#i’d let him fuck me while wearing HIS own uniform… head gear and all

[blitheringmcgonagall]

Congrats!! Prompt: Lily + green + bittersweet

@elizabeth-dicewielder i hope you like this!!

“Congrats, Potter!”

“Well done, Captain!”

“Excellent match, James, you deserved the win!”

“Gryffindor for the win! Prongs, you wonderful, fucking talented bastard!”

Lily snorted to herself as she watched Sirius Black shove aside the groupie that had been hounding his friend since he had entered the Gryffindor Common Room. He smacked James Potter on the back and the two boys embrace enthusiastically.

“You were on the team too, you idiot!” James laughed.

“You won the game for us!” Sirius Beamed back. “Here, have some firewhisky, you deserve it.”

He shoved a bottle of the amber liquid at Potter, who grinned and raised it, clinking Sirius’s glass.

“Cheers! Here’s to beating those Ravenclaws!”

Lily let her eyes linger on the Captain’s muscular forearms, on his athletic shoulders, which looked ready to burst through his skin-tight quidditch uniform, the way it hugged the outline of his pecs and abdominal muscles, his muscular calves, his-

“Lily, you’re staring.”

Mary MacDonald’s voice sounded amused. Even now Lily was reluctant to tear her eyes away.

“Very obviously staring. You seem very, er, thirsty. Shall we get you a drink?”

Mary was outright laughing at her. Lily’s sharp elbow dug into her annoying friend’s side and Mary yelped in surprise.

“I’ll get it myself, you muppet!” Lily said, trying to keep her expression neutral even as she felt herself turning red.

“You’re very pretty when you blush, Evans.”

She turned around, heat rising, and gave Sirius Black a condescending glance, before downing an entire glass of firewhisky in one go. The golden liquid made her throat burn, her eyes sting. She didn’t splutter or cough once. She watched Sirius’ gaze, impressed, his expression softening a bit.

“Fuck off,” she said, when she could speak.

“Don’t you like being complimented?” he said with a smirk.

“Not particularly,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes good naturedly. “Would you like it if I said you were looking pretty?”

He made a face.

“Not particularly,” he said, laughing.

She laughed too, twisting the glass in her hand.

“You do look well, Evans,” the dark haired boy said. “Trying to impress anyone?”

She had worn a muggle outfit, a long, boho dress in very fine crepe de chine polyester fabric with swirls of sea green, bright pink, cornflower blue. Her hair was long and wavy, the dark auburn colour highlighting her emerald eyes. She had worn it become she looked almost ethereal in it, stunning, and because...

Her eyes fell on the Gryffindor captain again, who was linking arms with a tall, dark-haired witch, a Seventh Year girl, who was also on the Quidditch team. She looked wonderful and they looked well together, happy, laughing, contented.

She had only found out they were dating when she had seen Potter pull her in for a quick kiss. Dorcas had confirmed it, sensitively. She had dropped her glass of butterbeer, smashing it on the floor. And replaced it with something stronger.

“They look well together,” she said.

She was still twisting the glass in her hand.

Sirius looked over at his friend. He shrugged his shoulders.

“She’s great,” he said. Noncommittal.

“I’m glad he’s happy.”

If Fifth Year Lily could have seen herself now at the start of Seventh Year, the bittersweet tone of her voice, longing in her eyes, brooding facial expression... she’s have been stunned.

“You are in your arse,” said Sirius.

She stared back at him, preparing herself to look highly offended. But...

“Come on, Evans, don’t be a coward,” Sirius Black’s grey eyes flashing, full of challenge.

“Look. I’m glad he’s happy, I’m not lying, alright? I just... I just wish I was the one making him happy. Satisfied?”

She sighed and poured herself another drink. She couldn’t believe she had just said it. Must be the alcohol.

“That’s my girl, a true Gryffindor,” Sirius said, his grey eyes alight now, twinkling dangerously.

“If you fucking say a word to him, I swear to you-“

“My lips are sealed, Evans,” he said, putting his arm around her and squeezing her shoulder tightly. “He’s my best friend, but that doesn’t mean he’s not an idiot. And anyway, we’re friends too now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, I think we are, Padfoot,” she said, using the nickname she had heard for the past two years.

“One of these days I’ll explain where that comes from,” Sirius said, barking a laugh as he took her hand and led her to the centre of the Common Room, where numerous couples had started to slow dance. “Sometimes When We Touch” came on the magical record player.

“Come on then, Evans, a dance for old time’s sake, seeing as we’re mates. It’ll cheer you up. Do it for me. I’m thwarted in love and drowning my own sorrows. Help a chap, would you?”

“Oh?” she was surprised that the suave, charming but aloof boy was opening up to her of all people. He hadn’t liked her last year, but they had grown closer since then, realising they had much in common.

“Oh fine, Sirius, just because you asked nicely,” she said, pushing his arm playfully, slightly less morose than before.

“Excellent,” he said, putting his arms around her waist.

She didn’t see the flash of mischief in his eyes.

The lyrics played...

At times I'd like to break you

And drive you to your knees

At times I'd like to break through

And hold you endlessly

At times I understand you

And I know how hard you've tried

I've watched while love commands you

And I've watched love pass you by

At times I think we're drifters

Still searching for a friend

A brother or a sister

But then the passion flares again

James Potter was now staring at his attractive friend, holding onto Evans’ waist, Evans who looked bloody gorgeous in her beautiful muggle dress, like a vision... wait, what? And Sirius still wearing his tight Quidditch gear, which for some bloody stupid godforsaken reason he seemed to have charmed to fit him too tightly, look at his bloody arse that was fucking ridiculous, and WHAT DO YOU MEAN “THEN THE PASSION FLARES”!?!?!

Lily Evans had her head on Sirius’ chest, a glass of firewhisky still in her hand, the other one looping casually around his friend’s neck. Occasionally they murmured something between them, both of them giggling aloud, intimate, serene. Playfully swatting each other, Sirius whispering in her ear, Lily’s neck arching backwards, her eyes closed blissfully...

And sometimes when we touch

The honesty's too much

And I have to close my eyes and hide

I wanna hold you 'til I die

'Til we both break down and cry

I wanna hold you 'til the fear in me subsides

Sirius caught him staring and smiled back, smug, with a barely raised eyebrow.

James stared back, raising both brows, surprise, trying a feigned indifference. Trying, and failing.

What the fuck, his look said, I didn’t know you fancied Lily?

Maybe I do, Sirius Black’s eyes challenged. You’re over her anyway.

Potter sweeps a hand over his face in desperation.

[unbridgeabledistances]

so ik we aren’t sure if the camo kiss was cut or not, but i wrote it just in case:) this takes place directly after 11x04!

(also i am still working on prompts after a little break, those will b up soon!<3)

--

Ian stumbled up the front steps of the Gallagher house, trying not to pay too much attention to the heavy metal music and the roar of the bonfire coming from the lot beside the house. He fumbled in the cheap fabric pockets of his military outfit to try and find his housekeys (Frank had started being vigilant about locking the front door since what he was calling the “Great Milkovich Invasion”). Mickey was a couple of steps behind him, stopping to lean over the chain link fence and flipping off one of his more scraggly-looking cousins who had just taken it upon himself to yell “military pussies” as Ian and Mickey walked by- honestly, not the worst insult they could have shouted, considering they’d had all day to brew up new combinations of slurs after seeing Mickey and Ian walk by in their uniforms on their way to Kev and V’s that morning.

Ian slid the key in the lock, and turned around to call to Mickey, who was still hurling insults at his bearded cousin as the moonlight bounced off his face.

“Better watch your fucking back, Gary, ‘cause my window’s right up there above you, and I’d hate to accidentally do some target practice during your little sleepover under the stars out here.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Hey, sharpshooter, you wanna come inside?”

Mickey cast one more glare at the tattered group of Milkoviches, then reached over the fence to take the can of beer one of them was holding.

“Better sleep with one eye open, assholes.”

Mickey turned and finally ambled up the creaking front steps, ducking under Ian’s arm that was holding the door open into the warm glow of the living room. Mickey kicked off his boots and threw them onto the living room floor, then took a sip of his stolen lukewarm beer and grinned, his defensive facade completely melting away now that they were safely indoors.

“Nice first day, Gallagher. Might have to give you a promotion soon.”

Ian rolled his eyes even more aggressively as he crouched down and untied the shoelaces of his bulky pleather military boots.

“Oh yeah? I don’t remember saying I was interested in being employed on a regular basis.”

Mickey took a final sip of the stolen beer and winced, then crushed the can on the back of the couch. “Well I guess today’s your lucky day then, lover. I ended your job hunt right before it even started.”

Mickey took off the flimsy camo pageboy hat and tossed it on the ground next to his shoes. “You want a beer? That shit was disgusting.”

Ian smirked, pulling off his boots and putting them by the door. “Yeah, sure.”

Mickey strode into the kitchen, while Ian scooped up Mickey’s discarded boots and hung up his hat by the door.

“I still can’t believe they had all that fucking weed just lying around, man!” Mickey called from the kitchen, opening the fridge and making the bottles clang as he fumbled for two beers.

Ian smirked and ambled into the kitchen, settling against the edge of the countertop. Mickey handed him a beer, which Ian opened on the side of the counter and slowly took a sip.

“Yeah. It’s fuckin’ crazy.”

Mickey was standing inches in front of him, twisting off the cap of his own beer and smiling with bright eyes, like he was glowing from this absurdly weird day going exactly as he had planned. Ian had the sudden thought that maybe it had- while Mickey seemed to act like he didn’t want to wear the camo gear that Ian discovered in the back corner of the dingy army supply store, Ian was starting to realize that Mickey getting him to play dress-up all day while they did the security job might have been exactly what Mickey had in mind when he was giving Ian shit at the store. As if confirming Ian’s thoughts, Mickey smiled a half-smile and poked him in the chest, giddy.

“Gallavich security, bitch. No more faking pay stubs for my P.O., the two of us are gonna make a killing just fucking hauling weed around all day.”

Ian barked out a laugh as he set his bottle down on the counter and pulled himself up to sit on the edge. “Gallavich security?”

“Fuck yeah, bitch. We’re going official. The name sounds totally badass anyways, gotta let everyone know what we mean business.”

Ian smirked. “Hm, okay. And since both of our names are in the business title, does that mean I still work for you? Or does it mean that we’re partners now?”

Mickey stepped closer, eyebrows raised and his tone playful. “Well, I don’t know. That depends on how hard you work, how you do in your employee review. You’re the one always talking about work ethic and all that shit.”

Ian rolled his eyes, but reached his arms up to comfortably rest over Mickey’s shoulders. “Oh yeah, boss? And how’d I do today?”

Mickey took a second to respond, leaning in closer now that he was ensnared in Ian’s grasp. His eyes flickered to Ian’s lips, then back up to meet Ian’s eyes with that intoxicated, heavy-lidded look he always had when Ian’s face was inches from his.

“Not sure yet. You gonna work with me again tomorrow?” Mickey retorted, a little more softly.

Ian sighed. “If I say yes, will you get off my fucking back about the fact that you have a job and I don’t?”

Mickey leaned his face in closer, then reached up and pulled Ian’s cheap camo hat off of his head.

“Deal.”

And then they were kissing, and Ian’s arms were pulling Mickey closer and cradling the back of his head in his hands—they were kissing, and for the first time in weeks they weren’t kissing because they had been fighting, or because they wanted a quick fuck and needed to blow off some steam, but because they wanted to be closer to each other, kissing because they were finally on the same team. He and Mickey were wearing matching fucking costumes, and they probably looked fucking ridiculous—but they were actually working together for once, were actually standing hand in hand in front of whoever crossed their path. While the day had begun with Ian reeling in panic that Mickey would do something illegal or stupid or both and end up in prison and away from him again, now Ian couldn’t shake the warmth that overtook him, sitting on the kitchen counter with his legs wrapped around a warm and thrumming Mickey, who had softened the second that Ian decided to get off the couch and be with him all day.

Perching on the kitchen counter, feeling his husband’s hungry lips press against his again and again, Ian couldn’t help but think that this wasn’t the way he’d envisioned wearing camo someday back when he was 16 and in ROTC; hell, he never would have imagined that he would have gone to jail someday when he was 16, or that he would preach in a church to crowds of hundreds of people, or that he would be bipolar— but the most surprising thing of all in his life was the fact that he would actually get to love Mickey Milkovich, that he was married to the dirt-smudged shit-talking teenage boy he’d spent his whole life wanting to be close to. The Gallagher kitchen had undoubtedly seen its fair share of make-out sessions, between him and Trevor or Caleb or whoever—but Ian couldn’t help but think that this moment with Mickey felt like the only kiss that mattered, the only time that Ian wasn’t putting on an act. Mickey was the only person that Ian didn’t have to pretend for, the only one who was his exact brand of crazy— Mickey was the only one Ian could think of who wouldn’t scoff at Ian’s idea of wearing matching outfits to do a security job, and instead got dressed and walked down the street beside him, got giddy at the fact they could spend the day together. Ian had never known where his life would take him, but building a business with the love of his life seemed like a pretty good start.

Ian’s hand slid from the back of Mickey’s head and down his neck, and he let his fingers rest over the camo-printed lapels of Mickey’s shirt, right in the spot he knew Mickey’s tattoo was. Mickey trailed kisses down the side of Ian’s neck, pulling him in closer.

“Love you, love you so fucking much,” Mickey mumbled as he crashed their lips together again.

And as Ian grasped the back of Mickey’s hair once more, breathing him in, he knew that this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

[sunnypogue]

jj visits you at school (headcanon)

ok so i took a very innocent prompt and turned it into my old ass reliving my college days (this is an ode to college football + texas food)

(warnings: nsfw-ish, drinking, cursing)

after high school, you decided you needed to get the hell out of north carolina

didn’t even consider duke/chapel hill/state

applied to schools all over the country before deciding on university of texas

(jj was sad because you were leaving - and he wasn’t - but it was closer than cal, which was your next choice)

as soon as you settled in, you bought him a flight out for a home football game

basically a religious experience in texas

you swooped him late thursday night from austin-bergstrom, borrowing your big’s boyfriend’s chevy silverado

yes you had joined a sorority. yes you lowkey loved it.

you could barely see over the wheel, and were basically falling asleep because you had to book it to the airport right after your 2 hour bio lab

but you got so excited when you saw jj - he was all amped up from flying for the first time

he waved you down, holding his beat up duffle bag on the sidewalk outside of arrivals

laughed at you as you tried navigating the truck (it was HARD okay, your big’s boyfriend owned a ranch - it wasn’t meant for the streets of austin), swung open the door as you rolled to a stop, slid into the passenger seat, gave you a “howdy, ma’am” before leaning over the gear shift & tongue fucking you.

woke ya right up!

you welcomed him to texas the traditional way - honey butter chicken biscuit from whataburger

he inhaled it - “god, what the FUCK is this?”

y’all spooned in your twin xl bed - you elbowed him in the chest, twice.

took him to your gen ed history class the next morning - y’all hid in the back and sent each other dirty texts the whole time (nothing new there)

gave him the full tour of campus after & rewarded him with torchy’s after - peg leg margarita + trailer trash tacos.

he had never had queso before - blew his fuckin’ mind

“why is the food here so GOOD?”

took him to your sorority mixer that night - 70’s themed, so y’all blew it out of the water with some very authentic ABBA costumes that you coordinated with your best friend + her boyfriend

jj let you round brush dry his hair & wore the classic all white outfit to match yours

y’all fucked in the costumes later that night - you couldn’t stop laughing, and he wouldn’t stop humming “super trouper”

woke up at the ass crack of day for game day - 2pm kick off meant 10 am tailgate

jj let you dress him (you were worried about getting him into the tailgate - you weren’t really in the mood for him to have to answer the “who do you know here?” question a thousand times)

of course, you had the frat boy game day uniform all ready for him - black ut polo, wranglers & cowboy boots.

he drew the line at the cowboy hat, opting for a backwards baseball cap

he wasn’t excited about the boots, until you handed him a flask & told him that was the only way he was sneaking alc into the game

jj immediately filled it with jack, before slipping into the side of his boot - “alright alright alright”

shockingly, getting him into the frat tailgate was no problem (you wisely chose to bring him to your big’s boyfriend’s frat - while he wasn’t pledge master, he had a lot of pull, and didn’t bat an eye as you brought your semi-incognito boyfriend into the house)

and of course, he made friends with literally EVERYONE he met

shotgunning beers with your best friends and their boyfriends

betting people to ride the mechanical bull in the middle of the backyard (because what the fuck)

sharing his boot flask (“yeah, my girlfriend got it for me - yeah, she’s pretty great.”)

of course, you taught him how to “hook ‘em”

and suckered him into a picture 

literally y’all only got one good one, you on his back, throwing the horns, him grinning at you as he half-assed the horns

he was flipping off the camera in every other photo

when y’all got to the stadium, he lost his shit

easily the biggest place (with the most people) he had EVER been in

completely took it in stride - learning all the chants, (“we’re gonna beat the hell outta you!” was his favorite) cheering as pledges were forced to chug whatever crazy shit the older frat members smuggled into the stadium between the student section bleachers, going absolutely apeshit when texas would score

jj didn’t know football could be fun - football was synonymous with his dad betting big and losing hard, which meant he got the brunt of...that

after the game (horns win!), y’all headed back to your dorm for a shower & power nap before hitting sixth street later that night

you changed your outfit three times and your panties once, because SOMEONE thought it would be funny to finger you while you tried to do your hair 

you weren’t really complaining, tbh

y’all walked to a pregame, jj wearing his boots & sipping from his flask, arm slung around you

same group y’all tailgated with earlier, so jj was like an old friend at this point 

(he even got the invite to the fraternity mardi gras trip in the spring - he asked if you were going to be flashing for beads - you smacked him on the arm)

wrangled him into an intense game of rage cage (you won - he bragged about you for the rest of the night)

laughed as you and your friends sat in the uber to the bars, memorizing your fake id’s 

jj had the same one from high school - he had a whole life story for his id at this point

let you drag him to a country bar - he kept your drink full as you & your sorority sisters drunkenly line danced to “any man of mine” and “cottonhead road”

you even got him to two step 

he ended up half-carrying your wasted ass home - you passed the fuck out the second you were back in your dorm

being the good boyfriend he is, he helped you take your makeup off and change into your pj’s

you woke up in his cutoff coors shirt, and nothing else - for revenge, you woke him up with a blow job - obviously.

you both had mind numbing hangovers (he refused to admit it, but he was feelin’ a lil rough after a game day + night out on sixth), so you dragged him to brunch - hair of the dog, baby.

knocked a couple mimosas back & made plans to lay out by the pool - nothing like getting absolutely fried by the sun to revive your hungover ass

as you were falling asleep on the lounger by the school’s outdoor pool, you heard him mumble something 

“you know where austin community college is, baby?”

you nodded, not following the conversation whatsoever, playing around with his baseball cap (you forgot your sunglasses, he offered it up to protect your eyes from the sun)

“lookin’ at it” he shrugged, holding his phone up, home page for ACC on his browser

you sat up a lil bit. “you’d consider leaving the outer banks?” 

he didn’t respond right away - you poked him with your foot a couple times

“I don’t think I’d ever leave the outer banks for good - but for a few years? maybe.” “for me?” 

he poked you back “nah, i’m coming for torchy’s + whataburger. you’re just an added bonus”

you nailed him with the hat, square in the face. “shut up.”

he laughed - sat up, swung your legs onto his lap, “i’m coming for you. you shut up.”

[seijohsfairy]

𝙿𝙴𝚃𝚄𝙻𝙰𝙽𝚃

he does his very best to give you everything, you know this better than most. so the least you can do is not get jealous. you don’t get jealous… just maybe get a little fussy instead.

.wordc. 4k+ tw (step)daddy, size kink, belly bulge, degradation, hairpulling, spit, jealousy

+

With his teeth in the crook of your neck with his strong arms looped around your -in comparison- tiny body, he pounds his hips up into you until your eyes roll back in your skull. “Needy- fucking- bitch,” the muffled grunts come with each thrust, and all you can do is keep your fingers stuffed into your mouth and holding onto the short hairs at the base of his skull. “Like having a cock too big to stuff your dirty, cockhungry cunt?”

“Yeah, love your— fat cock.” Each wet slap of your pussy being battered by a dick too big for you rings way too loud in the quiet of the otherwise abandoned room, his huge cock going so deep it pushes up against the edge of your poor walls. Your fingers and chin are covered in spit, eyes closed tight and tits bouncing with the motions, unable to even close your legs for a little reprieve. “So deep.”

The bench creaks against the motions. And he rests his forehead onto your shoulder for a moment to hold you down, breathing deeply. “Gonna cum?” His voice so low and gravelly, body radiating heat that leaves you both with sweat rolling down exposed skin. You think you nod in response, but it’s hard to tell when your head’s so cloudy you can’t tell left from right, trying to keep from crying out. “Wanted daddy’s cock so bad you had to beg for it like a whore, so you better.” Then he’s moving again, one hand dropping to your ass to help you along with the ruthless pace he sets in your wet slit.

“C-can’t,” you cry around your fingers when his chest brushes up against your overstimulated nipples, clenching around the heat and dripping all over him. “Wanna -quit, mhm-wan’cum. ‘S too big.” Your thighs strain with the effort to drop yourself at his rhythm, your muscles clenching more each time your clit rubs against the coarse hair around his cock. “So close, daddy!” Your voice, muffled and high pitched, is still no match for the lewd sounds that fill the room and his heavy grunts. You moan at the way his frown digs a little deeper, biting his lip in focus. “Yes, yes, ah-please!” With a few more thrusts, you drop down onto his cock all the way until it pushes against your cervix, and the tight coil in your belly snaps. “Sh- mhm— thankyouthankyou daddy!”

“Fuck,” he hisses, “milk my cock, slut.” Your walls clench around him so hard you see double, pulling your wet fingers out of your mouth to dig them into the hard muscles of his shoulders with a loud string of incoherent begs. And he follows close after, filling your belly with warmth until his thick cum spills out and makes even more of a mess. But he only stops until your body slumps entirely against his chest, so fucked out your toes tingle, and the blood rushing in your head is so loud you can’t hear anything else. He keeps you tight to his hot body, breathing deeply against your sticky skin.

Everything after that moves quicker, sadly. Your head is still pounding a little as he helps you off his lap and onto your feet, wiping your drool off your face and kissing your lips until you manage to lift your arms enough to get your shirt back on. You don’t even know how many minutes pass in silence as he helps you clean up, allowing you the time to come back to earth. “Tired?” he asks, and you nod along, collapsing against his chest with a deep whine.

“I don’t think I want to try walking for at least half an hour.” You stand and watch as he drops his boxers and digs through his bag for his gear, quick to put it all on. Though his grin grows wider the longer you stare at him, you’re not even trying to hide it. Jersey stretching over his wide chest and shoulders, before he tucks himself into fresh boxers and shorts.

“Enjoying yourself?” he chuckles when you bite your lip, nodding cutely. You go to stand onto the bench with a little sigh to motion him over, taking a brief moment to fix his hair as his large hand rests at the small of your back. Pretty hazel eyes watching you with a revering gaze. When you’re done, he clicks his tongue. “Gotta rush out there, pretty thing, I gotta go to warm-ups.” He presses a quick kiss to your pouty lips as he helps your underwear back up your body, but his gaze lingers for a moment too long for you to believe the responsible front he’s putting on. Even if he doesn’t admit it, the way his hands come to paw at your tummy says enough, pushing on it a little until you grab his wrist and squeak.

“Daddy!”

The wet squelch of his cum gushing out of you into the drenched fabric is enough to have heat rising to your face again. “Leaking my cum into those pretty panties?” You fake a frown, but enjoy the way his fingers trail up your body under his shirt. “Hm, that’s too bad.” The little purse of his lips quickly morphs back into a smile when you push his arms away from your body. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” he promises, stuffing his bag into the locker. Everyone’s definitely already warming up in the other gym. If anything you’re lucky that they haven’t come around to find their captain yet. “Cheer for me?”

“Of course, daddy,” you say back, eyeing him down a little longer. He really does look too damn unholy in the tight uniform, sending you a last little look that already has your insides warming again.

+

There’s very little that can make you jealous. You’ve won over a lot of obstacles to be with Meian the way you are, and though it’s technically a secret, the gazes his teammates send you when you cheer for your daddy or come around training a bit earlier than you should to watch him are far from unknowing. Of course the large majority of the crowd doesn’t know though, so it’s easy to blend into the cheers of the supporters. In all black and gold, there’s few things you enjoy more than showing off to everyone what you mean to him, jumping and cheering from the stands. You don’t care that they don’t know who you are, or that some of his fans send daggers into your back with their glares.

After all, it’s not for nothing that your skirt shows off the bruises and hickeys on your thighs, his jacket falling way down your body like it could be a dress. The number four on the back also painted on your face as you wave your banner excitedly back and forth. He sends a quick glance back, eyebrows furrowed to look for your face in the mess of people, and grins when he spots you. You wave and smile, letting your heart make a jump when he winks at you, then turning back to the team. This little game between you two is nothing new— hell, most of the players have their own little routines. The first set went by so quickly, and your side of the area is ecstatic, buzzing with excitement.

But as the whistle rings, there’s a distinct murmur right behind you that is harder to ignore by the second. “He winked this way, did you see?” “Who did? Him?” “The Captain, number 4. Meian Shugo.” You really try your best to ignore them, try to watch the game progress below you, but it’s so hard when they seem to be only one of two rows behind you. And loud at that. “At— that girl over there that’s wearing his number, you think? She looks way young.” “I know he got divorced not too long ago, you think that’s his new girl? What a shame.” The longer the conversation continues, the more you have to fight the urge to turn around, tapping your foot on the floor to quell your nerves.

“Ugh, just imagine what a man like that can do,” one of the girls sighs after a while, and even the man to your side turns around to give them a little glare. “What? Are we not allowed to talk?” she hisses, cutting her argument short when the man turns back at the sound of another whistle, the opposing team coming up to serve. They are clearly not here for the enjoyment of the sport, and though you can understand it to a degree, there’s a certain self consciousness that creeps up your spine when they continue, under their breath. “Whatever, even if he has a girlfriend, that doesn’t mean we can’t go say hi after the match. I wanna know what he’s like with a body like that.” “Yeah, same. I’d love to see what’s underneath those shorts. Ride him until he’s out of breath.”

The shrill laugh of the girls is all you can hear through the cheers, clinging a bit harder to the banner in your hands. And it’s so stupid to get jealous, but the way they talk about him hits a part of you that you don’t like giving into. After all, you’re living in the same house as him and currently have his cum soaking into your panties, but no one is allowed to know. And you’re not so sure if that’ll ever change. “If that’s really his girlfriend, I feel bad for him. She looks like she never takes charge in anything, let alone the bedroom.” Her friend snickers. “You’re so right, poor guy.” MSBY suddenly scores a point, knocking you out of your daze when the entire crowd jumps forward in cheers, squishing you to the bannister a little more. And Meian smacks the grey-haired spiker on the back with a smile, before turning back towards the stands to send you another glance.

But the smile you manage to send him is only superficial, fisting your hands into his jersey a bit tighter. The rest of the match continues mostly as normal after, with you ending up waiting patiently outside the changing rooms. And though you know you shouldn’t let it unnerve you, though you know it’s just simple gossip among friends, their words stick to the forefront of your thoughts while he keeps his distance as long as he’s with the team and through the crowd of interviewers until you both get into the car.

You get into the driver as he slumps into the passenger seat, exhausted and ready to get out of the mess of loud people to go home and sleep it off as soon as possible. “Don’t fall asleep yet, daddy, I won’t be able to get you out of the car.” You start the car with a few glances to the side of his face, a tired but contented smile on his lips when you back out of the parking lot and away from the mass of people, an agreeing hum low and calm in between you two for the first time in a few hours. Only then does his large hand find it’s way to your skin again, dropping into your lap to draw soft circles onto the inside of your thigh.

“I missed you, baby.”

“Yeah,” you drop your bottom lip from between your teeth, “missed you too.”

+

When you wake up with a jolt, the first thing you notice is how tight your chest feels. You’re hot all over, slotted against his chest on your side, and judging by how wet you are you’ve been this way for a while. Flushed, and your belly awfully empty. And you’ve learned what happens if you take care of yourself, definitely not in the mood to risk it. So you do the only thing you can do and shift your hips back more, pressing your ass against the bugle in his boxers. No wonder you woke up hot and bothered. “Hmm,” you whine a little when you push back more and rub your covered pussy up and down his center. You can’t help it, you want daddy’s cock more than anything right now.

It doesn’t take long for your motions to shake him awake, definitely when you bring your hand down between your legs to rub up against his half hard cock, grabbing him through the fabric. A deep rumble falls from his chest when you pull the boxers down enough to let his dick out, spitting onto your hand to grab for him. You rub your wet palm over the head of his cock a few times before wrapping your fingers around him— as much as you can at least with the size of it, still rocking your hips back against him and getting more wet by the second. “What d’ya think you’re doin,” he sighs under his breath as he cracks one eye open, grunting at the way you’re rubbing your desperate cunny along the length of him over and over.

“Woke up needing you so bad,” you bring out, just letting your panties get more and more wet the longer you continue. And his cock twitches in between your legs as you work your fingers around, rubbing the precum around all over the pretty head of his cock until he bucks his hips back against you. It presses up against you more the harder you try, tilting your hips to allow him to touch your clit over and over. “Need daddy’s cock inside,” you admit under your breath, shifting away for just a second to rid yourself of the fabric sticking to your pussy. When you’re barely done with that he’s already pulling you back to his body to push his cock between your folds a few times without actually going in. It makes your entire body heated, hairs standing on end and getting more slick by the second. You grab onto his wrist for support in pushing back against him. “Ha-nhg, please-daddy feels so good, so warm.”

You even shift your legs apart best you can to get more friction and access, something that makes him hum. His chest pressed up against your back makes you feel even smaller, packed muscles and strong arms caging you in against him. “You want it so bad, baby?” He shifts onto one elbow behind you to look at your face, how you’re tearing up with the overwhelming heat and need setting your body alight. The hot, leaking head pushes against your hole and pushes in a tiny bit, only to pull back and slap his fat cock against your pussy with a wet ‘pap’ each time. “Wanna have it in here, fill you up, filthy girl?”

“Yes!” you instantly reply, shivering when he uses his free hand to shove your shirt up your body to reveal your tits, rising and falling desperately against the heat. He rubs his thumb over each a few times, then grabbing your tits into his giant hand and squeezing softly. Still teasing the heavy head of his giant cock between your legs while you’re leaving your shiny wetness all over him. Your hips instinctively push back against him when he brings the head back to your hole, trying to lower onto it, only to be stopped by his hand on your hip. You can’t help the whine that comes out at that, still pushing back as much as you can.

“Pleasepleaseplease, daddy!! Ah-ple-hng.” You push his hand back away from your hip and reach between your legs again to push him back up to your dripping pussy again, slowly starting to sink yourself onto him. It never goes easy because he’s just that big, but the stretch of just pushing back on him is enough to have you moaning out, dropping your face into the plush. “Please, want your big -hm- cock. Wanna have daddy ruin me.” He keeps you in place again though, slowly rocking his hips around in circles to stretch you out more, popping back out again and you have to hold the overwhelming urge to kick your feet, instead arching your back and leaning into his hand when he pinches your nipples hard. “J-Fu— Wan’it, wan’it!”

“Oh, the fucking brat knows what she wants?” he mumbles back as he guides himself back between your legs, not holding you down this time. Instead he just grabs onto your thigh as he rolls his hips, your eyes stinging with wetness. “Go ahead then. Got my cocksleeve all needy and worked up and I haven’t even done anything yet.” It’d be easier to ignore his taunting tone if it wasn’t paired with a thrust, shoving another two thick inches into your gushing cunny until you’re crying and shaking on his cock, not sure if you want to get back off or not. The stretch is so painfully good, walls fluttering around the wide intrusion desperately. You roll your hips though, whimpering at the feeling of him spearing you open so wide. It’s not fair. You had him earlier today, but it feels like you’re being stretched for the first time all over again.

“Daddy, please, wanna cream around it, have it break me open please,” you reach back to cling to his forearm, taking a few deep breaths and crying out when it causes his cock to slide even further in. But for as much as you’re struggling, you know that there’s nothing more you want than all of him filling you out. “Need it, ack, d-deep. More, daddy, quickly!” you beg, forcing yourself back and onto him more again, your eyes rolling back in your skull when you arch your back and his cock presses up so good against your gummy, drooling walls. “Please use my holes as you need, ‘s all for you, daddy.” At this point you’re so fed up not being able to take more at once that you pound your little fist onto his thigh a few times and shake your head through your tears, pulling his hand in between your legs. “Put it— mhm-ahh, deeper, please!”

The little request along with the way you roll your hips back on half of his cock like a bitch in heat leaves him stunned, gripping you close by your belly as the hand between your legs rubs messy circles over your clit. “Fuck— What’s got you so fucking desperate?” he hisses when you clench on his cock again, pushing in more at your whimpers. “That feel good?” The way he’s filling you up alone is enough to have your belly tightening like crazy, going crazy at the touches to your puffy nub.

“Yes-hng, yeah, more, moremoremore. Want it all,” you nod, squeezing your own tits and breathing, feeling how he slides in further and further and the messy, quick motions of his two fingers to your clit go even faster. “All of you, ple-ah!” Same time as you try to catch your breath a little, going lightheaded, he bottoms out inside you with a hard thrust, and the coil in your belly pulls so tight you can feel it all the way to your feet. He keeps rubbing, rutting his cock almost in place to stretch you out a little more, but you don’t even get to warn him as your eyes pull closed and your pussy clenches around him like a vice. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck— daddy!” You squirm as your orgasm travels through you, vision spotting black and white and that enormous heat filling your belly.

But you barely take a break to breathe before you’re turning over your shoulder to lean into his collarbones, grabbing onto his shoulder and breathing heavily against his skin. “Daddy’s cock is mine, all mine. Only for me,” you bring out, lifting your leg over his thigh for better access, tears being smushed around your cheeks. He obliges though, pulling out and pushing back inside faster, inside your sensitive cunny with the flushed head of his cock kissing your cervix each time he fills you out.

Your brabbling is barely coherent anymore, sticking so close and rolling your hips as best as you can. “Only belongs inside me. Your pretty cock’s hmh-all mine.” Though you can’t see it though your tears, his lip is pulled between his teeth, pretty eyes focussed on the way your face changes with each thrust, in awe of your words. You’re not normally this mouthy, but the words just keep coming.“‘M gonna take all of your cum like a g-good- girl,” you moan and whine, and he pulls you even closer by your waist to thrust up into you a bit faster. “No one else.”

“Yeah,” he hums, now using his thighs to fuck up into you and to make your tits bounce, the bed banging against the wall with each thrust. He grabs onto your hair to keep your back arched for him and presses a kiss to your wet cheek, moaning. “S’all yours, pretty baby.”

“No one else -ah-can touch your cock or sit on it, okay?” you mumble, mindlessly nodding your head when he grunts your name under his breath, the pace now knocking the air out of your lungs. “Just— your good girl- ah, ah, ah, f-forever! Wanna feel your cock up here until you can’t give any more, daddy!” You manage to bring your hand to your belly to push a little against the bulge that shows each time he bottoms out, balls and hips slapping against you and the wetness of your creamed pussy around his cock filling the room.

“Shit- Look at you being all possessive,” Meian takes a deep breath and brings his hand back between your legs again, cock twitching inside you. Each thrust of his fat cock inside your ruined walls brings you back closer to your high, and the heavy, dirty words he growls when your walls flutter around him. “Little, slutty cunt drooling all over me— fuck, baby, taking me so well. You like feeling daddy’s huge cock filling you up to the brim?”

“Yes, feels so good! So big, hng-good- inside, ah— daddy, daddy!” The heat between your bodies building so hot you can’t think straight. All you know is that you’ve never felt so good, his length driving you open and bulging your belly so perfectly. Your heartbeat is so loud between your ears, neck and back held tight in place and your ass jiggling with his relentless fucking. “Ahng! Ah, ah, ah, always want to cream on your fat cock, no one else gets to. Only me- f-for daddy!” More, tighter, it builds to a peak again like the rhythmic pounding of the headboard into the wall, your cries choked and drool covering your lips, swollen from your consistent biting. “Ah- haaaa, please, wanna cum on your cock again. Gonna—”

“Already?” He brings out a surprised huff, but keeps going and even faster, close as well.

“Mhm! Ah- yes, love your big cock so much, feels -mhm- s’good!” you cry as you’re bounced on his cock all pathetically, squeezing your own tits and nipples for the most amount of stimulation. It’s inevitable when he notices how close you are and rubs your clit even faster again, making your legs shake. “S’g-good, please, wanna c-cum. Don’t stop, don’t stop, wan’ -hmng- d- ah, cumming! Cum—ming-hng -ah, ahng!”

You hit your high even harder than before, vision completely blacking for a few seconds as he helps you through it without hesitating, thrusting your spasming walls open again and again and again. Pushing up against your cervix a few more times with pleasurable pain that leaves your body shaking and pussy creaming around his cock all over again. “Daddy, daddy, daddy!” you mumble out, as he spurts his hot ropes of cum into your pussy, fucking it into you until you’re both twitching from overstimularion.

He lets go of your hair and slumps into you then, keeping you warm in his arms and pulling you close to his sweaty chest. Both of your hearts hammering in different patterns against your rib cages, his cock kept inside you. It’s Meian who catches his breath first, slowly untangling himself from your body to look down at you through narrowed eyes, ever so slowly pulling out of you after all. “Baby,” comes his chastising tone first, and you whine at it, but he’s quick to keep you just as close to press his lips to your jaw. “That was so stupidly hot,” he breathes, “locking around my cock like a fuckin’ vice.” You crack open one eye to watch him inspect you top to bottom, then playing with the edge of the shirt still shoved up above your tits. “What the fuck was that all about?”

But you just give him a lazy grin, and snuggle closer to his chest. “I’ll tell you later, daddy.”

[abarbaricyalp]

I looooved what you wrote for my first prompt!! I have another if you're down :D

How about Bucky starts talking about how hot/sweet/great he thinks Sam is in another language (not knowing Sam speaks it) but using an insulting tone so it wouldn't sound like he was complimenting him (possibly during an undercover mission, where Sam can't react to what he is saying) until Bucky goes on a "tirade" but really getting pretty graphic about what he wants to do to Sam or wants Sam to do to him, causing Sam to spit take or choke on his drink before Bucky catches on that he can understand and just dies on the inside until they finish the mission and Sam can respond <3 <3

Thanks again, Friend!

Always taking prompts <3

(never) Lost in Translation

Read on AO3

“Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно,” Bucky breathed into the cold air as he curled his fingers around the stock of his rifle and shifted his hips against the rooftop. “То робостью, то ревностью томим; Я вас любил так искренно, так нежно--” [I loved you hopelessly and mutely, Now with shyness, now with jealousy being vexed; I loved you so sincerely, so fondly--"I Loved You" by Alexander Pushkin]

“Huh?” Sam asked on the other end of the comm line.

“Just trying to stay awake, Wilson,” Bucky answered. “Maybe you can sit out here and give your mouth frostbite.”

“Give it another hour or so and I’ll warm you back up, Barnes,” Sam promised and Bucky could hear the smile in his voice, which was enough to stave off the chill for a while longer.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know who made a nest of jackets and my mom’s blanket next to my hospital bed?” Sam asked at two in the morning when Bucky slunk back into the hospital room and the mess he’d turned the two small chairs next to the bed into.

Bucky considered continuing to sulk in the shadows in silence. But it was the first time Sam was awake in nineteen hours and he was pretty fucking sick of the quiet at this point. “Sarah brought the blanket,” he said. He leaned forward to reach for Sam’s hand, curling his fingers around the bandages and splints gently.

“Yeah, but I know Sarah’s not sleeping in my room. It can’t have been so long that you felt the need to move in, man.”

“I’m not moved in ,” Bucky defended. “Just didn’t know how long it would be. And it’s fucking cold in this building.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Sam tried to shift in the bed and let out a gasp of pain.

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to move too much. Figured you could work that one out on your own, with that big ass cast around your ribs,” Bucky said. But his brow was drawn in in worry and he brought his other hand to Sam’s hip, arching it gently over the thin fabric of the gown.

Sam relaxed back into the bed as much as he could. “I hate sleeping on my back,” he said.

“Sorry, I’ll be sure they accommodate that next time your ribs are sticking out of your skin.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Maybe a little,” Bucky agreed. “You’re gonna have to get over it though. You need to rest.”

“I’ve been asleep for a day,” Sam said. “Come on, can’t you believe I miss you?”

Bucky barked out a laugh and shook his head. “No, I don’t believe that at all. And you can’t miss me anymore than I miss you. I’m the conscious one.”

Sam preened and then his eyes drifted shut. Bucky squeezed his hand gently and began to hum under his breath until the flickering of Sam’s eyes settled down. “Que ce soit dimanche ou lundi / Soir ou matin minuit midi /Dans l'enfer ou le paradis /Les amours aux amours ressemblent /C'était hier que je t'ai dit /Nous dormirons ensemble,” he sang softly. Sam let out a soft breath and finally fell asleep. [ Whether it be Sunday Monday/ Evening ,morning, midnight, midday / Whether it be in hell, in paradise, /Love-affairs look like each other. /I said to you just Yesterday: /We shall sleep together. "Nous Dormions Ensemble" "We'll Sleep Together" Louis Aragon]

“I told you to cover Torres on the left!” Sam shouted as he landed heavily on the rubble of the street.

                                                                                       “أنت تعني الكثير بالنسبة لي” Bucky bit back. “You were in more trouble than he was. I told you to get out of the air.” [You mean so much to me]

 “I’m sorry,” Sam snorted. “Are you leading this mission? Are you Captain America all of a sudden?”

                                                                           “أنت تجعلني أريد أن أكون رجلاً أفضل” Bucky muttered. “I’ve always been the one with the brain cells when Captain America’s around.” [ You make me want to be a better man.]

 “For what it’s worth, guys, I’m fine,” Torres said. “Caught the bad guys. Didn’t get eaten. Alls well that ends well. Unless this is, like, foreplay or something for you two. In which case, I want to get back to the jet before you keep going.”

“Shut up, Torres,” Bucky snapped. “There’s a---thing behind you,” he added, exhausted and confused about what it was exactly that they were fighting. Torres turned around, too slowly, to stare at the limping creature of some underwater origin and Sam ripped the shield from his back to fling at the monster. With a squelch and a groan, it toppled over and the shield bounced back to Sam’s arm.

                                                                                           “إنك في غاية الجمال” Bucky breathed and rubbed his human hand over his face, smearing ash and sweat until it stung his eyes. “Torres, do an aerial scan for stragglers. Wilson and I’ll survey damage down here.” [ You’re so beautiful]

 “Oh, no, Wilson . You’re in trouble,” Torres laughed. He clapped Sam’s shoulder as he walked past and then shot into the sky when the area was clear enough to.

“You’re too hard on him,” Sam said as he started to kick over blocks of asphalt. “He’s a trained soldier, y’know. He’s not some helpless kid.”

 Bucky snorted and kneeled down to run his metal hand through a puddle of water on the ground, watching silver ripple across the current.                                                                  “مائة قلب لن يكونوا كافيين لحمل كل حبي لك” he said, and then, “He was never trained for those wings.” [ A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you.]

 “He helped build those wings. He trained with Exo-Skeletons. The wings are in perfectly capable hands.”

“Make sure clean up takes samples of the water,” Bucky said. “I think there are organisms in there,” he said as he stood up and wiped his hand on his pants.

“How hard did you just have to work, after Torres put foreplay in your head, to not say orgasms?” Sam teased, shooting an easy, if slightly bloody grin, at Bucky.

                                                                                “أنت إشراقة شمسي يا حبي” Bucky sighed and shook his head. “Let’s get home. You obviously have a concussion.” [ You are my sunshine, my love.]

 “Hey, just ‘cause I’m funnier than you and know your depraved mind well enough to say something like that doesn’t make me damaged,” Sam said, jogging to catch up with Bucky.

“Does he talk?” villain-du-jour asked, appraising what was supposed to be the Winter Soldier but was really just Bucky bored out of his skull.

“If you want him to,” Torres said with a shrug. “Most people don’t.”

“See,” Sam said in Bucky’s earpiece. “I told you he’d kill this.”

And, unfortunately, Torres really was killing it. Torres seemed to be afflicted with the same dramatic streak that Steve had, in that Steve was everyone’s best-friend-ray-of-sunshine until shit got real. Or the mission required him to play some shady underworld super-assassin dealer, apparently.

“I heard he malfunctioned with Zemo,” unidentified baddie said cautiously. “I heard the programming had been washed out.”

Torres reached over to cuff Bucky against the back of the head. “Does he look deprogrammed? Do you think I’d be standing here if he was deprogrammed?”

Bucky had to fight not to let a glare slide over to Torres. He kept his eyes and his grimace set straight ahead. He’d feel better if there was a rifle in his hands.

“It’s not my fault Baron Zemo didn’t have the balls to control the Soldier. I assume that won’t be a problem for you. But, hey, I could be wrong. In which case, I’ll just take him back. Putting him on ice is easier the less time he’s out.”

“I’m glad he never decides to be such a shit with me,” Sam said. The bad guy said something else and Bucky fully tuned it out. “Hey, Barnes,” Sam said in his ear. “What’re you wearing?” he teased. Bucky’s jaw jumped. “One day, we’re gonna see how quickly I can get all that tac-gear off of you. Or maybe just the top half. The rest of you looks damn good in black.”

Bucky bit the side of his tongue, listened to the asshole across the room talk about not being able to communicate to lapsed partners since he only spoke English, about wanting to send a message, about how many languages the Soldier knew and if he talked while breaking bones.

“Do you think we do better undressing each other on the jet or off of it. Sure, there’s turbulence, but we also have all that adrenaline pushing us on. Besides, I know you like things hard. You wouldn’t like me so much if you didn’t.”

“Soldier?” Torres said at his side. “A sample of your voice.”

“ I’m gonna throw my partner across that table as soon as we kick all your asses ,” he said in Russian. “ He gets pretty fucking quiet when he’s getting dicked down well. It’s actually the only time he shuts up. ”

The hapless moron across the room looked delighted. “What about French?”

“ You’d think getting him down on his knees would work better but it never has for me. He’s always gotta have the last word in edgewise. Lengthwise, as it may be. No fuckin’ hair to grab onto either. You’ve just gotta listen to him .”

“Spanish?”

“ Probably won’t stop in here. I’ll drag him back to our jet and do it all over again. Or let him do it to me. I’m really not picky when it comes to him. Especially not when he’s wearing the uniform he is right now. I like getting it off of him as much as I like how it looks on him .”

“ Damn, dude, I speak Spanish ,” Torres hissed back in Spanish. “ Spare my ears, please .”

The arms-idiot grinned like a kid on Christmas. “Yeah, that’ll do. Your money’s in here,” he said, sliding a briefcase across the floor.

“Ready?” Sam asked in the ear piece.

“ We never speak of it again ,” Bucky said to Torres. “ If you tell him, I’ll drop your ass in Siberia. ”

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Torres said, gesturing over to the other man. Bucky went and got them, Sam coming down through a skylight and Torres taking care of the guards behind them.

“I was thinking about getting my own place down here,” Sam said. “Even if it’s just a one bedroom or something. You know, for when Buck’s here too.”

“Tu vas bouleverser les garçons,” Sarah answered. [You'll upset the boys]

“Huh?” Bucky asked, looking up from toying with a remote control airplane that had an unfortunate run-in with a tree.

“They’re still not in French classes?” Sam asked. “Isn’t AJ old enough?”

“He’s taking Spanish instead.”

“Traitor,” Sam said easily. “Cela n'a pas besoin d'être codé.” [This doesn't need to be encoded]

“Votre vie sexuelle fait.” [Your sex life does]

“Ha! Comme si.” [Ha! As if]

“Wait, you two know French?” Bucky asked. The airplane had been thoroughly forgotten.

“Sure, it’s one of two languages offered at our high school,” Sarah said. “Sam was obsessed with learning Creole so not only did he take French, he took AP French. And scored a five on the test. Hey, aren’t you a polyglot, technically?”

“What?” Bucky asked as dawning horror unleashed a flood of embarrassment through him. And, well, a bunch of other feelings too, which would require French to say aloud, apparently. He packed those away.

“I don’t know if there are qualifications, but I speak a few languages,” Sam agreed and he finally looked over at Bucky with a smirk. “English, French. A little Spanish. The Air Force gave us Russian lessons. I picked up Arabic overseas.”

Fuck, Bucky though. Merde. Maldita sea. Черт побери.

“He absorbs languages like a sponge,” Sarah said to Bucky. “AJ is pretty similar,” she added towards Sam. “His teacher says he’s the best in the class.”

“Of course he is,” Sam said. “He’s a Wilson.”

A timer went off and Sarah muttered lightly under her breath. “I’ve got to run and grab Cass from school. Can you stay here and get AJ off the bus?” she asked, already grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

“Bye, Sarah,” Bucky called after her before rounding on Sam as the door shut.

“Hey, you never asked,” Sam defended, leaning back against the counter. “And it never sounded like you wanted an answer when you were serenading me in French. Gotta wonder why you’ve got Russian poetry memorized though--Hey!” Sam yelped as Bucky crossed the living room to the kitchen and stood between his legs, hands on either side of his body on the counter.

“Ты должен был сказать мне раньше,” he breathed. Sam shivered against him. [You should have told me sooner]

“Pourquoi?” he asked, like he was in any way innocent. [Why?]

Bucky brushed his mouth along Sam’s neck, felt his pulse jump at the contact. “Tu sais ce que ça me fait,” he murmured. [You know what it does to me]

“Languages?” Sam asked as his hand found the small of Bucky’s back and then the rest of his spine, up to his shoulders, the seam of his metal arm, his ribs.

“You showin’ off,” Bucky corrected.

Sam hummed because he did know that. “It was more fun to watch you think you were getting away with something. You get real sweet when you think I can’t hear.”

Bucky nipped at his collarbone and Sam gasped out a breath, almost let it convince him to leave Bucky there, but eventually pushed him away. “I was serious about getting our own place. I will never emotionally recover if one of the kids walks in on me making out with you. I’m supposed to be typifying standards.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and pinched Sam’s side. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but a smart one,” Sam said with a grin. “Which is apparently your type.

And, dammit, it was.

“By the way,” he added, “Clint taught me ASL, so I know what you tell him about me too.”

Bucky groaned and threw himself back over the couch.

[shinylugers]

tw; n*zi mention and stuff. if you don’t like it, don’t read???

Let’s talk about Rockfort and Steve. Looking back on a few consistent files and timeline of the game, it could have been about a year’s worth of time which would have had Steve taken from his home by Umbrella when he was about sixteen. He would have served his days out in the detention center with other inmates as well. That’s a long fucking time for someone underage to be serving with a bunch of possibly dangerous male-only criminals. I use the term ‘criminals’ actually lightly, due to the nature of Steve’s imprisonment. He was simply in the wrong place, the wrong time, and was involved. He knew too much.

It’s any wonder why he was allowed to keep his hair while the other prisoners were shaved down. Maybe it’s because of his age they found some modicum of mercy.

More deliberation forces me to think that Alfred, in his SENSITIVE STATE of mind, might have had more torturous plans in store for someone with vigor and youth. Naturally, the anatomist could have some sphere of influence too - as a ‘man’ of science and distinguished taste (ie; torture). There could have been differentiated experiments forced on a person Steve’s age, or there could have been a form of conditioning involved that resulted in different turnabouts.

The actual implications that Steve got off easy compared to the rest of the prisoners sits with the proof that he retains his hair, while the other zombie inmates you see have their heads shaved. Most look malnourished. They all bear the same uniforms while Steve manages to cloth himself with mildly different materials. Vest, a nice cotton shirt, camo pants and combat boots. Its also possible he managed to snag these during his escape, but it seems highly unlikely.

Sidenote, he wears these... which are essentially bondage cuffs? These aren’t found on any other inmate in the game, zombie or not. Both versions (DSC and CV). It seems to be capable of binding one’s arms behind their back.

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

The little differences didn’t leave Steve without some wear and tear of his own. Burnside was still tagged with both a numerical collar and a ‘branding’ of a barcode by the facility’s militia -- (or in the worst case scenario, Alfred himself). Much like N*zi concentration camps, this is a form of perma identification. ( NOTE: DSC is the only version of Steve with a branding. But both have the same collar and issued vest with the tagged uniform. )

[ please defer to myrmecitis’ post found here for a better overview of rockfort and viral analysis ]

Moving along ... one of the interesting files that you find in the barracks is from a prisoner that mentions another cellmate called “Bob”. Suspicions point to it having belonged to Steve Burnside. Code Veronica doesn’t give a huge amount of insight on where he’s placed beforehand, alas, it seems DSC does a better job at this despite removing other key components of the lore.

You find out that room with the security computer and tables with a separate bunk-bed room is where Steve was kept and escaped essentially right after the explosion happened on the island.

However, in the original game there is no computer, and where it was in DSC, there is a second level where another set of tables magazines, an old tv, and some uneaten food sit. Interestingly enough, you also find a small kitchenette area where Claire states that the soup is still warm; indicative that the outbreak must have rapidly infected those still within the detention center.

The Prisoner's Diary is found in the prison building bedroom on the left-hand side bunk bed from the door.

May 13th This room stinks of death. Based upon the information I've found, I believe that I'm far south of the equator. Lucky for me that Bob in the bunk below me, is one of those interesting types of guys...

May 16th Today Bob told some crazy story of why he was put this place with me. Bob said that he used to be an attendant to the head of this place. This "boss" named Alfred supposedly placed him in here because of a tiny little mistake.

What does that mean? What's going to happen to me?

May 20th Without warning, a group of military men took Bob to the building behind the guillotine stand. At midnight, I'll sneak out of here to see him.

I've been hearing that anyone taken to that building never comes back. On top of that,there are these REALLY large plastic bags constantly being removed from that place. I'd better pray for Bob...

May 21st I was wrong. I shouldn't have gone there. What is going on in there?! All I could hear was some insanely creepy laughter and the sound of Bob screaming! I don't know what to do. I can't stop thinking about it...

Is that going to happen to me?! I can't let it... I just can't...

May 27th Since my last entry, all of my fellow inmates have been taken to that building! I know that I am next... It's obvious that we were all here to be used as Alfred's guinea pigs. There's no way out! What am I going to do?!...

It makes a little more sense on how and why Steve is able to shoot a gun, knows how to fly a goddamn plane, and understand military coordinates to find the basic location of their island versus Australia, where they eventually aim to hit in the escape measure at the ripe age of seventeen.

He had help from good ol’ Bob and probably some of the other inmates. Rockfort was both a military training facility and later a camp that held Umbrella’s transgressors captive. It wouldn’t be a shot in the dark how many knew about planes, guns, and the like. A gear-head isn’t hard to find in those ranks.

Striked out above was what I initially believed -- but if you’re a person who thinks that some portions of the written novels are canon, you’re like me. Let’s be real then. According to Steve, he’s been in the cockpit several times of private planes. It’s also stated by Steve that his father was a private truck driver that distributed/brought Umbrella’s products to their labs. For the longest time I believed he was a techy and was datamining information, but this works too.

But ari-- how the hell did Steve manage to be avoid infection with the air-borne T-virus strain? Yet again, I tell you to reach out to myrmecitis’s post regarding the virus. But the best explanation that sits in the lore is that Steve had a natural immunity, as do the STARS members. Certain chemical and DNA reactions issue different results and it’s possible that Steve was immune to that particular strain. Herd immunity or the game of chance.

However, we know for a fact that directly implementing a higher potent virus such as T-alexia in an injection results in something far different for our unfortunate Steve. I’ve got more brewing but that’s for another time.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 52

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Neo and I waltzed up on Aurum. I had my pipe clenched between my front teeth and was taking a pull on it long enough to make my head spin. Damn, it felt good. Silence, apart from the soul rending music. True peace with the bugs behind my face.

Cobalt and Obsidian were there and they were armed. Obsidian had a hatchet, red and black, and Cobalt had a machine gun. I could only guess who they were for. They didn't really concern me. I was a tough cookie and Neo was no slouch.

"Well you busted my boys out. I owe you for that," Aurum told me. "Join me. Have a seat."

I did, carefully maneuvering the harness of tools on my back. Neo plopped down beside me, kicking one leg up over the other. I watched Cobalt's eyes watch her legs and snorted a little. Maybe he hadn't seen any action in a while.

I took another long take on my pipe and made sure to blow it away from Neo out of a sense of politeness and professional courtesy.

"You got my information?" I half asked, half demanded. "I want to know about that facility."

"Easy champ. Relax. Have a drink." He poured one out for us. Neo obliged him but I was already cruising. The ceiling and walls were doing a decent rate in my head. It felt awesome but I didn't need to add to that in case things went sideways.

I tapped my pipe out on an ashtray. "You better not fuck around with me. I'll rip your party pad apart to find what I want and I'll hand you over to Neo. She'll chew into you."

"Don't be like that. I was just going to offer you more work. You did a good job and you're quite the badass from what I'm told." Obsidian shuffled, a touch nervously. Perhaps remembering coasting by guide wires thousands of feet above the ground as I flew him and his pal around. Or maybe he was remembering the way I ripped the roof off his prisoner transport. "I have no intention of pissing you off. I just wanted you to know that there was more I could offer you."

"Like what?"

"Money, for one."

"Not interested," I disagreed quickly. I had millions in digital currency and a few dozen grand in cash.

"Maybe so." He went with it easily. "How about information on the General. I can put you in contact with a group that will let you know what he's really up to. I don't have the details myself."

I reclined. He had my attention. I packed another bowl from my grinder.

"Let's hear about the Schnee and her facility first. Then we can talk about the General."

"Very well. She visits the Sinovial Bunker everyday. It's near the academy. All she does is visit this old lady the whole place is built around. Your guess is as good as mine as to why. I have a few eyes inside but they're not allowed close to the woman. The only person she's allowed to see is the Schnee, which death might be preferable to."

I nodded. It was the summer or winter maiden. It had to be. That made Winter the next maiden if the General's plan went well. Something to keep an eye on. I could set my trap for Cinder around the place.

"Or maybe your guess as to why is better than mine."

"Maybe." I took a toke, keeping the place spinning at an appropriate rate. Not too fast, not too slow. Indica tended to wear off fast.

"Well don't share everything all at once now." He laughed and poured himself another drink.

"I had no intention of doing so. You'd be the one owing me after that."

"So are you ready to talk about the General?" He asked.

"And a few other people. What have you heard about a man named Merlot?" I asked. He frowned and shook his head. "How about Tyrian Callows? Or Hazel Rainart? Or Cinder Fall?"

"The first one rings a bell. He's in Atlas if nothing else. A scorpion faunus, yes?"

I nodded. "He's incredibly dangerous. I have a bit of a vendetta against him. He tried to kill me once."

"He tried to kill you ."

"I wasn't always such a badass."

"Well if he comes up, I'll leave him to you, shall I?"

"That would be best. He might kill you and torture you for fun. He's a bit of a psycho."

"Well I'm willing to pass on information about all four. In exchange for a favor."

"What do you need me to do?" That's what I was. I was a doer. I got things done for people now.

"A rival gang is moving in on my territory. I need you to stomp them out. It shouldn't be a problem for somebody of your talents."

"You need them dead or just hurt?" I asked.

"Either or. I need them out of my way."

"Tell me more about them."

"They're called the Blue-Hats. You heard of them?"

I shook my head and exhaled smoke. It was quickly lost to the energy of The Den.

"They've got this big hang-out in Cerebri-Plaza. I'll show you." He pulled out his scroll and flicked open a map of Atlas. "They're fucking annoying."

"What do they do?"

"Run drugs mostly. Occasionally they do killings and beatings but mostly drugs. They're my main competition when it comes to hyper."

I nodded along. "And you want me to bust their skulls. Burn their supply, maybe."

"I like where your head's at. I'd rather you steal it for my boys but if you can't do that then go for it and burn it. Sure, why not?" He swallowed some of his drink. "My own boys haven't been able to crack at them, not since they were in prison. But now we have you. And I'd rather things didn't devolve into shooting in the streets. Try and keep it indoors. You get this done for me. And I'll find out about those four. All you want to know. Plus the General's secret project. What do you say?"

I chewed on my pipe and looked at his projected map of Atlas. "Send me their location information."

"What? You going to do it now?"

"I've got nothing better to do. I'll be back before the night is over. Keep my seat warm." If it was just this then it would be easy. Too easy. I sometimes forget what life was like for non-hunters. Considering how long I'd been a hunter.

I'd been at it for nearly my whole life. Practically my whole life. It's just that I was only three years old or so. I've been out of the tank that long, I guess. I was maybe four depending on how you wanted to cut your definition of life, which I realize was a discussion most people didn't have to have with themselves.

That's how long I'd been grown in that incubator to adulthood. Then I'd immediately gone to Beacon, had my aura unlocked, and started fighting.

It was a matter of relativity, I suppose. I'd been at it for arguably longer than Ruby or Yang had been. If it was a matter of ratios rather than time, that is.

"Well you do work fast," Aurum said in his tacky suit.

I stood up and Neo bounced on her heels behind me. "Yep." I told her. "We're off to smash some heads in. Get excited."

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It was a three story building and I took my time scoping it out. I'd had to pocket my pipe once I got outside of The Den. I was sure I had an earthly cologne, besides.

It was getting to midnight and sure enough a bunch of boys in blue hats came in and out of the building. The closest thing to gang uniforms that really existed besides the Malachites' gear.

It had nice glass windows and music and lights radiated from the inside. It sounded like as much of a party was going on inside as was taking place at The Den. It was too bad Neo and I were going to pop this joint.

I pulled a few red dust crystals and squeezed them until they shattered like I practiced. Then I waved a hand and blew out the windows on the top floor with fire. Screaming poured from the inside. I had told Aurum I was going to burn it and he made it clear he didn't care enough for me to not.

I palmed a yellow crystal and crushed it in my hand. I waved a hand and lightning struck the upper floor and shook the building.

I was going to shake and batter the place with my magic first. Then I was going to strike with Neo beside me. She had her umbrella leaning against one shoulder and was standing next to me, watching me cast my bolt against the building.

The building was all silver greys like much of the Atlas skyline. And it had been built to code with enough distance between it and the nearby buildings that the fire now burning inside wouldn't spread. It was an isolated target.

I activated my semblance. I felt the power flood over and throughout me. I focused my will, my very essence on holding onto the power as long as I could. I glowed blue and hummed with energy.  

I reached over my shoulder and drew the bronze and white longsword with the foot and a half long red handle. I spun it in one hand with ease, leaving my shield on my back. The broadsword would only be hampered in doors and I was fast enough that the shield wasn't necessary for these sorts of goons.

I walked up to the burning building and kicked the front door down and in. People came running out screaming and I let them. It was those staying behind to save the product from the burning building I would need to deal with.

A kid with a blue hat turned a pistol sideways at me and shot with atrocious aim. He had red hair and dark eyes. Another blakc haired kid added submachine gun fire to the mix and I rushed forward, hovering inches above the ground.

I slashed Mr. Gangsta to the ground. He fell screaming. Then I cut the submachine gun into pieces and reached my free hand out and grabbed the man still holding the butt of the weapon. I threw him behind me into a wall hard enough to crack it. Both him and the wall, that is.

There were people trying to save boxes from the upstairs fire. Boxes which I could smell were full of greens and it made my mouth water a touch. Unfortunately I couldn't have any of that and I raced at them and sliced the boxes out of their hands.

A knife came up at me which I blocked with my free hand and turned with incredible strength against its user, a brown haired kid with blue eyes. It sank into his stomach and he fell gasping to the stairs. Slumping to the side. Red smeared across his hair and face.

I snatched a pistol out of one of their hands and shattered it by squeezing it. I kicked him down but left him alone otherwise so he could carry the others to safety.

The last man had aura. It was blue and crackling.

I kicked him with both legs and he fell to the side. I bashed him with the pomel of Crocea Mors. I claimed the stairway to find Neo already fighting on the second floor. There were nearly fifteen Blue-Hats up here. I readied my sword and slashed the barrel of a rifle in two and throw the man behind it to the ground. I kicked him in the chin afterwards.

I slashed at another in the gut and he went down holding his chest and letting the blood fly free. I stepped past the dying man and onto the next. I stabbed with the tip of Crocea Mors and met resistance. More aura. I stabbed again and cut once and eventually made my way through it and he fell to the side bleeding.

I came up on a woman in a blue hat and long blonde hair. She was pretty enough with bright blue eyes but I cut her aside anyways with the diagonal edge of Crocea Mors' longsword.

I slammed the hilt of the blade into the skull of another and I pulled out another dust crystal. Yellow. I squeezed it and it turned grey as it broke and the energy came rushing up my arm. I pointed a hand forward and the bolt struck behind where seven of them were forming a foreign line and tossed them about like rag dolls.

Just because I was mostly immune to small arm fire didn't mean I wanted to go up against a firing squad. There were heaps of brown boxes in the corner and I watched the still growing fires consume them.

Neo wrapped her legs around one poor soul's head and flung him back into the flames where he screamed in real pure agony. Getting burned hurts. A lot. Getting burned all over probably hurts a lot more.

I grabbed a blue hat by the collar and picked him up with a casual strength and slammed his head into the ceiling then I tossed him aside. All these guys the fire would probably consume. I went back and stabbed him in the chest. It just seemed more merciful.

I could see plastic packets of hyper, some drown out on tables others still in their boxes. I palmed another fire crystal and let the fire burst forth from it. I was using dust raw. In its most destructive form. I'd heard of sewing it into clothes as Cinder did, I'd also heard of consuming it into the body to be used as a bit of an amplifier. This was either of those. This was the caveman's version of using dust. It was simple and raw.

I was strangely good at it. I consumed a crystal and cast my sword at a group of boxes and let the fires wash forth from the blade. I wasn't even sure I'd be able to hold onto the power very long. Better to use it before it hurt me and let it out.

I was still holding onto my semblance and I glided forward and front kicked a blue hat out of a window. He tumbled through the glass violently and fell the two stories.

The building was starting to cave in on us. Beams from the third floor where I'd sent my first blast were descending onto the second. And I'd set this floor ablaze a plenty.

"Neo! Let's bug out. Jobs done." I told her. The place was falling apart. I slashed at the wall and bounded out into the street and landed in a single massive leap.

I sheathed my sword and brushed ash from my dark clothes. I slapped at my cape where the lamp hung by my side. We made this look easy too. It would have been much harder if I'd been respecting the sanctity of life but who had the time and the power to do that. It would take a near god to go around sparing life in the sort of combat I was in. I could kill, that was abundantly clear.

But how could I minimize the loss of life in a burning building I was attacking? I couldn't stop time or manipulate space. My semblance just made me stronger and faster. And I wasn't sure that Neo would have been on board if I was trying to avoid death all the time. I wasn't sure I could keep her on my side if that was the case.

I released my semblance. Letting my power evaporate into nothing. I'd held onto it for a long time in there. I was sure that with enough practice I'd be able to hold onto the power indefinitely. I might even be able to combine different dust types with it and do all sorts of nasty things one day. For now all I was capable of was raw destruction with dust. I might be able to eat it one day with enough practice. And I had the money for dust and I was in the dust capital of the world.

I'd make time to practice magic. People like Aurum would give me all the targets I could ask for and one life was as inconsequential to me as another. I'd have my share of practice to use the power against.

But when I ran into Tyrian again I wanted to be ready to squash him like the bug he was. And when I fought Cinder again I wanted to have all the tools I could possibly have at my disposal. That meant practicing dust eating. That meant practicing using its raw form and perhaps using it with my weapon to bring out the greatest effect like Raven had done.

In a moment she had turned the tide enough in that fight to escape from me. When I had her dead to rights she'd used dust to leverage enough of an advantage, just enough, to win. I couldn't remain ignorant about dust any longer. I had to learn how to use it for magic.

For now that meant these little things against people like the Blue-Hats. But one day it would mean taking dust to that next level against monsters like Cinder. With enough dust, I could overcome the power of a maiden. I had literally no excuse to stop improving and stop getting better. So in the weeks Neo and I had traveled I practiced.

Yuma had been right to say I was loaded with the stuff. Now I could do minor destruction magic with it. It wasn't enough. It may never be enough but I had to use every resource available to me if I wanted to defeat Cinder. She was two maidens now. I wasn't sure there had ever been such a thing in all of history but she was now.

She also knew how to use dust and glass and gods only knew what her semblance was. She was dangerous. Probably more dangerous than me and more dangerous than ever. I need the edge dust could bring if I ever wanted to defeat her. That was why I brought Neo on board.

I needed to seize every edge.

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-WG

[thebonggirll]

Chapter 27 - Awkward

Chapter 26 

The last day of internship turned out way emotional that Y/N expected it to be. Baiji was bawling like a baby and her sidekick didn't nag her to be professional for the first time. Mostly because she didn't expect the interns to be so daring and different from the other ones. Oikawa was trying to act indifferent and manly but almost teared up when they arrived at the station. Everyone promised to keep in touch with each other.

Y/N's school started right after their internship. She filled in about how they started texting each other which felt extremely suspicious to Kyoka, but she was happy about the progress. Her eyes often went towards the door, waiting for that hot headed blond to enter the class. All of this progress was fine to her but, she wasn't sure if they were supposed to act like they were before or just talk to each other naturally. She knew how he acted in front of his squad whenever she talked to him. He felt embarrassed to talk to her and mostly avoided her in school.

"You know it's kind of weird how he suddenly did a 180 and started talking to you. I mean, he literally calls everyone an extra except for his own squad," Kyoka said to her.

"To be honest, I find this weird too. But it's nice to talk to him. He's funny sometimes and it's fun to tease him. He gets riled up so fast," Y/N said.

"Oh my god, you sound like you're went out with a guy on a date and now you're giving me review about the guy," Kyoka chuckled, "do you still blush?"

Y/N scoffed and said, "Shut up, you blush while talking to Kaminari. I've noticed it too."

"I blush when I wear skirt too, he's not special," Kyoka said, trying to defend herself, her cheeks going pink.

"Sure, you must be speaking the truth with that blush on your face," Y/N laughed.

The door opened, followed by Kirishima and Sero laughing loudly and saying, "Holy crap! What the hell Bakugou!" She looked at them and was presented with a sight - Bakugou looking like a pretty boy. He had his hair properly combed down.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. No matter how cute he looks, his attitude doesn't go well with that hair. She heard him complain and shout at them, "Stop laughing. My hair has gotten used to this and I can't get it back the right way. Did you not hear me? I'll kill you both!"

"I'd like to see you try pretty boy!" Sero said, still laughing. Y/N quickly took out her mobile and clicked picture of him.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME!" Bakugou shouted, his hair popping back up to what it usually looked like. She turned back to see Kyoka talking to Mina and Tsuyu, probably catching up to what their internships were like. Soon the conversation turned to the topic of hero killer and Kaminari pointed at them saying, "Now if you wanna talk about the ones who really changed, it was those four."

"Oh yeah! The hero killer!" Sero said.

"Glad you guys made it back alive, seriously," Kirishima said."

Y/N looked at the two boys being pulled by their collars by Bakugou who was looking at her back. She didn't know how to react and in a rush, she laughed and loudly called, "Hey pretty boy! Haha!"

Silence.

The whole class looked at her, noticing her sudden weird behavior followed by Bakugou shouting, "SHUT UP GRANDMA! I"LL KILL YOU!!" They were just surprised that Y/N actually made fun of him for the first time. Thankfully it didn't last long when Kaminari suddenly started talking about the viral video of the hero killer. Well this was awkward for both of them. After fighting with each other almost everyday, it was kind of hard to be suddenly friends with him and joke with each other. She usually had no problem but with Bakugou, when they just became friends, she didn't want it to become an issue. She wasn't so sure if he was gonna act like they usually did before their internship.

Bakugou also, found it a bit hard but he wasn't one to overthink about such things. So he talked to her naturally but at moments, when he looked at her, it made him feel shitty somehow. Like he wasn't doing something right.

Some kind of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

"I am ready! Hope you're ready to return to your lessons! Today it's hero basic training! Feels like I haven't seen you in a while! Welcome back!" All Might said, "Now then, listen carefully for what's in store. We're going to be conducting a little race. Take everything that you've learnt in your internships and apply it in this rescue training."

Iida's hand shot up as he asked the obvious question, "If it's rescue training, then shouldn't we be in USJ instead?"

"Ah, that facuility specializes in disasters. As I said earlier, this is a race. So prepare yourself! You're about to step into Field Gamma! Inside is a metal labyrinth densely packed with steel factories, so good luck finding a way around. You'll be competing in groups of five and one with six! Each person starts with a different location on the outskirts of the model city. I'll send you the distress signal and you do what you must to rescue me! Whoever finds me first, wins!" All Might said and slowly turned his head towards Bakugou with his fingers pointing towards him, and said, "But try to keep property damage to the bare minimum please."

"Why are you pointing at me-" Bakugou asked, turning his head away.

The first team included the students who had the best mobility in class - Iida, Ojiro, Mina, Midoriya, Sero and Y/N.

Sure she had good mobility and she could've won because of her speed too but jumping in an area with unstable footing and slippery surface, wasn't exactly favorable for her quirk. Her foot slipped at least three times. It was something she needed to work on and later find a way that will help her balance herself.

After the class was over, as the girls started changing into their uniforms, they started talking about their recent progress. Y/N got a lot of praises for her new technique, even though she came third in the race.

"We thought that was a one time thing you did during festival!" Mina exclaimed.

"Yeah, the hero I was training under said I should work on that since it can come in handy, you know?" Y/N smiled, awkwardly. She wasn't used to compliments.

"Yeah-" Mina got interrupted by Kyoka saying, "What the heck is this?"

Everyone turned around and found a small hole on the wall. The girls were all halfway to change into their uniforms, that is, half naked when they heard a voice, a very familiar and perverted one from the other side of the wall - the boy's lockerroom.

"Hey Midoriya! You won't believe what I just found! The jackpot! Someone made a hole into this wall! Our previous generation has given us a gift! You know what's next door, right? The girl's lockerroom!!" Mineta said pointing to the wall, where a poster was half ripped off to Midoriya who's mind was occupied with what All Might said after their race.

Iida being the gentleman and righteous person he is, immediately revolted against it. Hoping to stop Mineta before he did something bad, he said, "Don't even think about it! Peeping on them like that would be criminal!"

Mineta tore off the whole poster off and desperately said, "Then you'll have to throw me in solitary confinement cause you can't stop me!!!" He looked through the hole, hoping to get a glimpse of any of the girls, "I wanna see Yaoyorozu's curves, Ashido's slender waist, Hagakure's floating underwear, Uraraka's super tight body, Asui's soft boobies, Y/N's b-" Before he could further say anything vulger, Kyoka put her earphone jack through the hole and hit his eye.

"Ugh! Thanks Kyoka!" Uraraka said.

"Despecible. We're gonna close this hole immediately!" Momo said.

Kyoka went to her locker and started dressing back to his uniform as soon as Momo came forward to close the hole. Y/N lightly smacked her head and said, "I know that look."

She sighed and said, "Ofcourse you do. But he even called your name."

"And thankfully you didn't let him continue," Y/N's turned back to her locker, "Because I despise people like him more than any one else. Fucking disgusting."

"I might be crossing a line...but did you...face any kind of.."

"Kind of..I guess," Y/N said sighing, "I'll talk about it someday. I don't wanna kill my mood."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. You're gearing up to get a boyfriend."

"Shut up," Y/N said supressing her smile and biting her lips, "it's not that serious."

"Oh my god, you want to be serious!"

"Wha- shut up! I mean, ofcourse but not now!"

"No offence but a guy as rude and dense as him is not a good idea..." Kyoka said, "but you already have a crush."

"I am fully aware how bad that is. Besides," Y/N smiled, "I feel like...it's not the right time to date. We should concentrate on becoming a hero first."

"Well I'm just glad you know that."

"To be honest, I think almost every U.A. students do."

"You didn't have much girl friends did you?"

"....I did."

"Your cousins don't count."

"Aizawa's gonna make us stand outside if we are any more late than this."

Bakugou probably didn't hear about the little commotion because most of the time he ignores people, but Kirishima did fill his ear about that. Well, he was friend with a talkative guy to not know about things. And he didn't exactly have a reaction besides, "Whatever."

Aizawa made an announcement at the end of the last class, "Well it''s almost time for summer vacation. Don't get too excited. You can't just relax the entire month. You'll be training while you're camping in the woods. However, those of you who don't pass the final exam before the semester is over, will have summer school."

The whole class was half excited and half nervous, but overall way more looking forward to their training and sleepover. "Come to think of it, we never had a sleepover huh?" Y/N said to Kyoka while they were near the exit gate.

"Half of the time we are too tired. I think we would actually be sleeping if we have sleepovers," Kyoka said.

"Unless, we call the girls together oneday. But to be honest, I am not a whole ball of energy like Mina. I'll be sleeping anyway," Y/N chuckled, "Alright, bye!"

As Y/N was walking towards the station, she noticed her new friend on the way.

"Hello pretty boy~"

"Shut up! And use that mouth to read language cause your mistakes make me puke!"

"How do you even know that?!"

"Fucking Kirishima! He talks too much!"

"And you shout too much. Chill dude-"

"You're the one to talk," Bakugou muttered.

"I only shout at you though," Y/N said, "it's like the only form of communication when you're shouting."

"SHUT UP GRANDMA!" Bakugou shouted, "I've seen you get angry before."

"....he's disgusting. I mean don't you guys feel that way too?! Mineta, a fucking hero with an attitude like that?!!" Y/N said, "Besides, didn't you hear what he said about us girls? What he was about to do? If Kyoka didn't stop him, he would've commented shit about all of us. Doesn't it make you angry? Doesn't it bother you?!"

"Why should it?" Bakugou blurted out, "I don't care about extras like him."

"....okay," Y/N said. The rest of the time they walked together was silent. It was uncomfortable an awkward. It wasn't what exactly Y/N wanted to hear from Bakugou. Maybe somewhere she felt this was what he might answer, but a huge part of her did think he would hate Mineta's actions too.

But Bakugou on the other hand meant what he said. He didn't actually care. He isn't supposed to. But why was he feeling like this again? And even after Y/N said fine?

Just like before, some kind of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

Chapter 28

SEASON - II

Ignite

MASTERLIST

[themockingcrows]

Doki Doki Grist Panic! Ch. 1

pairing: John/Dave Characters: John Egbert, Dave Strider, Bro Strider cw: Canon Typical Violence, magical boys, more tags to be added as needed

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802735/chapters/68066416

The life of a magical boy is a tough one, but Dave doesn't really have much of a choice in the matter. It's the fate he was handed, and the fate he'll cope with. With new enemies spawning in his city left and right, Dave has his hands full trying to maintain the peace and little time for much else. That is, until the cute boy he rescued turns up in his college class and seems to share all of his interests. Is love on the horizon? Or is love too much to hope for in this line of work?

     There were nearly too many to count by the time Dave arrived on the scene, dark creatures that looked like they were born from an oil slick, their shoulders and head decked with odd looking colorful scraps of fabric collars and hats. Most of the people had fled the area when the hungry beasts had turned up, but a few victims had been downed by the creatures, their bodies lying limp surrounded by bright colorful gems of energy in a rainbow of colors.

     Grist. It was the energy of this planet, the energy that powered every living thing, and as such it was a tasty target for most enemies from beyond the asteroid belt who wanted a quick powerup. Dave had run into plenty of creatures before, both from home and from beyond, who were a threat to the populace, but he’d never seen beings act this efficiently before.

     Everywhere the creatures jumped they left behind an oily mess, even soiling the grist their greedy hands reached for, wanting to throw the delicate candy looking items into their mouths. Were they just going to eat them to further their own power? Or were they eating them to transport them? It didn’t matter. They weren’t going to get far. Dave was planning on doing a silent takedown, a sneak attack, but he realized there was a risk. A lone person was standing in the midst of the carnage, dark hair and tanned skin stark against a blue sweater the color of the crisp autumn sky itself and a bright white shirt collar.

     He had to get them safe, before they fell to the same fate as the scattered bodies.

     Right. Showy it was, then.

     “STOP RIGHT THERE,” Dave cried, bounding out of cover and out into view in a flash of red. His black and white knee high boots, black buttons shining on the side, clicked on the concrete as he landed safely from the larger than life jump he’d performed. The black leggings he wore beneath the red, gear pattern edged tunic were pristine from the recent transformation, the same material coating his arms and chest like a second skin. The dark red cape he wore fluttered in the wind, hood down and back, white hair windswept. It was quite the impressive appearance, all things considered.

     “Wh-what?” said the soon to be victim. His eyes were pretty to look at behind the thick glasses he wore, black frames perched on his nose. He didn’t look nearly as terrified as he should have, but then again shock can do a lot to a person.

     “Get to cover!” Dave barked, a gloved hand pointing to the clear area he’d come from. As planned, the creatures focused on him, pausing in their gorey gathering ritual to flock his direction. Another flash of red, the afterimage of a slowly ticking gear hanging behind him for a moment and Dave had summoned his weapon of choice, a long silvery blade with a gilt crossguard, broadsword firm and true. He bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment, hyping himself up as he shifted his grip, before pointing the sword at the incoming beasts.

     “You will not best me. I am a warrior of Earth and you’re not gonna get in my way!” he shouted.

     Time slowed around him briefly, the clock gear flashing in the air behind him as he darted forwards, giving him enough speed and delay to get in the heavy strikes he needed against the inky interlopers. Their bodies felt solid at first hit, but when they collapsed it was into grist and oil slick once more. Darting around this way, the creatures slower than usual, gave him an upper hand that was in some ways criminal. They were low tier creatures judging from their density alone and the lack of a fight they put up, but their numbers were still worrisome to Dave. He was panting by the time he finished the slicing and dicing, black gunk coated grist littering the ground behind him.

     He held the sword as he caught his breath before slowly straightening, loosening his grip on it and willing it back from where it had been summoned. The released grist was slowly beginning to move, rolling and bouncing back towards the limp bodies they had come from. With luck, they’d wake up soon. No doubt the police would be coming shortly, ambulance in tow, if only from the amount of people that had run away in terror.

     Right, where was- Oh. Good, there he was. The fellow from before, mister blue sweater, seemed fine and dandy. A little wide eyed in shock now, but who could blame him? It wasn’t often that Dave had to make appearances where people could see him. It was far, far easier being a magical boy out of view of the populace, guarding people from a distance, not having to deal with aftermath even if he was capable of making quick escapes unseen. Mister blue sweater might have been hit if he hadn’t exposed himself as he had.

     Actually, speaking of-

     “What’s your name?” Dave asked as he clicked his way closer to the bystander’s side, glancing him over. No sign of damage. A little oil on his shoes, when he looked closer, but otherwise unharmed. Good.

     “John,” said the black haired fellow. “Who are..?”

     Dave smiled a bit, reaching a gloved hand up to flick his bangs away from his face. “Doesn’t matter who I am. John, you got really lucky. Do me a favor: when the cops get here, make sure that the people who are still asleep get help. They should wake up soon, but some might be feeling sick for a while after this. Grist doesn’t always redistribute evenly, when there’s a lot scattered like that.” Pain in the neck, really, but what could anyone do? Somehow have an inventory of how much grist people had at the moment of attack then inventory reclaimed grist and distribute it evenly? Impossible.

     He smiled then, blue eyes crinkling at the edges, and showed buck teeth that were actually pretty charming when taken in with the rest of the whole. The upside of this duty Dave had, this burden in some lights, was that he got to see all kinds of people. Even the really cute ones. Charmed, but needing to beat feet, Dave smirked and turned around, making a series of difficult leaps to reach the top of the buildings before speeding away, flash stepping out of sight and allowing the magic to slowly fade. There were no more feelings of intense wrong, nothing on his internal radar nearby, at least for the night. Safety had returned. Time to relax.

     By the time Dave was closer to home, his hair had changed back to blonde from the stark white it had been during the fight, and the uniform had returned to the clothing he’d been wearing before the change, a simple t-shirt and some jeans with rips in the knees, sunglasses, high top sneakers and a chain wallet, his keys with the stupid heart keychain Dirk had given him that he’d never bothered to get rid of. He made his way up the long sets of stairs before unlocking the door with his key, waving to his Bro where he sat on the futon in front of the television, playing a video game.

     “Hey.”

     “Hey,” he heard back, ignoring the sound of familiar game music in favor of carefully raiding the fridge for something to eat. “Very big of a mess this time?”

     “Nah. Nothing I can’t handle,” Dave said, settling on a bottle of juice. Instant ramen sounded better than the leftovers that were available, even if it was mostly salt and carbs. He was tired and needed something hot. “Y’know, if you thought it might be a big mess you could’ve at least bothered to cook.”

     “You’re a big boy, you can handle it,” Bro said casually. “When I used to run around on the beat, I-”

     “Flew uphill both ways in the snow,” Dave said flatly, annoyed, but breaking his noodles into a bowl and adding water and the powder before slapping it into the microwave to cook.

     “No, I was gonna say I didn’t have anyone to run me a bath and cook me stuff, I was on my own. If I could do it, you can do it. Who knows when I won’t be here to help back you up anyway?”

     “Back me up?” Dave said, brows lifting over his shades. “You can’t back shit up when it comes to some of these things!”

     “Please, Dave. I might not be magic anymore, but I still know how the fuck to fight some monsters.”

     “If anyone could back me up against monsters, it’d be Dirk, but he’s off bein’ a prettyboy ninja stud fuck knows where. You need magic to beat this shit, or at least the shit that’s turned up in the last few years. You know that. You knew that before you gave everything up an-”

     Bro was quiet for a moment before he paused his game and sighed, leaning back against the futon, interrupting Dave’s train of words. “Yeah, yeah, I know. C’mon, man, at least let me pretend I’d be useful to your ass beyond fightin’ practice.”

     “I don’t need fighting practice! You always wanna use katanas, I use a broadsword! A broadsword!” Dave said, looking to the microwave when it beeped before aggressively popping it open. He grabbed a fork and his hot noodles before heading for the hallway. “I’m gonna go eat, shout if you need me. Or text, or whatever.”

     Bro frowned, but let Dave go without a word. Not that he could really say much. He knew how much stress Dave was under, knew he could probably help in some ways that would matter a lot, but knowing there was no way to gauge how much longer he’d even be around to begin with, it made it hard to know when to try being close and when to push further away.

     Probably better to just keep things at arms length like they had been for a few years now, make it easier for them both. The last thing Bro wanted to do was become a source of weakness for Dave, after all.

     It was the least he’d be able to do.

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

      The last face Dave expected to see on Monday was a familiar one. Amidst the chatter of his classmates filling the lecture hall, Dave spotted messy dark hair and shining blue eyes, black glasses with thick square lenses. When he spoke, when he grinned at someone, he saw the buck teeth that had finalized the squirm in his stomach on the weekend. It was still early enough in the semester that students were dropping and adding classes left and right, so it wasn’t unthinkable that there’d be another handful of new faces in the class for a while. The fact it was this one, though, was surprising. More surprising still was the eventual way the tall guy made his way towards the back, towards Dave’s table, and pointed at the seat beside him.

     “That open? Everyone else has their bags on their chairs, I guess they’re saving them for someone else,” he said.

     More like trying to deter randos from sitting beside them, Dave thought, realizing he’d forgotten to do the exact same thing. Whoops. Oh well, not the worst person in the world to want to sit beside him and listen to the professor prattle on up in front of the lecture hall.

     “Yeah, it’s open,” said Dave after a moment of processing that… shit this guy was pretty fucking cute up close. Sounded nice too, when he wasn’t high off adrenaline. He kicked his backpack further under the tabletop and glanced down at his laptop, making sure he wasn’t on anything embarrassing without realizing it. Nope, youtube and a flash game till the class started (and for during class if the guy went off topic and wouldn’t get back to the relevant things for class, as was this Professor’s apparent specialty).

     “My name’s John,” offered messy hair as he sat down. “What’s yours?”

     His name didn’t matter.

     “Dave,” he said, grinning a bit. “Nice to meet you, John.”

     “Oh man, you’re subscribed to them too?” he asked suddenly, pointing to the screen. “I’ve been watching their Lets Plays for years, it’s kinda amazing how much they break the games they play. And it’s neat to see two girls running a channel that big, normally it’s guys as far as the eye can see.”

     “Yeah? I feel ya,” Dave said, glancing to the screen again and clicking to pause. Rose was in the process of executing a risky near game breaking glitch that would speed them towards the ultimate weapon of the game, while Jade was explaining the process and the details, as well as the history of the game itself, and giving real life comparisons to the events and reality. He’d seen this episode at least a half dozen times, but the duo were charming as hell and really knew their shit. Cut throat and cut throat, and yet entertaining and casual. “Space Needle is kind of a weird name for a channel though. Isn’t that a landmark somewhere?”

     “I know, but have you heard Jade go on about space and technology before?”

     “Oh yeah, her science corner,” Dave mused. Shit, this guy really was a fan. ...Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad being distracted by him after all, they’d managed to break the ice without even a second thought.

     The professor had finally made his way into the classroom, however, and Dave nodded his direction to John, who hurriedly dug into his bag for his own laptop. Right, time to focus now. They could geek out later. Dave didn’t miss the Space Needle sticker on the back, along with an impressive amount of other insignia that Dave could only guess at. Dude seemed into pop culture to a wicked degree, there were even memes on display, up to date ones too.

     They were hard cut to focus though, finding it much more fun to whisper back and forth about their favorite episodes, their favorite quotes, in jokes and memes. John apparently had started watching fairly recently but was already die hard, and was living for Dave’s deeper lore on the channel. The whispering only stopped when the professor focused enough to catch them, calling for quiet in the back. They exchanged guilty smirks and went back to actually focusing, taking notes from the display and trying to decipher what would be most important from what was being said to note down as well.

     When the class ended, it was back to business as they packed up and headed out, deciding to hit the cafeteria for more conversation and a snack before they had to go their separate ways. Dave’s eventual regretful time to leave came all too soon after he’d finished some fries, and he was surprised  when John handed over not only his discord information, but his phone number on a scrap napkin. His handwriting was messy but clear, and on his way to his next destination Dave took care to gently set it into his bag for later.

     He’d gotten a cute guys details without even asking. Discord was one thing, but his phone number? Holy shit. The fact that it’d be difficult to remain casual with him was going to be the next task at hand, what with his duties and all, but Dave had confidence he’d manage it.

     He could handle saving the world. Of course he could handle a cute guy at the same time.

     Somehow.

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

     Somehow seemed a lot further away when Dave was busy. A lot less possible. How could he juggle a friendship casually, much less with a really cute guy, while dealing with shit like this every other day? Another attack had laid low several people, with the creatures showing they could reproduce with enough of the inky substance on the ground. Someone had unleashed another flow of them, but this time they seemed prepared to fight back.

     They had sharp claws that cut at the fabric of Dave’s cape, and his usual speed didn’t seem enough for dealing with them with such a heavy weapon. He vaguely wished he had the skills to use a katana like Dirk or Bro properly, one handed and speedy as sound itself, but alas. His mantle was the royal deringer and no less. Fate seemed to think he could handle a broadsword, so a broadsword he was dealt.

     When a group of the imps managed to knock him over, sending him flying into the air and then skidding along the ground till he came to a halt, Dave knew he’d need to change tactics. Slowly getting up onto his scuffed white boots once more, Dave began to circle the creatures, biding his time and waiting till he could strike properly. They were mindless before, but this time they seemed to be working as a team, occasionally using each other as weapons or sending projectiles made of sludgy oil Dave’s direction. He’d dodge, dance backwards, flash step sideways to avoid. He needed to act quickly, though. It appeared as though there was potentially a way for them to combine themselves, to become even larger. Deadlier. Finally though, they left themselves open.

     Gritting his teeth, Dave felt the surge in his blood as the gears activated in the air behind him, flashing brightly as they turned. He flash stepped forwards and angled his blade, slicing clean through four in a go before flash stepping another direction and backstabbing another. He bounced about this way for a good thirty seconds of real time, dodging slightly slowed attacks and striking what he hoped were key points of these taller, more deadly imps. Grist showered the ground with the falling oil, a slow motion wave that only grew in intensity as he finally shouted and beheaded the final creature and came to a knee to catch his breath.

     His arms burnt, his back ached, and the ticking throb in his head only seemed to get more and more intense as the gears slowed and finally disappeared following his strife. He was coated in oil, and was thankful he didn’t need to worry about cleaning and detailing his weapon as he sent it back where it had come from, let alone cleaning himself or his uniform. He ran a hand through oily white hair and grimaced, looking at the fallen grist, the fallen people, and shook his head.

     A repeat attack so soon, escalating no less, meant that this foe wasn’t just another one and done mission. Something felt… wrong. Intensely wrong, really. Dave couldn’t put his finger on it, but his instincts were telling him to be wary of the situation.

     With the sound of sirens on the horizon, Dave bolted from the scene, taking to the building tops with some parkour and extreme jumps, flash stepping some distances and simply taking cover for others till he could return to the ground in a desolate area. Away went the magic, a gear appearing overhead and quickly whipping over him to the ground, returning him to his normal clothes.

     If only it could take away the fatigue, too.

     And the sense of loneliness that cropped up not long after as he was walking back to where he’d ditched his backpack originally tonight, passing by a gaggle of people out having fun, unaware of the danger that lurked around them. Unaware of just how great they had it, being able to go to the movies with friends whenever they wanted to instead of forever being on call.

     Would he be like that someday, somehow? Find a way to get peace for extended periods, or peace everlasting? Not eternally being on call? Or would he be like Bro, powerless and essentially alone, traumatized and waiting for his timer to tick down. ...No. He’d never be like Bro, probably. Bro had given everything up for him. It was his fault he was-

     A chirp from Dave’s phone alerted him that he was near his bag, and just in time to boot. He rummaged in the pocket to dig it out, and blinked at the screen.

     John. 

     That’s right… He had a friend now. ...Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. He actually smiled as he lit the screen up and tapped out a reply, shouldering his bag before heading home. It was more discussion of Space Needle, which was a welcome distraction from how Dave felt, and how his thoughts had begun turning.

ectoBiologist:  so like i was saying, i just heard about their next lets play and i’m freaking out a bit! turntechGodhead:  yeah?? whats planned ectoBiologist:  they’re going to cover SBURB! can you believe it?turntechGodhead:  sburb huh turntechGodhead:  seems their style i guess turntechGodhead:  didnt it get kinda mid reviews though ectoBiologist:  some people rated it sub par but i don’t care, i think it sounds great. ectoBiologist:  i don’t know what would be better, if it was a great game or if it was a spectacular piece of shit they can tear apart on screen. turntechGodhead:   think theyll stream any of it ectoBiologist:  oh shit i hope so!

     The banter carried Dave all the way home, up the familiar stairs, and into the apartment where he was surprised to smell food cooking. The room was warm from the stove and oven being on, catching Dave out of the conversation and into reality once more, freezing and lifting a brow.

     “Okay, what’s happenin’, you don’t cook.”

     Bro, sprawled out on the futon again with his long legs crossed, smirked from beneath the brim of his hat.

     “Excuse the fuck outta you, I do too. It’s just been a goddamn long time.”

     “Okay, you don’t cook for me though,” Dave clarified, setting his bag down.

     “Who said it’s for you?”

     “...”

     “I’m fuckin’ with you. There’s a casserole in the oven and some sides on the stove. Eat up.”

     “I need a shower first,” Dave said, remembering all too well the feeling of oil in his hair, oil hitting his face, the bittersweet smell of the inky sludge. After warning John he was going offline for a bit, Dave dropped his bag in his room and went to clean himself up. It’d be the first night in a long while he felt secure, comfortable, warm, clean, AND full all at once.

     There were worse ways to spend an evening than falling asleep on his phone after too much supper. Though, right then, Dave couldn’t really think of any. All he could think about was the cute boy on the other end of the discord handle, his favorite gamers prepping for a new title they could experience at the same time, and the lulling comfort of sleep seeping into his bones.

[pani-slunce]

To my sister

Hey sis it’s me uh

Oh I’m Eszti but you also knew me as your big sister so

Sorry, I called you the wrong name, see abusive seems more fitting

See you may not have been like my grandparents who beat for the “religious crimes” I was committing

But doing what you did hurt me worse then any type of physical hitting

You know what was up, you know when we were young I loved you more then a sister

Had me in the bathroom saying “stop kissing and try to resist her”!

You felt it too, you may not admit it to your husband

Afraid of admitting what we had will get you into some trouble

I still remember when we were kids you abandoned me like I was nothing

Our grandparents caught us in bed together while we were lovin

We both got a beating so bad my leg was too broke for running.

So we made a pact of trust that we will help each other through the abuse no matter what

Until you chickened out and threw me under the bus, called me a pervert, faggot, molester, a child of Satan and everything under the sun, saying you tried to keep it hidden but now that your done

Until the next day you left in a hurry leaving broken me as the only one

My grandparents believed all your lies and as a result my torment had begun

For the first few months they locked me in the closet, thinking that being isolated will cure me being gay but did the opposite

What made it worse was the only contact I had was my domestic kidnappers who gave me some food and read me bible versus

From everyday since then I wanted to be carried away in a hearse, and you leaving only made it worse

I sat wondering if I’d ever see the light that keeps being preached to me, but not being able to tell if it was night or day made me even more gloomy

Trying to find anything in the closet thats sharp and can go right through me

After a few months of isolation my grandparents let me out, there only reason was so cops wouldn’t be called to the house

I had to enroll back in school which is exactly what I did, not knowing what to do and suffering from trauma as a kid

I was always the shy one and you knew that, without you I can’t even talk to others for 5 minutes without getting a heart attack and falling flat

Dealing with so much at school then coming home to be beaten. I was too scared to call the cops for so many reasons

A few days of school and I painted my school uniform black, it was symbolic for what I see when my parents used to break objects on my back

Because I blacked out from the pain, not that you would know, you lived a happy life day by day

Getting no sleep and being beat until sunrise, why didn’t I just die, because the lord wanted to see my demise for my crimes

I admit it, yes I fell in love with my own sister, we tried our best to keep it hidden but that doesn’t mean we need to be killed for being different

No childhood, at the park I tried to make my mark, but it was ruined when my grandma would tell the children that I will cut and gut them and hang them up like art

That’s why in all of grandmas photos the children stand far apart, all the kids together smiling and the kid in the back standing in the dark

The bullying from kids got worse as the years in school progressed, mix it with abuse and social anxiety and you get a new level of stress

Wearing black while looking like a freak made me feel like I was stronger inside, because I knew my family and the lord weren’t at my side

And I never knew why, some people are just born on this earth to be used and die

On the bright side I knew when I arrived in hell that Satan couldn’t hurt me if he tried

Suicide attempt after suicide attempt made my mind twist a bit, because even at ending my own life I was dog shit

I just wanted to quit, I didn’t care living or dead I just exist and the final straw broke when I found out that half the kids that hurt me was because my grandmother paid them for it

After a over a decade of abuse from almost everyone I knew, I ran away hopeful that I could live with you

Ya know in all of those years I prayed that you would be my rescue, that you would come through

I even tried to scare my bullies off using you, I’d say “when my sister comes, their won’t be anyone she can’t breakthrough” saying it out my bloody mouth as my eye was bloodshot red from being beaten black and blue

But you never showed, did you?

It took weeks of searching and help form police to find you

I knocked on your door hoping to be reunited in open arms, but when you answered you sounded a alarm

Called your boyfriend and told him that I was trespassing and harrasing you, did your head blow a gasket

He made me leave and all I could do is cry and weep

After all those years of your lies you still blame me

You didn’t say hi or that you were sorry, I couldn’t go back to my grandparents so i joined the army

When I passed all my medical test I thought that maybe for once I’ll have a ok year

I even got my job field of being a engineer, but what I didn’t hear is that they pick the specific job, I thought I’d spend my time in the army grinding gears

But no I spent my years trying to diffuse bombs as bullets appeared, with the slightest mistake and I wouldn’t be here

So many counties seeing the worst in every human being, as you were at home worrying about premature creation of offspring

After a few years I got charged for doing the right thing, I was charged for murder when I killed terrorist?!?

Something that is celebrated by a lot of other veterans, because I was “cruel” to the very people that kill innocents is breaking the rules

I was dishonorably discharged, no pay, no benefits

Let’s not forget the negative papers to tell any future employers that I’m mentally deficient

After all this time a few days ago you decided to show up at my house with your spouse

We tried to catch up after all this time but you acted like your memory was hazzy, and you did apologize even though it was rehearsed and lazy

But what your husband said made me go crazy

Saying that he hated that I was in the army because he has “morals”

And that even though I’ve been in combat I should be able to act normal

I may have done a lot in the military, but it opened my eyes to a world I wasn't supposed to see

Made me happy that I didn't know you

But seeing you at that table made it suck cuz you didn’t give a fuck

Still after all of these years, you still hide behind your mistakes

I tried to be passive

But your husbands mouth was massive

I don’t care you love him more than me, he had to get his ass kicked

I just thought I get this off my chest, I have to type it on tumblr because I know when it comes to ignoring my calls you try your best

You will always keep lying sis

About you being a faggot, bitch

You couldn’t even look me in the eyes to talk sis

And after all of this I could still forgive you if you talk sincerely sis

But now if I ever got the chance to ask you sis

And call you

I hope you answer

I really hope you answer

When I call

I hope you pick up your phone

I want to talk to you

Please answer

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

New Fic!

I initially wrote this fic for the Carry On Countdown deleted scene/ missing scene prompt but didn’t manage to finish it/edit it in time. Then I thought I would use it for the Carry On Big Bang, to have an actual FINISHED fic ready before deadline for once. But I wasn't sure if there was enough inspiration for an artist in this fic. And I'm impatient when I have a finished fic in my files. And I had another idea for COBB. So here it is--a canon based, gap-filler of the night they went searching for Nicodemus. 

I Follow You

Simon

I’m sitting in this posh car of Baz’s and flipping through the radio stations. There’s not much music at Watford, not since the Mage banned electronics. I stop at the station playing Christmas carols.

It’s not felt like Christmas at all this year. The days have blended together so the fact that it’s almost Christmas has caught me by surprise.

I’d be hiding out in the den with Agatha if I’d been at the Wellbeloves. Their big party is on Christmas Eve and it’s always a madhouse there in the days leading up to the actual event. Mrs. Wellbelove never liked us underfoot.

Well, she didn’t like me underfoot. And Agatha hated helping Helen dust, so we’d skive off as much as we could.

I’m relieved Baz told his step-mum we’d miss the evening meal tonight. I guess relieved isn’t quite the right word. I’m a bit gutted to miss the food but thankful to be spared another awkward encounter with his family.

I suppose I’ll have to sit through Christmas dinner with them. Won’t that be a treat. I wonder if Baz will try to make me wear coat and tails, the tosser. I’d look like a damn penguin, I would.  

And he’d look like a fucking prince, the prat. I can just see it. I shake the thought out of my head.

Baz is taking forever.

I look out the passenger side window but there’s no sign of him.

I’m glad he said I didn’t have to go in with him. His aunt Fiona creeps me out. She looks so much like Baz but with sharper edges somehow. Looks at me like she’d burn me to cinders with her eyes if she could. Baz has threatened to burn me to ash more times than I can count but somehow his eyes never look quite as disconcerting as hers do.

I can’t sit still. I think about getting out of the car to stretch my legs but I don’t want to risk locking myself out. Merlin, I’d never hear the end of it from Baz if I did. I’ve not got my wand to magic myself back in, even if I could spell it open without some disaster happening to the car itself.

Not something I’d particularly want to explain to Mr. Grimm.  

I tap my fingers on the armrest.

What could be taking so long? He’s supposed to ask her about Nicodemus, not stop for tea and biscuits and a bit of a jaw.

I pull at the collar of my jumper. I don’t really want to stretch it out but the neck is snugger than I like.

Not that it’s even my jumper. It’s Baz’s. Soft and posh, a pale Nordic blue. Even smells like him.

Baz insisted I wear something other than my uniform. Said I looked twelve in my Watford gear, which is rot.

At least he let me wear my own trousers. Imagine the laugh of me wearing his posh jeans—too long in the leg and too tight in the arse, no doubt.

He does look imposing in the suit he’s got on. It fits him just right, like all his clothes do, the wanker. The only clothes that fit me like that are my Watford ones. In the summers I just make do with trackies, t-shirts and baggy thrift-shop jeans.

But even my magically fitted Watford clothes have never looked anywhere near as sharp as Baz’s stylish togs. Looks right fit he does.

Dr. Wellbelove let me borrow one of his posh suits one Christmas. I wasn’t as tall or as broad in the shoulders then. It looked good. I looked good. I looked like I belonged there, next to Agatha, even if the suit hung a bit loose.

I didn’t look like I belonged last night at Pitch Manor. I looked out of place—flushed and stammering, my wrinkled school uniform starkly plain against all their posh clothes. Even with Baz wearing jeans, rather than the waistcoat and silk scarf I’d always imagined he’d wear to lounge around at his ancestral home.

Like some brooding protagonist in a Gothic novel.

I didn’t belong there yet somehow it still felt like they were trying to make me feel welcome, odd as that may be. Mr. Grimm didn’t say much after greeting me, but he didn’t make any snide comments or asides about the Mage either. Baz’s step-mum just kept passing me platters of food and giving me these fleeting little smiles when I’d pile more on my plate. I couldn’t say no. I always thought Cook Pritchard’s food was the best, but this was even better than the meals at Watford. I had to pop my trouser button before the pudding last night.

I wasn’t going to pass on eating that trifle.

Baz

Fiona was painfully resistant to providing much information about this Nicodemus. There’s more to his story than she’s telling me, that’s for damn sure.

Who would go to the vampires? It doesn’t make sense. A Mage has power in and of himself. Magic gives us so much. Why trade that to become a pariah and an outcast?

An eternal life being ostracized?  Sounds more like hell. I think the immortality rumors are complete rubbish. We’d be overrun by vampires if they were true (I don’t want them to be true.)

All I know for certain is that we have to go to Covent Garden. Fiona spilled that at least. I should be able to sniff them out. Follow the scent of a fresh kill.

I hate that.

I hate that they’re out there, lurking in the shadows. Preying on some poor sod who had too much to drink. Some girl who made the mistake of walking to the tube station alone.

I can’t save them all. I can’t save any of them.

Not by myself. Not even with Snow. What are we going to do—take on an entire pack of vampires on our own? I think the fuck not.

No. It’s not the time for retribution. I need to know the truth about what happened. Why my mother seems to trust this Nicodemus when Fiona—who was his friend (or more) (I don’t want to think about that)—can barely bring herself to speak his name.

I need answers. I can burn it all down another time.

Although this may be the only time I have Snow at my side.

On my side.

He’s all agitation and tumbled curls when I get in the car. “Did she tell you anything, Baz?”

“She told me enough.”

“What’s that mean?”

I sigh as I start the car. “It means I have an idea of where to find him.”

“So we’re off to the vampire lair, then?”

I give him a withering look. “No, Snow, not yet.”

“Well, why the hell not? You know where to look now, yeah?”

“I’d rather find them after they’ve fed. They might not be all that interested in me but you look like a tasty snack.” In more ways than one, but I keep that thought to myself.

He does though. Snow looks fabulous. He looks gorgeous all the time, but the sight of him in my clothes—there’s an intimacy to it that’s threatening to wreck my composure.

Breathtaking. That’s what he is.

Even now, in this old jumper of mine. It stretches over his broad shoulders, hugs his chest, in just the right way. The colour brings out the blue of his eyes.

I want him to keep it.

I know that’s stupid. But I don’t wear it and the thought of Snow having something of mine—something that brushes against his skin, that soaks in the scent of him, that is tangibly my own and now his--that’s tantalizing, I must admit.

I’ll make sure he takes it with him when he goes.

Fuck.

I don’t want him to go.

But what reason do I have to convince him to stay once we get answers from Nicodemus? None, really.

Not unless I can find a way to draw it out. Keep the truce going through the winter break. Make him stay by my side as we puzzle this mystery out.

Entice him with more of Daphne’s cooking? That actually might work. He’d certainly not stay for me.

Snow’s voice interrupts my fantasies of toasting New Year’s Eve with him at my side. “So what’re we going to do then? Just drive around until what, dinner time?”

My tone is sharper than I intend when I answer. “No, you berk, we’ve got research to do.”

Simon

So now we’re at the British Library. I’ve never seen so many books in one place. Entire floors of them. Galleries full. It’s a world of books.

Baz is striding around as if he owns the place, pulling books off the shelves, foraging through catalogues, going up on tiptoe to reach the higher racks.

I’m following behind, carrying books. I can barely see over the towering pile he’s burdened me with. “Can I put these down somewhere? Nab a table for us or something?”

Baz frowns, places two more books on the stack in my arms, then narrows his eyes at me. “You’d have to stay at the table, to make sure the librarian doesn’t reshelve them while I keep looking.”

“It would be a treat to stop following you around like your own personal book Sherpa.”

I think Baz almost smiled. His lips quirked up and it wasn’t a sneer for once.

“Fine, Snow. Your Sherpa duties are suspended. Find a quiet spot, and I’ll join you in a bit.”

There’s precious few people here besides us.

I suppose most people don’t willingly spend their Christmas holiday in a library. Baz looks as if he couldn’t be happier. It’s odd to see him so . . . well, maybe content is the right word? He’s more at ease here, almost smiling to himself as he pulls books out, carefully flipping through them, and then putting them back on the shelf. I think he actually patted one a moment ago, before setting it aside.

I can’t help but think of how similar he is to Penny. They’re both absolutely gone when it comes to books. Can’t get enough of them. I’ve been to Penny’s house before—I’ve seen how she gets when her mother brings home a load of new books.

Baz has that same gleam in his eye right now. But softer somehow, like his edges have been smoothed a bit.

Merlin, maybe the trick to getting him to soften up is to surround him with books. Distract him from his plotting to end me.

Although he’s not done much scheming since our truce. I haven’t had that feeling from him at all. It’s odd. Unnerving in a way.

I kind of like it.

Which is bollocks, because as soon as we’ve figured things out everything will go back to how it was. Stinging comments. Dirty looks. Spats about the window, the bathroom, the smell of my magic, my dismal inadequacies as a mage—all the miserable interactions we usually have.

Baz joins me a short time later, a tower of books in his arms. He pushes one pile toward me and keeps the other for himself.

“Any mention of vampires, Snow. That’s what we’re after. Get to it.”

And with that he buries his nose in the book he’s holding and it’s research time.

Bloody hell. He is just like Penny.

We leave an hour later with our stash on the table slightly diminished. Baz has pocketed at least three of the books and he’s ignoring my outraged looks.

“You can’t take those,” I hiss at him.

“It’s the British Library, Snow. It’s meant for all of us.”

“To read the books, you privileged prat, not steal them.”

“I’m not stealing. I’m borrowing. That’s what libraries are for, in case you’ve conveniently forgotten, Snow.”

“So you’re telling me you’ll bring them back, then?”

“I’m not a barbarian.”

“I’m sure you’re breaking some law.”

“It’s our tax dollars at work on the upkeep here, Snow. And I highly doubt they’ll miss them.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re overly self-righteous. It’s tedious.” He turns and raises one eyebrow. “Come along, now. We’ve not got all day.”

My stomach rumbles as we make our way to where Baz parked his car (illegally, I might add) (he spelled the no parking sign invisible, the wanker.)

I hope our next stop is dinner.

It’s not.

Our next stop is the fucking British Museum.

The Reading Room to be exact. Baz pilfers a few more books. I end up arguing with him again. He’s trying to get me to hide one of them under my jumper.

“Listen. You can’t just do this. You can’t just take those books.”

“I told you, it’s research.”

“it’s treason, is what it is.”

“Are you going to tell the Queen, Snow?”

I huff and make him steal his own books. I’ll not be party to theft against the Crown, for Merlin’s sake.

The museum closes and we wander around until my stomach rumbles loudly again. Baz rolls his eyes.

“Well, I don’t see why the vampires get to have a meal before we go searching for them and we don’t,” I complain.

“Ugh, fine.” He waves an arm around the square. “Find a place. Just not a chippy. I don’t want to get grease stains on the books.”

“Oh, now you’re worried about the books.”

We find a place where I can get a curry and some samosas. Baz doesn’t order anything. He sits across from me, sucking on his fangs and flipping through the pages of some dusty leather tome—the one he was trying to get me to pilfer.

I expect this is why he’s never had a girlfriend. At least none that I’ve heard about. Can’t imagine many girls would be up for dates that involve library research, outright larceny and being ignored all through dinner. Not bloody likely, even if he is all posh and fit.

Baz slams the book shut, startling me just as I’m scooping up the last remnants of my tikka masala.

He stands up. “Come along, Snow.”

He’s out the door in an instant. I don’t know how he moves that fast.

I scramble to follow him outside. “Are we going after the vampires now, then?”

“Would you keep it down? I don’t need our business broadcast through all of Bloomsbury,” Baz hisses as he sweeps past me, heading down the street in the direction of the car (illegally parked again) (it’s getting to be a habit, this criminal activity of his.)

I buckle in and narrow my eyes at him. “So Covent Garden, then? That’s where she said they hang out?”

Baz glances at his watch (I swear to Merlin it’s a fucking Rolex). “Bloody hell. How can it only be eight o’clock?”

“What’s the problem? It’s dark out. The vampires should be on the prowl by now.”

I get another eye roll. The similarities between Baz and Penny are really starting to grate on me.

“No, Snow. They won’t start this early. It’ll be close to midnight before they’ve got easy pickings from the drunks heading home for the night.”

I frown at him and cross my arms over my chest. “How do you know this?”

Baz sighs. “I don’t know anything. It’s just conjecture. It’s sure to be a damn sight easier to lure someone into a dark alleyway late in the night, rather than when commuters are still crowding the streets and club goers are just heading out.” He meets my gaze, eyes grey as the winter sea, but lacking their usual spark. “It’s how predators work, Snow.” His shoulders sag as he leans back in his seat.

I think of all the times he slipped back into our room late in the night. I think about the hollowed-out rat corpses in the Catacombs. I think about the night I found him down there, fifth year.

I decide not to push Baz on this.

“So what’re we going to do now? Rob another library?”

That gets the flash back in his eyes as he directs a glare at me. “We’re going to go to the feeding grounds.”

That sounds sufficiently ominous.

It’s not what I expect.

It ends up Baz means the various dance clubs scattered around Covent Garden. The clubs that spill out drunk and boisterous revelers at all hours of the night. Revelers who need to catch buses or the tube or flag down taxis in the dark and twisty streets. Pretty girls who may not notice the unnaturally pale skin of their dance partners in the multi-colored strobe lights of a dance bar. Carousers who eagerly take the offer of a ride home from the bloke who’s been sitting next to them at the bar for the last few hours, making pleasant conversation about Arsenal.

Baz

There are a surprising number of people out and about in Covent Garden tonight, considering it’s Christmas Eve. It takes me an inordinately long time to find a parking spot. We could have walked from the restaurant, as Snow keeps unhelpfully reminding me, but I prefer to have the option of a quick getaway, should things turn ugly with the vampires.

This was probably a mistake, coming here with him.

Snow continues to badger me as we get out of the car. He’s far too hung up on this and I simply don’t have the patience for it.

“Crowley, Snow, it’s not like I spend all my time plotting your downfall. I do have a life that doesn’t revolve around you.” Not quite a lie but close enough.

“But dancing? You go dancing? You can’t be serious.”

I can’t believe this is what he’s fixated on. I give him a withering look. “It’s called having fun, Snow. Ever tried it?” I want to take the words back as soon as I see his face fall. Of course he hasn’t. His life has been an endless shuffling from care home to care home, except for when he’s at Watford where he spends any free time he has training as the Mage’s boy soldier—honing his skills as a weapon of destruction.

I feel like an absolute wanker. But I can’t take it back now. I can never take back anything I say to Snow. It stays there, written on both our souls in indelible ink.

Simon

“You can’t be serious,” I say. “I’m not going to a dance club.”

“Then you can sit in the car and wait, Snow.”

Well, I’ll be fucked if I let him go sneaking off on his own. I trot down the sidewalk after him. “Baz, this makes no sense.”

He whirls back to face me, the streetlights highlighting half his face, the rest of it shadowed. “Then let me explain it to you using small words. We go to the club. We watch for suspicious activity. When we see someone acting dodgy we follow them out.”

“But what if they’re… I mean, what if they’re...”

“Spit it out, Snow.”

“There’re dodgy people at clubs who aren’t vampires, is all I’m saying. They’re not the only ones who might be willing to get up to dubious behaviour in a back alley, if you get my meaning.” My face is hot. I can feel the heat rush all the way up to my ears.

Merlin, this is fucking awkward.

I can tell as soon as he realizes what I mean. His mouth drops open and his eyes widen. He schools his face rapidly and drops his eyes, making a show of adjusting his cuffs. “Well, we’ll try to make sure we don’t interrupt anything . . .”

He trails off.

“Right. Good luck with that.”

He squares his shoulders then lifts his gaze up to mine, eyebrows lowered, eyes hooded. “I trust that I’ll be able to recognize the difference.”

“You’d have to be bloody psychic.”

“Trust me, Snow, I’ll have a better clue than you will!” There’s a harshness to his tone and a pained expression on his face.

And now I’m the one making a realization. He can sense them. Or at least he thinks he can.

Has Baz ever met another vampire? Other than the ones that Turned him? Not like he actually met them, of bloody course. Doubt they bothered with introductions first.

So I don’t know if he’s ever come face to face with one since and I don’t quite dare ask him right at the moment.

I’ve got to get through this night with him. Antagonizing him isn’t the way to do it.

I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. But I do know one thing--I’m not letting him out of my sight, not with other vampires around.

“Fine. I’ll trust you on this, Baz. But so help me, I do not want to stumble onto some randy couple getting it on in a back alley!”

I don’t particularly want to blunder into a vampire feeding on a victim either but at least I’d know what to do in that situation.

“Point taken, Snow. I’ll try to ferret out the blood-sucking versus the cock-sucking before your delicate sensibilities and virgin eyes are irrevocably sullied.” He stomps away, still managing to look effortless and graceful, while I scurry in his wake.

“You are such a fucking arsehole.”

I follow him across the street to the club and isn’t it just typical that he bypasses the regular line to queue up at the VIP entrance.

The bouncer greets him like an old friend. “Ah, seems like it’s been ages since you’ve been here.” He peers over Baz’s shoulder at me. “Not your regular company tonight, eh? The boys off for the holiday?”

The boys? Oh. He must mean Dev and Niall. Seems Baz keeps company with his minions even when he’s away from Watford.  

“Unavoidably detained in the country,” Baz drawls, then slips the guy a tenner as he sweeps past him, motioning for me to follow.

I’m gobsmacked.

Baz has practically admitted he’s a vampire, but somehow the revelation that he frequents dance clubs is harder for me to fathom at the moment.  

“Shut your mouth, Snow. It makes you look far too thirsty. And I don’t mean for a drink. Someone will be whisking you into a back alley, if you don’t watch yourself.”

I sputter for an instant but I’ve got to keep my wits about me, because Baz is already striding toward the bar and I don’t want to lose him in the press of people.

He’s back, drinks in hand a moment later. I take the one he passes me and eye the glass dubiously. “I don’t drink, you know.”

I get a raised eyebrow. “Good to know you’re so virtuous, Snow.” He takes a sip from his own and gestures at my glass. “It’s soda water and lime, you utter berk. I’m not about to let either of us get muddled tonight. We’ve got to keep our wits about us, challenging as that may be for you.”

I take a cautious sip and relief floods through me at the bland taste of the soda water. I swallow the whole thing down.

“You’re a barbarian, Snow, really.”

“I’m thirsty is all. Those samosas were a mite salty.”

“Well, I’m not about to go get you another drink. That’s all I need tonight, you skiving off to the lav right when things get interesting.”

“Piss off.”

I turn away from him and take a moment to look around the club. I’ve never been to one before. It’s not the kind of place for a care home day trip.

The music is loud, the bass beat so intense I can feel it thumping through my chest. It’s early in the night but there are still masses of people here, hovering near the bar, gathered around high tables, pressed against each other on the dance floor.

I can’t say it fits with what I imagined, but I’ve never really thought much about places like this either.

I can honestly say I never imagined Baz at a dance club. I’m still a bit staggered at the thought.

I’ve lived with Baz for over seven years and I’ve somehow managed to discover more about him in the last twenty-four hours than in all that time before.

It’s unexpected. Everything about the last few weeks has been.

I move closer to Baz, going up on tiptoe so I can reach his ear. I probably don’t even need to bother, what with his vampire super senses, but I do it anyway. “So you weren’t kidding when you said you hang out at places like this? On a regular basis?”

I can’t tell if it’s the glow of the lights or if his face gets flushed at my question. He doesn’t turn to look at me and he doesn’t answer right away. I bump his shoulder lightly with mine, to encourage him.

He tilts his head down, bending close to my ear. I can smell his posh shampoo when he does. His hair is falling forward a bit, not quite as pristine as it was a few hours ago. It tickles my cheek.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it regular,” Baz says. I don’t expect him to say more after that but he does. “It gets quite boring in Hampshire over the summer.” He pauses and then I feel his breath against my skin as he continues. “It’s just a lark. Dev, Niall and I come up for the night on occasion, have a few drinks, a few laughs, burn off some energy dancing. For fun.”

I think about that. I think about Baz doing something for fun. I don’t think I’ve ever really thought about Baz doing anything for entertainment--other than finding ways to humiliate or enrage me.

It makes me feel odd, to think of him here, standing under the flashing lights. Grinning at Dev and Niall, letting his face relax into something other than a sneer. Making his way to the dance floor, as graceful and fucking ruthless as he is on the pitch.

I can almost see it. See him swaying to the music, shirt partially unbuttoned, head tilted back, eyes closed as he moves to the beat.

It’s right warm in here.

I can feel a trickle of sweat trail its way down my back. I dart a glance at Baz, who looks as cool and collected as he did when we left Pitch Manor. He raises his glass to me and smirks.

My face heats up. I jiggle the ice in my glass and sip a few of the drops that have melted.

We stand, shoulder to shoulder, pressed together by the growing crush of bodies around us.

Everyone looks pale and washed out under these lights. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. I don’t even know what a normal vampire looks like. I mean maybe they’re like goblins—fit buggers? Posh and fit, like Baz?

I’ve got no idea.

I don’t have much time to think about it. There���s a bloke standing right in front of us, all wavy blonde hair and tight jeans, with his silky shirt half unbuttoned. He’s smiling but it’s not at me. He’s only got eyes for Baz. I can’t quite catch what he says but Baz gives him a polite smile and a shake of his head.

The bloke shrugs and walks away, turning his head to wink at Baz before disappearing into the masses of people on the dance floor.

I’m whirling in Baz’s direction as soon as the guy shoves off. “Did he . . . did he just hit on you?”

Baz gives me a side-long look, then leans down so I can hear him. “It’s a dance club, Snow. He asked me to dance. It’s what people do here.”

I’m still reeling from that when a girl sidles up to Baz and starts batting her eyelashes at him, twirling a strand of her dark hair with one finger and going up on tiptoe to make herself heard. It also makes her lean forward and flash a bit more of her cleavage in his direction.

He gives her the same smile he gave the bloke and the same shake of his head. She darts her eyes at me and then back to Baz before resting her hand on his forearm and nodding in my direction. He shakes his head again but his smile’s gone this time.

I wish I’d heard what she said to him. I hope she’s not going to turn around and talk to me now.

I needn’t have worried. She’s off a moment later, without a backward glance.

I scan the people around us, take in the bodies moving on the dance floor, and then I pause for a moment to really look at Baz. To take in the sight of him, as if I were seeing him for the first time.

As if I didn’t know what an absolute prick he is.

He’s striking, with his grey eyes and his shiny dark hair. That aristocratic nose (I’m likely the only one that can see the bump on it) (I put it there.)

How he carries himself, the set of his shoulders, so self-assured. The way the fabric of his suit clings to him, hugs every curve, accentuating his long legs, his slim yet powerful build.

He’s breathtaking, if you don’t know him, isn’t he?

Baz shifts, breaking my concentration. He gazes down at his watch and tilts his head at me. I can see his lips move, mouthing the words “let’s go.”

Seems it’s time to hunt down some vampires.

I almost regret it, when we leave the club.

For a moment I could forget the rest of it. For a moment we were just two blokes having a night on the town together.

Baz

I don’t know how many times I’ve come to these clubs to exorcise Simon Snow from my brain. I don’t know how many times I’ve danced with faded copies of him, in a vain attempt to pretend he’s the one with me.

I finally have him here, at a club, within easy reach. Steps away from the dance floor and inches away from my arms and it’s nothing like my fantasies.

We’re not here together. Not really. We’re not even here as friends.

We’re here hunting vampires.

We’re searching for clues about my mother’s killer.

We’re here because we’ve been forced into this uneasy detente.

No more than that.

I look at my watch. It’s early yet but I can’t stand being here any longer.

Not like this.

Not when I can feel every beat of his heart, every thrum of blood in his veins, the heat of his body next to mine.

I can’t even let myself look at him, for fear he’ll see the yearning in my face.

I bump him with my elbow, just to savor that one brief instant of contact.

His eyes meet mine. “Let’s go,” I say and then I turn away.

[starlightsearches]

Office Romance: Ch. 6 Incandescence

General Hux and Kylo Ren have found themselves competing for the affection of a lieutenant aboard the Finalizer.

Series Warnings: Language, some violence, near-death experiences.

Masterlist

The next morning, you headed straight for the coffee station in the officer’s lounge, pouring yourself the first of what you assumed would be many cups that day. While you were glad that you didn’t have your early training session with Ren to worry about, you were still low on sleep and were already looking forward to the end of your shift, when you could fall into bed and rest.

“Hope you enjoyed yourself, whore,” a voice called from behind you, one you recognized. Allecull. You turned to face him, careful not to let the sting of the insult show. He was sitting at the table with a few others, all of them glaring at you.

“What are you talking about, shit-stain?” you asked, moving towards the table. Allecull didn’t scare you, and his ridiculous taunts often served for great entertainment. Tired as you felt, it was always nice to take the major down a few pegs in a round of verbal sparring. At the same time, though, you felt a creeping nervousness inch over your body. Allecull was an asshole and a bit of a tyrant, but normally he criticized your work and abilities, not your personal life. You hoped he didn’t know about . . .

“I saw you leaving the general’s quarters last night,” another one of them spoke up, face warped with loathing, interrupting your train of thought. It was Lev Wintmal, one of the security officers. Shit. You had tried to be careful as you walked back to your own room, for this exact reason, taking less traveled corridors and checking around corners, but you had forgotten to be on the lookout for security droids or cameras. You schooled your face, knowing that if they saw even a hint of worry in your expression they would automatically assume guilt.

“You think I’m sleeping with the general?” you laughed, putting on an air of bravado. “Nice try, boys, but you don’t need to fuck your way to the top when you’re actually good at your job,” you paused for a moment before continuing, “and I don’t think it would work for you anyways. None of you seem like the general’s type.”

Allecull stood, grabbing your arm roughly. You threw his hand off, but faced him, his mouth twisted into a snarl.

“You little bitch-”

“As far as you know, Major,” you cut him off, your anger growing to match his, “I’m the general’s bitch now. Which means that you might want to be very careful about the words you say next.”

Allecull backed down, and for a moment, you felt you had won, until you realized that his eyes were on someone standing behind you. Don’t be the general, don’t be the general, please don’t be the general, you hoped silently before turning around. Captain Phasma was standing there, arms folded in front of her, towering over both you and Major Lindeas.

“A word, Lieutenant?” she asked, gesturing for you to follow. You walked with her out of the dining room and into the bustling mess hall, pure panic flooding through you. How much had she heard? Would she tell the general? You cursed yourself silently, wishing you had kept better control of your tongue.

You made it to Phasma’s office in silence, the guilt eating away at your nerves as the door closed behind you. She moved around her desk, taking a seat in her chair, all without speaking. It was more than you could bear.

“Captain, I-” you started, hoping to explain yourself, but she stopped you, holding up her hand for you to wait. And then, without warning, she reached up and removed her helmet from her head and set it down with a loud thunk on her desk.

In all the time you had worked with Phasma, over a year now, you had never seen her without her helmet, and for a moment, you were distracted from your fear as you took in her appearance. Her skin was pale and rosy; her features were softer and more gentle than you had expected—especially her eyes, which were large, blue, and framed by pale lashes. Her hair was light, whiter than her skin, and fell short and shaggy over her forehead and ears, uncombed and a little wild after being inside the helmet. She smiled expectantly at you, as if she just hadn’t done something totally insane, and gestured for you to take a seat.

“Captain, I’m really-” you tried once more as you sat down, but she once again cut you off with a wave of her hand.

“You don’t need to explain anything to me, Lieutenant.” Phasma always spoke with authority, but without the voice modulator, her voice sounded very nearly melodic. The whole situation was incredibly disorienting, especially after a sleepless night and an already difficult morning.

“I brought you here because I need to ask a favor, but given what just happened in the dining lounge I’d like to keep it private.”

“You’re not angry with me?” You asked, in disbelief. For as long as you had known her, you had looked up to the captain, and her approval meant too much to you for you to brush off the previous events so quickly.

“I, more than anyone aboard this ship, know what you go through, Lieutenant,” she responded, a fierceness in her gaze as she looked at you, “I chose to deal with it with my fists, and you fight back with words. As far as I’m concerned, you should defend yourself anyway you know how. We could use more women like you aboard.” Her praise hit you in the chest like a blaster shot, and you were too stunned to reply.

“Now, about this favor. There’s a gala tomorrow night for many of the First Order’s top officials, and I will not be able to attend with the general as I normally do. I would like you to go in my place.”

“I would be honored, captain, really, but,” you paused for a moment, unsure if you should bring up the conversation with Allecull again, “are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Of course I’m sure. This will give you an opportunity to meet more of the men in charge. And more importantly, they’ll get to meet you. These connections mean everything in our organization.” Her words were loaded with subtext and intrigue in ways that you couldn’t decipher, but you felt a thrill rise in your chest. You had never been to a gala before, and thinking about it now, you wanted to go, badly.

“Alright, Captain, if you insist,” you said, “but I don’t have anything to wear.”

Phasma smiled, her teeth brilliantly white behind pink lips. “I believe we can arrange something suitable.”

She didn’t want to show it, but Phasma was, frankly, exhausted. Not by you, of course, she enjoyed your company rather well. You were talented, capable, and always ready for a fight, which she admired immensely. But Hux’s obsession with you did tire her. For too long she had listened to him drone on and on about you, and she always gave the same advice. Stop being a bitch and do something about it. But the general continued to drag his feet, and now with Ren acting like a fool and Lindeas and his accusations, Phasma had decided to take matters into her own hands, for your sake, if no one else’s.

She led the way as the two of you walked. The Finalizer was large and often confusing to navigate, but there were many hidden resources for those familiar with the ship, and Phasma knew exactly where she was taking you. She stopped in front of a large hangar door and typed in her access code. The doors opened, and beside her, you gasped audibly at the sight.

The Wardrobe and Uniforms Department was one of the largest non-combative entities on the ship, and while Phasma had little use for the more entertaining services they provided, she did enjoy the view. The room was large, almost three stories, so deep that the back of it could not be seen from the doorway, and packed full of clothing. Large conveyors holding everything from tactical gear to nightgowns rose from the floor to the ceiling, taking up every inch of space in the enormous room. Phasma watched as you gingerly stepped through the doorway, taking it all in. A man sat at a small desk by the entrance, smiling expectantly as the two of you entered.

“Hello,” he said genially, “How can I assist you?”

“The lieutenant here is attending the gala tomorrow night and needs something to wear.” Phasma pushed you forward towards the desk as she spoke.

“Wonderful,” the man responded, grabbing his data pad from his desk and entering a series of commands. “What did you have in mind?”

“Where in the bloody stars is she?” Hux asked quietly to no one in particular, standing alone in the main hangar. A few workers puttered around, moving cargo or performing maintenance, and the general waited impatiently by the ship that was supposed to be taking him to the gala, which he was not looking forward to in the slightest. He was dressed in a simple suit made of rich black cashmere, and a stiff cotton button-down with terribly uncomfortable collar. He felt absolutely ridiculous, wishing that he could wear his uniform instead. At least that was something familiar. Comfortable, even, compared to this attire.

“The ship’s all ready, sir,” the pilot said, emerging from the loading area. Cas Kindi had been flying with the general for years, and, as of late, had acted as his personal pilot for events like these.

“The captain isn’t here yet,” Hux said, cooly, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead. He wanted a cigarette. Or to be in his quarters with a glass of wine. Wanted to be anywhere but where he was, doing anything besides what he was about to do.

Kindi started to reply, but was interrupted by the perplexing clack of high heels on the durasteel floors of the corridor. The pilot and the general turned simultaneously to see someone running towards them down the hallway, wearing a ballgown and looking frantic.

Sorry I’m late,” you said, stopping before them, out of breath, “I went to the wrong hangar.”

He knew he should say something, but Hux’s brain had shut down. You were in a sleeveless dress of burnished gold that sparkled, even in the dim light. It hugged tightly to your torso, with the neckline low, exposing the delicate skin above your chest, which heaved as you tried to catch your breath from your run. The skirt was voluminous, and fell to the floor in layers of flowing gold fabric that darkened towards the bottom until they were pitch black, shimmering like the night sky. Your hair was also adorned with stars, and swept back away from your face, with gently curling tendrils framing your kohl-lined eyes. Your lips were painted a dark cherry red, and Hux overcome with the desire to know what they tasted like.

“Did Phasma not tell you . . .?” you asked, your brow furrowed in confusion. Say something! Hux tried to form a sentence, but his eyes were still on your lips, and his mind was elsewhere right now.

“We were just waiting for her,” Kindi cut in, to Hux’s relief.

“She asked me to come in her place, actually. Did she really not mention it?” Your concerned expression deepened, and Kindi looked nervously to Hux, the two of you waiting for his response.

“She didn’t say anything,” Hux finally managed to choke out some words. He knew he should probably be angry at the captain for not telling him about her little plan, but that dress . . .

“Oh,” you responded, “well I don't want to impose . . .”

“Not at all!” Hux was talking too loudly, too eager. Get a hold of yourself. He took a deep breath, trying to slow the rapid, irregular beating of his heart, and offered you his arm.

“I’m sure the captain had good reason. If you please . . .“ you took Hux’s arm, smiling brightly, and he helped you up the loading ramp and onto the waiting ship. Kindi followed closely behind, and then edged her way around you on the way to the cockpit.

The transport ship provided by the First Order had a small, plush sitting area, full of poufy couches, and a low table set with two glasses and a bottle of champagne waiting to be poured. Normally, Hux and Phasma used this travel time to get a little drunk and bitch about these ridiculous parties and the Finalizer crew, but in this instance, Hux didn’t think that would be appropriate. Still, he opened and poured the champagne as you walked around the small ship, taking in your surroundings.

You reached for the glass he offered, and Hux watched as you took it, your hand shaking. His eyes met yours and you gave him a tight lipped smile, your anxiety written clearly on your face. He felt sympathy for your nerves, which echoed his own, even if they stemmed from different causes.

“Have you been to a gala like this before?” Hux asked, taking a seat on one of the couches. You followed suit, sitting down next to him, leaning your head back and breathing in deeply.

“The last event I attended was my own graduation. And that’s nothing compared to something like this.” The Academy threw a ball for the graduating class each year, but they were small and intimate affairs, especially when compared to the pomp and circumstance of a First Order gala.

“Would it help if we went over protocol for tonight?” Hux asked, and you nodded gratefully, sitting up and turning your full attention to him. This would be good for both of you, Hux decided. It would hopefully distract you from your worries, and maybe blathering about etiquette and procedures would take the general’s mind away from the idea of reaching out and brushing his fingers over the soft skin of your neck.

“These nights always begin with two separate cocktail receptions: one for the men and married couples, and another for women,” you snorted in distaste, but he continued, “And then the procession to the ballroom will begin. The Directorate and their wives will enter first, and then the single men, by order of rank. After, the women will be announced, ranked officers and then guests of the First Order, and then there will be the socializing, dining, and dancing. Do you remember how to greet other officers?”

“Offer my hand and curtsy to anyone above my rank, shake hands and bow to other lieutenants,” you repeated mechanically, the information drilled into you at the Academy quickly coming back. Hux nodded in confirmation before continuing his instruction.

“I’ll be your chaperone for the evening, as your commanding officer, which means that I’ll introduce you to the others during the social hour, and any invitations to dance will go through me first-”

“That’s sexist,” you interrupted, your declaration serious but your tone lighthearted. Your glass was empty, and it was evident that the drink had loosened your tongue and quieted your nerves. Hux was worried that he might have offended you, but your eyes were bright, with no trace of anger, the way you smiled at him made him feel like the two of you were sharing a secret.

“I agree,” he said, “absolutely ridiculous. You should hear the captain talk about it. She’s refused to participate in most of the bullshit—her word, not mine—and the Directorate is too frightened of her to correct her.”

You giggled at his mention of Phasma, as unfunny as it was; the wine had gone to your head. Hearing you laugh, Hux raised a rare smile in response. He wanted to try and make you laugh again.

“There is a benefit to the whole inane system, though. No one will find you rude if I’m the one refusing the proposals, of which I’m sure there will be plenty.”

“But who will you dance with, General, while I’m off with my many suitors?” You giggled, and then looked him in the eye, suddenly serious. Your faces were closer than they had been before, your expression soft. As he looked into your eyes, he was sure that his desire for you was written everywhere on him. As if on impulse, he leaned in closer, the air between you electric with his want.

The ship jolted as you jumped out of hyperspeed, interrupting your moment. Kindi came out of the cockpit, peering around the corner.

“Sorry to interrupt, General, but we’ve made it,” she said, and then left to steer the ship to landing.

The two of you stood, and Hux was struck with embarrassment for his brazen behavior. Had you noticed? It was hard to tell; he watched for signs of it as you smoothed your dress and checked your hair in the reflective surface of the wall. He could see that the talk of etiquette had not completely erased your nerves, and you adjusted your appearance with a meticulous eye for detail. Hux offered his arm to you again, and you looked at him gratefully, clinging to him with a forceful grip.The door opened, and the two of you stepped out of your ship and onto the loading platform.

For a moment, the light of it all was blinding.

[camillemontespan]

intoxicated thoughts [drake x camille] [2/2]

First part here if you want to catch up

This was meant to be a one shot but @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ said we needed to have a follow up! So here’s the follow up! I might do another one of these, like a trilogy, but I’ve promised myself to stop doing lots of series. But if you guys want another follow up, let me know because I do have ideas. 

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol abuse

I’ve taken events from TRR1 and changed them, made them better in my opinion (lol I’m kidding). 

@moonlightgem7 @jovialyouthmusic​ @ibldw-main​ @burnsoslow​ @sirbeepsalot​ @dcbbw​ @saivilo​ @pug-bitch​ @loveellamae​ @walkerswhiskeygirl​ @gardeningourmet​ @katedrakeohd​  @mskaneko​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​ @emichelle​

*******************************************************************************

Drake woke up bleary eyed. As his vision adjusted to the light of the room, he swallowed and gagged - his mouth tasted like something had died in there.

Turning his head, he realised he wasn't in his own bedroom. Wherever he was, it was not his private space.

What did I do last night?

The bedroom was clean and tidy. There was a dressing table with a make up stand om the surface and a purple dress hanging up against the wardrobe.

I'm in a woman's room. Oh god. Please don't be Madeleine, please don't be Madeleine..

He jumped when the bathroom door opened and out stepped Camille. She looked at him and gave him a weak smile.

'Hey Drake,' she greeted him. 'How are you feeling?'

Drake stared at her in horror.

I'm in Camille Montespan's bed. I have fucking woken up in her bed and I don't know how I got here.

'Um.. What am I doing here?' he croaked.

Camille sat down on the edge of the bed. 'You came to my door last night, hammered,' she told him. 'You said you had something important to tell me..'

Drake frowned then realisation dawned on him. Camille noted the haunted look on his face and reached out to touch his hand - Drake quickly moved it out of her reach. His mind was racing. He could remember now.

Fuck. I nearly blew it. I was gonna tell her i has feelings for her. Jesus Christ, I'm a fucking idiot. She's in a competition to marry my best friend and here I go, traipsing to her room to declare feelings. Shoot me now. Just fucking shoot me now.

Camille cleared her throat. 'Drake? You okay? Do you remember what you were going to tell me? It sounded serious.'

Drake shook his head fiercely. 'Nope,' he said simply. 'Can't remember Montespan. I was drunk. Probably was going to regale you about a new whiskey I'd found.'

He turned away, too embarrassed to look at her. He didn't notice the disappointed expression that passed over her face.

'Oh,' she muttered. 'Okay. You just seemed quite upset. Like you threw up -'

'I threw up?!' Drake cried. 'Aww man, Camille, I'm so sorry. Jesus. Was it bad? Was it really really bad?'

Camille shrugged. 'Nothing a deep clean couldn't fix.'

Drake turned bright red with mortification. He had thrown up in front of Camille Montespan. He had embarrassed himself.

Would Liam throw up in front of the woman he liked? Probably not since Liam rarely got drunk and was a gentleman. Liam didn't randomly show up in the night and proceed to vomit everywhere. Liam probably never vomited. But Drake Walker did.

What. A. Catch.

So we're leaving for Applewood in an hour..' Camille said delicately.

'FUCK, APPLEWOOD!' Drake shouted, bolting up in the bed. 'Gah, I need to get ready!'

He untangled himself from the bed covers and stood up, promptly slumping back down again. The room was spinning.

'Oh god..' He groaned, placing his head in his hands. 'Fuck my lifeeee....'

Camille handed him a glass of water which he gratefully took. Headache tablets soon followed.

'What happens at Applewood?' Camille asked him.

Drake closed his eyes. 'A lot of bullshit, Montespan. A weekend of never ending bullshit.'

Camille winced. 'Do you want to stay behind?'

Drake shook his head. 'No. I have to be there for you - I mean, Liam. I need to support him.'

Camille nodded. 'Well, you should probably get ready.'

Drake was preparing himself to stand up again when the door knocked. His eyes flew to Camille who held up a hand to reassure him. She padded over to open the door, making sure to shield Drake so the visitor wouldn't see him.

It was Bertrand and Maxwell.

'Little Blossom!' Maxwell trilled, his high voice piercing Drake's ears.

'Hey Max,' Camille said. 'Hi Bertrand.'

'Can we come in or are we not allowed to grace you with our presence?' Bertrand asked dryly.

Maxwell wrinkled his nose. 'I can smell sick..'

Drake wanted to die.

'Yeah I've been unwell,' Camille lied. 'Was sick last night, very disgusting -'

Okay, now Drake wanted to die.

Bertrand was instantly on high alert. 'Camille, you simply cannot be unwell for Applewood! This weekend is of vast importance, it could make or break your place in the competition!'

Camille waved a hand. 'I'm fine now.'

Bertrand instantly calmed down and went back to being collected and serious. 'Can we come in then?'

Camille, realising she had no choice, backed away to let the Beaumonts inside. Drake threw the duvet over him in a bid to hide but it didn't work. Maxwell clocked him.

'Drake?!' he squealed. 'Why are you in Camille's bed?'

Drake turned red. Camille closed her eyes, counting to ten, waiting for Bertrand to blow up.

Bertrand blew up in 3 seconds.

'Camille, what is the meaning of this?!' he thundered. 'Why is Drake Walker in your bed? Were you hiding him?! Why? What have you both done?'

Before Camille could protest, Drake dragged himself out of the bed and stood up, ignoring the spinning room. 'It's fine, Bertrand,' he said. 'Look, I'm fully clothed. I just got drunk last night and Camille looked after me. That's all.'

Bertrand narrowed his eyes and stalked over to Drake, examining him. 'Funny that you couldn't look after yourself in your own room..' He muttered.

He drew back and said grandly, 'Camille doesn't need any more distractions. She needs to focus on winning Liam's heart, do you understand?'

Drake nodded. Camille moved forward and stood beside Drake to defend him.

'Bertrand, he's my friend, not a distraction!' she protested. 'He was really unwell last night. It was my decision to look after him. I can assure you I'm prepared for this weekend -'

'You have another man in your bed!' Bertrand cried.

'Fully clothed!' Camille shot back. 'Nothing happened. And FYI, even if something did, I wouldn't tell you because it wouldn't be your business!'

Bertrand's lip curled. He moved closer to Camille and hissed, 'Miss Montespan. While you are in my care and representing my house, it is my business.'

Drake moved forward and stepped in front of Camille to face Bertrand. 'Don't talk to her that way,' he growled.

He felt Camille place her hand on his in an attempt to ground him.

Bertrand stepped back and gave Drake and Camille a simpering smile. 'Be ready in thirty minutes, Camille!' he told her. Camille nodded and took her dress to the bathroom so she could change.

When the door locked behind her, Bertrand was back in Drake's face.

'Do not ruin her chances,' he whispered, pointing in Drake's face. 'She is the Beaumont's only chance to save our reputation. Abandon any hopes you have that she will return your feelings -'

'I don't have feelings,' Drake lied.

Bertrand bulldozed through, ignoring his protests. 'Abandon the silly notion that she might return your feelings. It won't happen. She is the front runner in this competition. I'm not saying this to bring you down, Drake, I'm telling you this so you can face reality. If all goes well today, she will be the favourite and Liam will choose her in a few months. She will marry him. So stop ending up in her bedroom and stop defending her and stop acting like the lovesick puppy that you actually are. Just put your feelings in a box and accept reality. Can you do that?'

Drake thought of the whiskey bottle he used to ignore his feelings for Camille.

'Trust me, Bertrand,' he said coolly, 'I can do that.'

*********************************************

Horse riding.

That was the first activity the court had to take part in at Applewood. They were to ride along the cliff side, taking in the views and try to show off their best riding skills.

Drake instantly wished he could jump off the cliff and plunge to his much welcome death.

He shakily clambered onto the horse he was given and held the reins tight. As soon as he settled on the saddle, he knew this was a recipe for disaster. Hangovers and horses shouldn't mix.

His horse was called Rebel and he looked just as reluctant as Drake to begin the festivities. As Drake looked around, he could see Liam at the front astride his white horse, Prince. He was talking to Olivia who had sidled up to ride alongside him.

Camille and Hana were on their horses beside each other. While the other ladies had chosen to wear proper riding uniform, Camille, Drake noticed, had not.

Oh god. They're gonna eat you alive, kid, he thought to himself.

Camille was wearing jeans and a black vest top. To Drake, that was perfectly reasonable riding attire but then again, Drake never wore riding gear. But he knew the other suitors would be looking at Camille and judging her.

Bitches.

Liam signalled for the ride to begin. Drake held on to his horse, praying he wouldn't throw up again. He had a feeling Rebel wouldn't appreciate it.

For ten minutes, Drake concentrated hard on not falling off the horse.

He was actually a good rider which always surprised people. However today, his skills left a lot to be desired.

'Just go slow,' he whispered to Rebel. 'Nice and slow..'

'Hey Drake!'

He jumped at the sound of Camille's voice. He hadn't noticed that she had stopped riding so she could wait for him. Drake was at the very back of the group, depressingly so.

'Montespan,' he greeted her.

Camille began to ride alongside him. 'Meet Coconut,' she said, gesturing to her white horse. 'Isn't she pretty?'

Drake smiled. 'This is Rebel. He's not pretty. He's handsome.'

The horse wickered in response. Camille let out a surprised giggle. 'Drake Walker, are you joking with me?'

Drake rolled his eyes. 'I am capable of joking around, Montespan.'

Camille grinned and they rode together in comfortable silence until Drake broke it. For some reason, he always had to keep talking to her. With anyone else, he was happy not to talk. With Camille, not so much.

‘How come you’re riding with me?’ he asked. ‘You should be up near the front with Liam.’

Camille shrugged. ‘I don’t want to ride near Liam,’ she told him honestly. ‘Besides..’ she gave Drake some serious side eye. ‘Someone’s got to make sure you don’t fall off your horse.’ 

Drake smirked. ‘How kind of you.’

Camille stuck her tongue out at him before turning to look out over the horizon. Drake watched her for a moment, studying the way the sunlight hit her cheekbones, highlighting her skin. Her eyelashes cast long shadows across her face and the corner of her mouth was always upturned, as if she was always smiling. It was one detail Drake had noticed about her. He loved it. 

Camille caught him looking. Taken aback, Drake looked away hastily but in his flustering, he lost his grip and slipped to the side of his horse. 

‘Jesus, Drake!’ Camille shouted, catching him by the arm and hauling him back up. Drake turned bright red. Tomato red. 

‘Oops.’

Camille stared at him, aghast. ‘You realise I was joking about you falling off the horse, right? That wasn’t permission to start throwing yourself off it!’

‘You caught me by surprise!’ Drake protested. 

‘How?!’

‘I was looking at you and then you looked at me and it surprised me!’ Drake burst out, instantly regretting his admission. Camille pulled on Coconut’s reins to stop the horse from moving forward. 

There was a very awkward silence. 

‘You were looking at me?’ she asked. 

Drake looked down at his hands, then away to the view of the ocean below the cliff. He didn’t answer. 

Camille bit her lip and moved Coconut so she could move closer to Drake. 

‘Drake, why did you come to my room last night?’ she whispered. ‘You’re keeping something from me. Just be honest.’

‘I told you, I don’t know why I came to your room,’ Drake replied, his tone blunter than he intended. 

‘I think you’re lying,’ Camille said. 

‘Camille, why do you even care?’ Drake asked, losing patience. He didn’t like the third degree. He didn’t want to say something he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to be honest. It wasn’t the time to be honest. For one thing, he wasn’t drunk. Drunk Drake was more confident when it came to honesty. Sober Drake was considering suicide by cliffdiving. 

‘I care because you clearly got wasted last night and you turned up at my door and said we needed to talk!’ Camille burst out, exasperation filling her voice. ‘You looked really upset! I thought we were friends? I thought we could talk about things, you know? We talk when we go to dive bars and shit, so what’s the difference now? What’s bothering you so much? What is causing you to drink until 3am on a Wednesday night?’

Drake’s jaw set. 

You. You are the reason why I drink till 3am on a Wednesday night. 

But he didn’t say that. Instead, he jutted his chin out in the direction of the group who were now miles away from them. ‘You better catch up with the group or Bertrand will give you grief,’ he told her, his voice cold. ‘God forbid his reputation goes down the drain because you couldn’t perform well at a riding event.’ 

Camille narrowed her eyes. Drake was surprised when she leaned close, her nose practically touching his. ‘I knew Bertrand upset you,’ she hissed. ‘But just know that those are his thoughts, not mine.’

Drake blanched at her sudden fierceness. Camille drew back and kicked Coconut gently in the sides, telling the horse to go. Drake watched her ride off to join the rest of the group, leaving him feeling sick in his stomach and this time, not from alcohol.

***************************************************************

Best way to cure a hangover is hair of the dog. 

Double measure of whiskey. Yes, delicious. 

I couldn’t sleep again tonight. Why? Funnily enough, because of you. For once, it wasn’t because I dreamt of you, oh no. I haven’t even been to sleep, Camille. I’ve laid awake for four hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking about our last exchange, wishing I had just thrown myself off the fucking cliff before I even got on that damn horse. 

I’ve never seen you angry before. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I just got scared.  I felt cornered and I didn’t want to be honest with you because it wasn’t the right time.

It’s never the right time. For one thing, you’re in a competition to marry my best friend and you’ll probably marry him which means it will never be the right time to tell you how I feel. 

You make me smile. Like, I feel happy when I hang out with you. I felt happy riding our horses together today until I ruined it. I could’ve done without the hangover but in a way, your presence made it easier for me.

You watch out for me. You have my back. When I was at the back of the riding group, clearly suffering, you waited for me and kept me company. Was it pity? Or are you just a good person? The world could do with more good people so I sincerely hope it’s the latter. Also I’d hate for you to pity me.

See, I act like I don’t give a fuck about what people think of me but I do. I suppose when I was younger, I didn’t care, but as soon as my dad died, sister left, mom left.. Well, I started to think it was me. Like it was my fault. That nobody wanted to be near me.  Then the other courtiers act like I’m the shit on their shoe and I started to believe it. 

Pathetic, huh?

Another drink…

So, when I start hanging out with you, I want you to like me. But in the back of my mind, I keep thinking you’ll leave. Or you’ll choose to be with Liam. Why would you reject a prince for a pauper? Exactly. You wouldn’t. Nobody would. 

Camille, I expect you to leave me at some point because that’s what everyone else does. 

Why set myself up for disappointment?

Another drink.. Damn, I’m running out of this bottle..

**********************************************************

Continuing with my self loathing… I have walls. I know I do. I hate myself for it. But walls protect you, that’s the point. In this court, it’s every man for himself and I’ve learned the hard way not to trust anyone. 

I can look after myself. 

But sometimes, it’s nice to think I don’t have to just be alone. I like to think we’re friends. I like to think we could be more than that. In my dreams of you, you sometimes leave the suitor competition.  Other times, you marry me. It’s ridiculous, I know. 

I’m only human, Camille.

We all just want to be a little less lonely. 

***************************************************

Whiskey is the best motherfuckin’ drink on the planet.  

Dad used to drink it all the time. Can totally see why. 

But I’ve run out of this bottle now so I’mma look around for another. I’ve got one somewhere, sure of it.

**************************************************

Jesus, this bottle is fucking dusty. 

Double measure please. Block out all thoughts of Camille. No, Walker, don’t even think of her name no matter how damn pretty it is, DON’T THINK IT.

Camille, you so pretty. I love your eyes. They’re brown with gold flecks, like an owl. Have you noticed that? I think they’re astonishing. I KNOW. Isn’t that the best word to describe your eyes? Astonishing! 

I’d love to look into your eyes and tell you that but that would be weird and creepy so I’ll just settle for thinking about them.

I miss you.

I’m sorry we argued. I’m an asshole. I’m the shit on your shoe. I don’t deserve your friendship. Fuck, I actually don’t want us to be friends, I want us to be more than that! I want to be able to call you my girlfriend and go on proper dates with you and kiss you and tell you everyday how beautiful I think you are, inside and out, and how I love your laugh and I love your smile and I love the smell of your hair and I love how kind you are and funny and cute..

I miss you.

*************************************************

Camille earmarked her book and set it down so she could open the door. Glancing at the clock, she could see it was midnight. See if it was Bertrand coming to shout at her for looking after Drake, he had another thing coming.

It was Drake.

Clearly, he hadn’t learned his lesson from the night before. His eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed. He looked drunk. He smelled of whiskey. 

‘Drake, come on..’ Camille chastised him. ‘Again?’

Drake’s shoulders slumped and he turned to go. Feeling guilty, Camille reached out to take his arm and guided him into the bedroom. She gently sat him down on the edge of the bed and kneeled down so she could look him in the eyes properly.

‘Drake,’ she whispered. ‘Talk to me. What’s bothering you?’

Drake’s eyes welled up with tears. Shocked at this uncharacteristic reaction, Camille reached out to pull him into her and wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘Shhh..’ she soothed him. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled against the crook of her neck. ‘I’m sorry. I was an asshole earlier.’

Camille shook her head. ‘No, I was.’

She wiped his wet cheeks and looked him in the eyes again. He smiled sadly. ‘Your.. your eyes look like an owl’s,’ he whispered. ‘They’re astonishing.’

Camille blinked but her surprise soon faded and she smiled softly. ‘Your eyes are astonishing too, Drake. You know in some lights, they turn a different colour?’ 

Drake chuckled. ‘I.. I didn’t know that.’

Camille grinned. ‘Well, now you do.’

********************************************************

They spent the next hour curled up under the duvet. Drake, still half-drunk, let his arm fall around her shoulders as she sat propped up against him, reading her book. Sometimes, she would laugh and Drake would ask what was funny so she would read out a sentence or two. 

They didn’t comment on how intimate this was.

Tomorrow, they would continue as normal, playing their parts at Applewood. Camille would pretend to be a suitor wanting to marry Liam. Drake would pretend to be the best friend doing Liam a favour by hanging out with her.  They each had a script to follow. They could slip into these roles like putting on a coat.  They could just as easily take the coat off. 

As Camille read aloud and Drake listened, he realised in his drunken haze that this was like one of his dreams. Except, this time, it was reality.

[notspoondere]

The Mechanical Flavor of the World Legacy Characters

[This blog post discusses “flavor” with respect to the card design in Yu-Gi-Oh!. If you’re not already familiar with this term, it’s captured pretty well in this article by Mark Rosewater. Just keep in mind that flavor may also describe card effects.

Also, all of the images embedded in this post can be viewed full-size here.]

With the printing of Girsu, the Mekk-Knight Orcust in Eternity Code and the full spoiler of Rise of the Duelist, it is looking more and more likely that we’ve reached the end of the World Legacy storyline. It’s possible that new story-focused cards for these archetypes will be printed in the future, but it’s probably going to take a backseat to functional legacy support, similar to what happened with the Duel Terminal archetypes that received support in the Link VRAINS sets. As a result, I figure this is a good time to talk about their overall design and point out what I feel is its biggest success over Duel Terminal: flavorful designs.

To illustrate this difference, let’s consider a pretty key player in the Duel Terminal storyline and keep track of his effects as he changes forms throughout the story. (Consult the translations for Master Guide 4 if you’d like evidence that the first three monsters all portray the same character.)

We can see a pretty linear increase in stats from Sentinel to Roach, and he has a theme of caring about level 5 or higher monsters. This gets a pretty nice followup, becoming a Vanity’s Fiend for lv5 or higher monsters in... Evilswarm Ophion, which is a totally different card not present on this chart, because the powers of the Sacred Tree let him nuke the field instead!!

He then inherits the powers of Sophia and ends up weaker because Exciton got banned. Bravo. (It’s worth mentioning that the original form of Ophion, Gungnir, Dragon of the Ice Barrier, has a completely unrelated effect of discarding cards to destroy cards, and Evilswarm Bahamut steals monsters instead of bouncing cards like Brionac, but Evilswarm Ouroboros at least tries to approximate Trishula.)

Can you see the problem? I was going to make another image showing this off until I realized that following Gem Knight Lazuli all the way through Construct’s various forms would take way too much horizontal space, but feel free to construct an explanation in your head for why combining Apoqliphort Towers (the real one) with El Shaddoll Construct (foolish a Shaddoll/Catastor eff) makes Shekhinaga (Divine Wrath on a fusion) or why adding in Infernoid Devyaty (wipes backrow, also tributes to negate a monster) and some ice turns that combo into Anoyatyllis (Konami said fuck Nekroz). It’s because these cards are either not designed for flavor, or are designed around the flavor of their archetypes rather than that of their characters, so the characters in general have a pretty weak identity.

You could maybe say that’s because Duel Terminal is a grand-scale war story, so none of the characters are meant to stick out. That would make sense, sort of, so what about stories with fewer characters that change forms multiple times? The Dracoslayer lore did that.

I’m not typing out all of what Master Peace 2 does, but in case you weren’t around from May 2017-2018, you can read that here. He’s a Wyrm because all the True Dracos are, except his previous form wasn’t, except all of them probably could have been without hurting their chances of seeing play (until we got Guardragons Elpy and Agarpain).

The sole thing that ties all of these cards together is that they supposedly feature the same character, and all have effects that destroy cards. They have about twice as many differences. Master and Luster are both Pendulums, while the other two aren’t. Master Peace 1 is a Special Summon by Tributing, but Master Peace 2 requires a Tribute Summon to gain effects. Master Peace 1 has a negate, for some reason, even though none of the other forms have it, so if he gained it from the Dracoverlord tributed for his summon (these are his enemies, by the way), then he apparently forgot it by the time he reappeared in the story. Speaking of which...

In the lore, he essentially aids three tribes (Majespecter/Dinomist/Igknight) trying to fight off the Amorphages, and the Extra Deck Dracoslayers represent their powers combined. True Dracos exist because, in a totally different world, three completely different tribes (Zoodiac/Crystron/Metalfoes) are being assailed by the True Kings. They form a summoning circle (Dragonic Diagram) to summon him for help, and he accepts the power of the other True Dracos or something. The other True Dracos (who are also based off of the first three archetypes, like the Dracoslayer extra deck... for some reason) are disciples of Mariamne, the True Dracophoenix, who mechanically is a True King and shares minimal synergy with any of these cards, and the one who seemingly gets things done is Metaltron XII, the True Dracocombatant, who probably is just the three tribes’ power combined. Who also gets protection from effects by being Tribute Summoned and also floats into anything from the Extra Deck that isn’t LIGHT/DARK. And Konami says he’s a Zefra now. And who the fuck is Dreiath III supposed to be? He’s not even good?

I have many problems with True Draco. Anyways, let’s get to the point. (Nin/Long/Din)Girsu’s character arc, as shown through monster cards in the World Legacy story, is much more internally consistent.

Let’s assume that Girsu, the Orcust Mekk-Knight is a de-powered form from after the battle inside the World Gears (presumably he lent this power to Avramax, though this isn’t shown in the artwork; also, he has Ib’s ribbon on his arm). It’s understandable why the maindeck cards and extra deck cards should do something different, and the first maindeck monster is a vanilla anyways, so I wouldn’t consider it that bad of a break. No idea why he’s a Mekk-Knight though.

These effects form a pretty clear pattern. Girsu here sends things to the GY without targeting them and eventually gains protection effects as he grows in power. His ultimate form is the only one that lets him protect other cards, which is maybe a statement on his goals given how long he spent trying to revive his dead sister, and if that holds water, Mekk-Knight Orcust Girsu is evidence of his eventual success. After all, this card by itself can summon every single one of Ib’s forms except her vanilla and Knightmare incarnations.

That is to say, we gain a bit of understanding of Girsu’s abilities, goals, and bond with his sister through the mechanics of his cards, and if you don’t think that’s the tightest shit, well, I just made you read nearly 1k words on why it is. Better yet, there’s more:

Auram’s extra deck incarnations all have ATK-boosting effects, and his World Chalice form translates him getting more powerful with the World Legacies. Both Blademaster and Crusadia Equimax activate effects by tributing monsters they point to, suggesting how he calls upon his allies for help--there’s a reason Ningirsu went off and ended up with a bunch of brass instruments as his only company while Avram wandered the world with his best friend (who is a fucking dragon) and scored himself a choice elf harem. They call him King because he wears the crown, you see?

On the topic of Crusadia, let’s take a closer look at how Equimax is typically summoned. Typically you’ll try to get a Normal Summon on board, hope it sticks to make Magius, summon again to search Draco, and build your way up with Crusadia monsters to make Equimax. Afterwards you’ll want to boost his damage with the effect of Maximus, summon a large monster to one of his zones, or buff him with the spell you searched off of Regulex. Any two Crusadia monsters with different names can do most/all of this, so think of it as an “all your powers combined” thing a-la Metaltron XII, except executed much better.

(Sidebar: If you’re willing to entertain a bit of theory, the Crusadia maindeck is the epitome of a successful flavorful archetype design. Pretty much every Crusadia list maxes out on every monster in the main because they’re all interchangeable, even though they all have different effects. You could argue that Draco and Reclusia are way better monsters than Leonis, but fundamentally it doesn’t matter; you need two of them and it doesn’t matter which two. This lends them a sense of uniformity without erasing their uniqueness, which suggests that the Crusadia are an army of equals and Maximus may be the leader “de facto”. I highlight this because World Chalice tried to do the same thing, except that deck eventually cut its normal monsters down to a single copy of Chosen, and nobody ever played Crowned.)

Meanwhile, Avramax sports his ultimate ATK-boosting effect, protects other monsters from attacks, is immune to targeting (these two might seem out of line, but they’re upgrades of the protection effects that the previous two Mekk-Knight Link Monsters have), and non-target shuffles a card if he dies.

This is where I’d like to shift the direction of this discussion towards power levels and, implicitly, gameplay balance. Yes, I’m about to get into a powerlevel discussion about fictional characters portrayed on Yu-Gi-Oh! cards which have actual power levels, but hear me out.

Based on their original incarnations, Auram is ostensibly the main character, but strictly weaker than Girsu. Both have 0 DEF as Normal Monsters and Girsu has an extra Level and 200 ATK over him. With the power of the Chalice, Auram can revive allies and potentially gain more ATK than Girsu, but there were hardly even 5 World Legacy cards in the game at that point, and Ningirsu actually has removal. Later on, World Legacy’s Nightmare shows Girsu holding his own versus all of the Knightmares, but when it comes down to the climax of that arc, Avram inherits the power of Mekk-Knight Blue Sky and promptly gets overpowered by Iblee anyways, leading to Ib’s death and the scattering of the party (He is also still weaker than Ningirsu here). Auram and Girsu end up at odds several years later as Crusadia Equimax and Longirsu, the Orcust Orchestrator. If you look at the way these two cards might interact as enemies, it tells us a lot about this matchup: Equimax doesn’t start with enough ATK to hit over Longirsu, and Longirsu seems to have the upper hand thanks to removal, but with the power of friendship, Equimax can safely negate Longirsu’s effect and even swing over him. Finally, as Dingirsu and Avramax, Dingirsu loses or goes even at best: Dingirsu sends Avramax to GY, Avramax spins Dingirsu when he dies, both parties end up with nothing. Keep in mind that Avramax no longer needs support from allies to do this and Dingirsu absolutely cannot swing over Avramax at any point in time, so if the resource game isn’t in consideration, these cards will either trade or Avramax will always win.

That’s a cool interaction, but why did I bring up card balance? This interaction was only uncommon in tournament play because Orcust was an insanely popular deck. Playing Salamangreat, I’d regularly make Avramax versus Sky Striker and expect it to stick for a while, but versus Orcust? That boy would be gone in a second, and I’d rather not commit a link-4 worth of material to have a monster die and only get to spin a card. Keep in mind that going card-for-card is maybe not always favorable for the player.

What I mean to say is, Avramax would be a pretty insane card in a format without Nin/Long/Dingirsu’s non targeting removal. Consider the following scenario: Girsu’s extra deck forms do not exist. You are going second versus old Danger! Thunder playing the Trishula fusion. They half combo you, ending on something like Colossus + Avramax made with I:P Masquerena, and in doing so, banish the Borreload out of your extra. Do you even play a card that can out an Avramax otherwise? Probably not. Avramax could have put us into another Dark Destroyer format where targeting sucks, but Girsu kept us safe.

If anything, I hope R&D puts this level of thought into their flavor moving forward. World Legacy was a pretty big success on most fronts and I’d like to see what they do going foward in the next OCG series.

Thanks for reading. This is my first time writing about the game from a non-competitive perspective, so let me know how I did.

[sweeetie-demon-blog]

Save Me // Clouis

❌TW❌: It’s very angsty and includes self loathing. If you don’t feel comfortable with subjects like this, please do not read! 🌿🌿

Description: Louis was having a bad day, until he meets a new girl.

I’m really proud of this, I may make it into a whole fic.

———-

A delinquent, a fuck up. Nothing but a waste of space. That’s what he’s been told his whole damn life, he’s sick of it. Nobody got to know the true him, the person he was behind all the shit he did. In all honesty, he doesn’t really know why he does what he does. Maybe making stupid jokes and flirting with whoever he wanted was a cover for his low self esteem, his confidence. And maybe smashing things and disrupting class was a cry for help. He wanted for someone to come along and ask him what the hell he’s doing. Not even his best friend knew why he does all that.

He sighed, here he was, laying in an empty room with his music turned all the way up. He hated this time of day. He would be here for hours while his best friend Marlon was out practicing football. Some may say that the teen was perfect for the theater club, but he tried that. Guess no one can take a joke in that class. So that left the seventeen year old boy alone with his thoughts for hours on end, while his loud rock music tried to drown the things he kept replaying in his head.

The teen still couldn’t believe his parents sent him to this fucking boarding school, without trying to ask him what was wrong. They were always so serious, so uptight. Always wanted to be the best. It wasn’t his fault that he liked rock music and ripped jeans, not those dumb sweater vests his father would make him wear. He wanted to break from that mold, wanted to be his own person without his parents demands and yelling. But it only made him sadder. His parents completely changed their views on him the day he said he didn’t want to wear all that fancy clothes, and wanted to dress however he liked. His father had given him the coldest stare, yelling at the boy that the only way he was going to get a good job was by dressing professional. And he snapped when the boy argued about how he didn’t want to be a lawyer, how he didn’t want to carry on his father’s work.

He still remembers the disappointment written on their faces. It wasn’t the same after that. His parents had become stricter with him, hoping to change the unacceptable behavior.

“You’re grades are slipping Louis!”

“I’m trying my best! I had to go retake several tests, then I had piano practice after that. I didn’t have time to go meet my tutor. I’m sorry.”

“Do you really think piano is necessary? You won’t go anywhere playing that dumb thing. I can’t believe we spent all that money for a top of the line tutor for you to ditch it for some stupid instrument.” His mother stormed out of the room.

“I need some fun in my life too.”

He shook his head. He hates remembering the those times. He moved to his bed, slamming his body harshly on the mattress. The teen covered his face with an arm while his other arm dangled off the bed. He layed there, singing along softly to some song that played in the background. But, then the music got lower, causing Louis to uncover his face.

“Sorry dude, I thought you were asleep.” Marlon set his football helmet on the desk next to the bed. He was still dressed in his football gear, too lazy to use the locker room.

“Turn it back up.” Louis covered his face again, not even looking at Marlon as he did. Marlon wasn’t too surprised when his friend didn’t want to talk. He’s been like this since they met. It was a little confusing for him at first. Louis was basically the class clown of every class, a flirt that seemed to have so much confidence. But when he got bunked with the boy, he realized there was much more to this guy than he thought. Marlon did what he was told and sat next to his friend.

“Wanna talk about it?” He nudged Louis’s leg. Marlon had never gotten him to truly spill his feelings, he wouldn’t be surprised if his friend didn’t want to talk about it, but he had hope.

“Do you think my parents hate me?” Woah, that was a first. Usually he would say something like “I’m just down, I’ll get over it” or “just thinking too much.” But this. Marlon was a little worried about his friend. Was he actually going to spill his feelings?

“I’m sure they don’t buddy.”

“Why did they send me here then? Why did they tell me everything I did was wrong? Why didn’t they consider my feelings? They never did! Not one fucking time!” Louis snapped, tears forming in his eyes. “Get better grades Louis! No piano, no phone, no friends Louis! Be like you’re dad Louis! Why can’t you do anything fucking right Louis!” Tears began to fall from his face as he punched the the wall on the side of his bed. Marlon got up in shock, stopping his friend from trying to hurt himself.

“Woah woah woah, hey, dude. Calm down, breathe.” Louis instantly regretted his decision of punching the wall and latched onto his friend. He wrapped his arms around Marlon tightly.

“Marlon it’s too much, I’ve held it in for too long. I’m fucking sorry I did that, I couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore.” He sniffled, leaning his head on his best friend’s shoulder. The teen sighed sympathetically and began to rub his back.

“Dude, that was, uh, that was something else. I didn’t think you were hurting that much.” He hugged him tighter. “I’m glad to know that you got it all out though.” Marlon held Louis in a tight embrace. They never hugged, which made this a little weird, but his best friend needed this right now. The blonde teen was the first one to let go. “Hey why don’t we go for for a walk? You can show me that song you’re writing. Yeah?” He smiled hopefully.

“Fuck it. Beats sitting here and crying right?” Louis chuckled weaking, not wanting to meet Marlon’s gaze.

“Cool, let me change outta this shit and we’ll get going.”

———-

The two teens walked around the campus of their school. It was mid-November, the breeze making trees sway and leaves dance in the wind. Marlon had gotten rid of his dirty uniform, settling for simple dark blue jeans and his letterman jacket with the schools logo. Louis was dressed in black ripped jeans with a dark green bomber jacket. They sat at a nearby bench in the middle of an grassy field, just people watching.

The dreaded hair teen spotted a girl walking by. Her face was carved into an angry expression. Guess someone pissed her off. The blonde saw him eyeing the girl, nudging his friend slightly.

“Ooh, checking her out?” Marlon wiggled his eyebrows. Louis huffed.

“Uh, yeah man. Who is that anyways. Never seen that face before.”

“She’s new. I saw her during practice, think she has anger issues.”

“Hm.”

They both made their way to the music room. This was always a happy place for Louis, music never failed to sooth his soul. Louis sat at the bench while Marlon leaned against the grand piano.

“And here we have the music room- oh! I’m sorry.” Both Louis and Marlon turned at the sudden voice. “Sorry, didn’t know someone was in here. I’m just showing our new student around the school.” It was a brunette girl, her personality too cheerful, and next to her was that girl Louis had saw outside.

“It’s cool, was just gonna play something.” Louis cracked his knuckles before playing the soft tune. The piano echoing off the walls of the empty room. The two girls left the room, most likely continuing with the rest of the tour. Marlon looked back at his friend, he could see tears forming in his eyes again. He loved seeing the passion coursing through him when he played. There was always so much love and feeling in his music. The blonde hated seeing his friend so broken. He never realized how much he bottled up until today, when he poured his soul out. The song ended. Louis was sadly smiling as he wiped a few stray tears away.

“Dude, you’re awesome. I always loved hearing you play.”

“Thanks man, I am the greatest aren’t I? Marlon smirked.

"Hey there’s my buddy, I was wondering when he’d get back.”

“Oh ya know, he was crying his eyes out, like a true man.”

“You weirdo.”

Marlon pulled up a chair next to the piano. He watched as Louis played a number of songs. He cracked a few bad jokes everytime he missed a key, which made Marlon chuckle everytime. It was nearing sunset time, the golden rays shining through the window and into the room. All the students had a set curfew which was 9:00, which meant they had about 4 hours left before bed.

Louis had stopped playing for a bit to relax his fingers, and that’s when they heard squeaky footsteps from the hall. Marlon raised a brow in confusion. Usually the arts building was empty at this time. The blonde saw a head poke in the room.

It was that girl from earlier.

“Uh hey, I’m Clementine. Sorry to interrupt, I kinda wanted to wander around and heard the piano.”

“No problem Clementine, I’m Marlon. Come sit.” The short girl made her way to the boys on the other side of the room.

“Why hello there Clementine, I’m Louis. The one playing the amazing music. So pleased to meet you.” Louis winked, turning on his flirtatious side. She rolled her eyes but giggled anyways. She took the moment to study his person. Clementine was a little confused at the teen. He seemed to look like a tough guy, his ripped jeans and messily tied converse. His bomber jacket with various rude looking patches, yet he was playing the piano with such grace.

“Can’t stop looking at my handsome face already? Wow.” Marlon snorted as Louis tried to work his charm with this girl.

“You’re just confusing.” She huffed. This guy was kinda getting on her nerves. “You look like this super tough guy, but here you are playing the piano. At first glance, I’d assume you’d like playing the electric guitar or something.” Clementine said.

“Well you’re wrong. I love piano more than anything.”

Louis began to play the ivory keys again, Clementine watched as he played without missing any notes. Marlon smiled, looks like his friend’s day was getting a bit better.

“Hey Lou, I’m heading out. I think I forgot something in my locker.” The blonde get up but not before winking to his friend.

“Oh you did huh.”

“Yeah, actually why don’t you stay here and give Clementine some company?”

“Mar-”

“Great! See ya buddy.” And with that he walked off. Louis sighed. He may be a flirt, but he had zero self confidence. He had no idea what was going to happen.

“What was that about?” Clementine had a stone faced look, one Louis couldn’t really read.

“No idea.” He began playing a random tune. The teen closed his eyes, feeling the sound echo through his soul. God how he loved this dear instrument. He began to feel the passion in his veins as he played the unknown tune, his fingers moving to the low keys before dramatically stopping and playing a new chord. He could go on for hours playing this random thing he came up with, until he was startled out of his trance by a hand running up his sleeve.

“Woah dude, don’t do that.” Louis shook his head.

“Sorry, I was looking at your patches.” Clementine said, eyeing the ones on his sleeve.

“You don’t have to touch them ya know.” She ignored his comment. “You like iron maiden?” The girl poked the patch near his shoulder. “Doesn’t that seem a little too metal for you?”

Louis snorted. “As if! I can handle metal music, thank you. In fact I should be the one surprised here. How do you even know it’s a metal band?” The dreaded haired teen crossed his arms and had an eyebrow raised.

“Uh I don’t know genius, maybe cause I listen to the same type of stuff?” She rolled her eyes in his direction again.

“Wow, a sweet looking girl like you? Wearing pink and sporting pigtails. Who knew?” Louis winked, causing her to blush. It was strange for her to blush at something a boy had said to her. Maybe that could change, she thought.

“Well maybe we can listen to metal music together some time.” Clementine blushed even more.

“I’d like that.”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

SCSI

Sighing to himself, Eren was nervous. Levi had finally decided he was healthy enough to return to the castle, so the dream they'd spent the last two months in was now coming to an end. He'd packed all things the night before, and now he was waiting for Levi finish bringing in the washing. Since his heat had finished, they'd barely touched, in fact, the teen was wondering if the week had even happened. Levi had returned to sleeping on the couch downstairs, while Eren was left alone in the bed that now felt too big for just him. He missed the feeling of holding him, of waking up in his arms and feeling safe. Stupid nightmares had come back, now of Levi tearing his throat out and leaving him bleeding to death with the man laughed. He didn't want to be too clingy, but he desperately wanted Levi to wrap his arms around him again. Sitting on his bed, Eren had his face in his hands. His hormones still hadn't calmed back down from his heat, so maybe it was best they were apart? If Levi saw him crying like this, he'd think he was pathetic. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't even realise the man was now in the room, a frown of worry across his thin lips. Padding lightly over to him, his partner squatted down, taking him by his hands as he pulled them from his face "Hey brat" "S-sir..." He couldn't stop himself. As Levi pulled his arms around him, Eren hands left his and grabbed the back of the man's jacket "Want to tell me what's up?" "I'm sorry. After a heat, I feel so upset and clingy. I know you don't like that kind of thing, so I tried to hide it" "You mentioned it before... I thought you wanted space because you didn't ask me to stay" "I thought you didn't want me anymore... I'm so stupid" "You're not stupid. And I still want you. It's been hard sleeping down there while you're up here" "Then why didn't you come up?" "Because I didn't want to make you feel pressured or forced" "It sucked! I can't even fucking sleep! I kept thinking you regretted everything!" Wailing against Levi's neck, the man pulled him from the bed so he had now straddling his lap "I don't regret it. I don't regret this. I know things are all over the place, but I made up my mind. I asked you stay with me... I never meant to hurt you" "I know. It's my stupid hormones. I feel like I can't calm down" "And me giving you space didn't help that" "N-no" "I'm here now. Things might be a little hard when we get back to the castle, but no matter what anyone says, I'll protect you" "I don't want to be protected. I want to be able to stand on my own two feet" "Oh, so you're looking forward to telling Erwin" Eren shot up, his eyes wide "We can't tell him!" "Why not?" "Because he hates me. He hates me so much" "He doesn't hate you" Oh. Right. Levi didn't know what Erwin had said to him, and to Levi, Erwin was an important friend "He... he doesn't like me and I don't want to make things hard. Not what you're finally going back to work" "Just let me handle Shitty Eyebrows. I'll make him listen" "I don't want him to know..." "Eren, there's every chance he and Hanji said us here with the intention of us getting together. You know that, don't you?" "I'm not so sure... Erwin, he loves you. He loves you so much. He's going to be so mad" "You don't need to worry about that. You're the one I want to be with. You. Even if your stubborn and hot headed, I want to see where this goes" "Even if I'm a monster?" "We're both monsters then. But it's going to be ok. You're not alone, Eren" "I just don't want anyone else to be upset or angry. I'm so tired of fighting and being angry" "I know you are. Now, what did you mean about not being able to sleep?" Eren's face reddened "Brat?" "I... I have nightmares" "I know. I've seen them up close" "I've been having them the last few nights" "What they about?" "You... it's stupid, but I don't feel safe" "Don't you trust me to protect you?" "How? How can you protect me from myself?" "I don't know, but it'll all be ok. I promise you that" Sniffling, Eren lowered his forehead to rest on Levi's shoulder. His mate rubbing back in soft circles "If you're not up for leaving today, we can go tomorrow" "No... I'll be ok" "Are you sure? We'll be wearing our full uniforms" "I'll be ok. I feel better now" "Better?" "I was... you make me feel better" "In that case, let get that filthy face of yours cleaned up" Snorting, the teen nodded again "Yeah. Just... don't be surprised if I start crying for now reason. I can't seem to stop myself" "I'll try my hardest not to yell at you" "Yelling is ok. Just ignore it. I'll be ok" "Oh, so you like it when I yell at you?" "Not all the time" "Shitty brat" Tentatively moving to kiss Levi, he was stupidly ecstatic when the man kissed him back. He knew Levi said they'd work it out, and that he'd protect him, but Levi was just one man and he was the man Erwin was in love with. He didn't see their commander openly accepting a relationship like this, neither would the Government... being with Levi was dangerous for both of them, but fuck. He wanted to believe something would finally go right and that he'd finally be happy. He just wanted to believe Levi and let his mate protect him, just like he'd promised. An hour later they set out. Their horses were back at the castle with Hanji, the same with the supply cart, so they making the journey by way of foot and manoeuvre gear. He'd offered to shift to a Lycan and carry Levi for as far as he could, but his partner had told him to save his strength in case they needed it. So now he was suffering miniature heart attacks each time Levi fired his anchors. He knew how much stress it had to be placing on his boyfriend's fragile spine, and couldn't wait until the reached the hour mark. Levi would have probably used his gear all the way back to the castle, but Eren had begged him to rest after the first hour. Now he was kind of wishing he'd fought for Levi to rest after the first five minutes because his heart honestly couldn't take it. Each time Levi's anchors fired, he kept seeing Levi falling to the forest floor with his body broken. He'd nearly lost Levi once and he couldn't go through that again, doubly so now that they were finally together. Landing softly, Eren walked over to where Levi was standing. The man massaging his lower back while the grimace on his face told him his mate was hurting badly. Tugging at the backpack Levi wore, the man allowed him to slip it from his back, discarding it with his own "How bad is it?" "It's not great" "Do you want to feed?" "You can't always offer me your blood" "Levi, there is no one around. I can't hear anything or anyone coming. You don't need to be paranoid" Moving to wrap his arms around Levi, his alpha sighed "You don't need to be so worried" "Maybe. Maybe not. Here, please drink at least a little. It'll help with the damage from using our manoeuvre gear" Offering his wrist, Levi took his hand, turning carefully so their gear didn't tangle "I'm onto you. Yeager. Your horny" Rolling his eyes, Eren poked his tongue out "I'm not always horny" "You get pretty horny when I feed" "Fine, I'll cut my hand and you can feed from that. I really am just trying to make sure you're alright" "Relax brat. It was a joke. We're going to rest here anyway, so we might as well sit down" It was inevitable. He really did get stupidly horny when Levi fed from him. Fucking up against a solid oak, Eren's legs were wrapped around his boyfriends waist while his back was steaming from the roughness of the tree. His shirt and jacket were... somewhere, along with gear, making it easier for Levi to feed from the crook of his neck. Melting into Levi's hold, he chanted his mates name over and over, clinging to him for dear life. Grunting, Levi's knot unexpectedly flared. Usually his mate made him come before his knot popped, but this time Eren's orgasm hit hard, his cum splattering between their stomach, where his erection was trapped. Gasping for breath, his fingers tore at Levi's back. He couldn't help himself. He really was a slut for his mates dick. Kissing the side of Levi's head, his boyfriends fangs slid from his shoulder, before Levi lapped at the area like he always did "You ok?" "I'm wrecked. Your dick wrecked my arse" "But are you ok?" "I'm all kinds of ok" "We need to clean up" "Nah. I was thinking we could just stay like this" "Brat, I can't take you back to the castle while you're covered in your own cum" "Shouldn't you be more concerned by the fact I'm so full of yours? I'm going to be walking around, while full of you" Growling, Levi's lips smashed into his, the kiss possessive and aggressive, and over all too soon "Unless you want me to wreck your shitty arse even further, you better stop talking like that" "Maybe I want you to" "Can you at least wait until we get home? Then I'll make you scream for the whole castle to hear" "As much as I like the sound of that, I don't think it'll go over well" "Fuck'em" "I'd rather fuck you" Levi snorted, his hands moving to support him by the arse as Eren looped his arms around Levi's neck. Carrying him over to their gear, his alpha awkwardly lowered them so Eren ended up with his back against the ground "How the fuck did I end up with you?" "I ask myself that every day" "Shitty brat" "My grumpy Captain. No. My grumpy alpha" "Why do you call me alpha? Omega's don't usually have packs, do they?" "If you were a wolf, you'd be leader of the pack. You'd be the alpha. You're definitely fierce and powerful enough. Do you not like me calling you "alpha"?" "Only if I can call you omega" "Mmm. I like it. I'm your omega and you're my alpha" Rocking his hips up against him, Eren mewed as Levi's barbs jostled "You like that? You like me being inside of you like this?" "It feels amazing" "I guess you deserve some reward for this blood of yours" Eren could barely walk straight for the rest of the trip home. His arse throbbed like crazy, but it was such a good feeling. And holding Levi's hand only made everything better "Brat, get that smile off your face" "I can't help it" "You look creepy" "You mean I look fucked. Seriously. You've wrecked my arse, and all I can think about is you fucking me all over again" "That's because you're a teenager. Seriously, all you need to do is sneeze and your hard" "I'm only hard because it's you" "You're hard?" Eren realised when he said, clamping a hand over his mouth. Levi laughing openly "Just try and control it until we're alone again. I don't think Arlert's going to appreciate your boner" The thought of his friends instantly doused the heat in his crotch. Shooting Levi a glare, he lowered his hand "Thanks for that" "You're welcome. The castle shouldn't be that much further. We should just use our gear" "Is your back up for that?" "My back is fine. How's yours?" "F-fine" "You stuttered" "Your dick wrecked my arse! I don't think I can use my gear right now" "I could carry you" "Or we could walk" "Or I could carry you" "You're not carrying me. I'm taller than you" Levi raised an eyebrow, yes, he knew his argument was pathetic "I'm older than you?" "You're recovering" "Thanks to your blood, I feel good. But if you want to walk..." "Which I do" "... then we'll walk" "Good" "Fine" "Race you back?" "You're on, brat!" Both of them regretted it. Both of them landing near the front gates to the castle before stumbling. Eren hips were burning, while his pants were soaked with cum and slick. It wasn't nearly as sexy as it'd sounded "Who's dumb idea was that?" "Yours" "Oh... don't let me have ideas again" "I'll hold you to that. Are you ready?" "Mmm. Hey, can I have a bath in your room tonight?" "Our room" Eren was honestly confused "Our room?" "You're my partner" "But you don't like people in your room" "I don't mind, when it's you. Unless you don't want to" "No. I want to. I just don't know what they others will say" "You're really worried about that, aren't you?" "I... I'm not ashamed of being with you. But being with me is dangerous. And this is all so new" "If you don't want to share a room, that's all you have to say" "I do! But for now... I think maybe I want to have my own space too. Is that ok?" "I kind of expected you to say that" "Then why did you call your room, "ours"?" "So you knew you had the option. My door is always open to you" "I would say the same, but I have Armin in mind. Though, it has been two months..." "I'm not going to sneak in and fuck your while that coconut is sleeping across from you" "I never said you would..." "So yes. You can help yourself to my bathroom, just don't make a mess" "Gonna punish me?" "Given how much you seem to like me punishing you, I might need to come up with a new one" "Like what?" "Like making you Hanji's personal errand boy" Eren groaned, wrinkling his nose as they walked into the castle grounds. News of their return was already spreading "That's not sexy at all" "I know. I have to report in with Erwin" "That means I have to come with you. There's soooo many steps. Do you think if we just collapse here, he'll come and meet us?" "Probably not. He's an arsehole like that" "Carry me?" "I have to carry myself, what makes you think I can carry you?" Eren pouted with a huff, he honestly didn't really want to walk up all those stairs, only for it to end with Erwin. Instead, he'd rather be taking the stairs that led him back to his room, or to Levi's room, or the stairs down to Hanji's office... even the dungeon would be preferable to seeing Erwin. His stomach felt like it was twisting into knots, and that was just thinking about the man. If it was this bad already, he hated to think of what it'd be like when he actually saw him face to face. Walking through the castle, everyone stopped and stared. Whispers erupted, some people even daring to point in their direction as they passed. Levi was just as cool and collected as always, while Eren's anxiety levels were through the roof. His throat felt tight. His lungs felt like stone, each breath barely inflating them, and with each step, it seemed to be harder to stand upright. By the time they reached the hallway to Erwin's office, his body was shaking uncontrollably, so Levi had to sit him down until he managed to calm his breathing "Eren, can you tell me what's going on? You smell terrified. Actually terrified. Did someone say something? Or is it Erwin?" "I'm scared to see him" "You said that before. Did something happen?" "N-no. I'm just scared and my throat hurts" "Did I take too much blood?" Tilting his head to look at his throat, Levi sighed softly "The wound's healed. I can't see anything wrong with your scent gland" His boyfriend next placed his palm against his forehead "You do feel warm, but that might just be from the fact we travelled all day to get home" "I'm sorry... I know I'm blowing this out of proportion, but I'm scared. I'm scared he's going to split us up. Or he's going to tell people your secret or I'm going to be sent away to the government" "None of that is going to happen" "You don't know that. It's been two months and over 4 weeks since we last saw Hanji..." "Eren. Once this is all over, we'll take back to my room. You can take a bath while I get us something to eat. Then we can cuddle or whatever you want to do. We just need to get through this first" "Can we please not tell him? Not today... I don't think I can deal with it. My head's all over the place" "That's obvious. I think we should probably talk to Hanji too, about how low you're feeling" "I'll be ok. It's exhaustion and hormones. Once I get some actual sleep, I'll be able to deal with everything better" "If you're not better by tomorrow, you're going to see Hanji. That's not negotiable" "Ok. Can we go now? Before I pass out or throw up?" "If you're going to hurl, can you at least aim for Erwin" Giving a forced huff of a laugh, Eren indulged himself by hugging Levi tightly once the man had pulled him back to his feet. Breathing in his lover's scent, his lungs finally expanded enough for him to take a real breath "Thank you, sir" "My name's Levi" "Yes, but were back now, and in public" "Then I suppose we should do our duties and debrief with Erwin" Leaving their bags against the corridor wall, Levi knocked on Erwin's door. Their commander immediately yelling out to enter. Walking into the room, Eren found his feet were much more fascinating than he remembered "Levi! You're back!" "Yes, I am. Healed and ready to return to duty" Rising from his chair, Erwin gestured to the two empty ones. Tripping over his own feet, Eren barely saved himself. His face burnt with embarrassment as he took his seat "Everything alright there?" "The kids exhausted. It's a fair walk without horses" "Yes, I expect it is. Even with gear" "We limited the use of our gear in case of wolves, but we were lucky enough to encounter any" "Good. Good. Excellent even. So your back is healed?" "It is. My hunger is also back under control" "You gave us all quite the scare. Especially attacking Eren like you did" "It was his blood. It strengthens all my physical attributes and powers, so it only served to increase my hunger. We've talked about it with Hanji" "Yes. She informed me. She was honestly unsure as to if you would recover completely. But it truly is to see that she was wrong. You're a valued member of the Survey Corps and it would have been a bitter blow to lose you" "What's our cover story?" "Scouting. You and Eren have been on an extended mission checking the damage to the walls" "That sounds sufficiently dull" "It was either that, or send the government to personally check on you" "They would have ended up dead" "I was under the impression you were kept in chains" "I was. But that didn't mean I wouldn't have tried to kill them" Eren was enjoying pretending he didn't exist. He already wanted to punch Erwin in the face for bringing up the fact Levi had attacked him. It wasn't his partner's fault he couldn't control himself. Everyone knew it wasn't. "Now, Eren. How are you doing? Have you had any problems looking after Levi? Or any heat related issues since your last round of treatment?" Treatment. He'd hardly call it treatment "The brat hasn't. He was too busy taking care of me and cleaning to do much of anything else" "I'm fine, sir. There are no scars or signs that would indicate what happened with Captain Levi" "What happened with Levi?" "I mean... when he attacked me sir. There are no signs of it" "Excellent. Eren, why don't you head down and have Hanji give you a full examination" "Let the kid rest, we've only just returned" "Yes, but we are now three months behind in his experiments and the government are going to want those results as soon as possible" "At least let him shower and change. He fucking stinks" "It's fine, sir. Would you like me to drop your back off to your room while on my way?" "That's an excellent idea Eren" Erwin could take his overgrown eyebrows and stick them up his arse. He didn't even give two shits about him, and if Eren had to bet money on it, he'd bet that Erwin's eyes hadn't left Levi the whole time they'd been in the man's room. Forcing a half hearted salute, he fled Erwin's office. Disregarding Erwin's order to head straight down to Hanji, Eren stole a quick shower in Levi's bathroom. If he had to have a full examination, he didn't want Hanji to see the evidence of him and Levi being together. Scrubbing himself red raw, he also cleaned himself out the best he could. Hopefully any cum that remained he could claim was slick. Regretfully, he changed in Levi's room, hating how he no longer smelt of Levi, and hating how empty he felt now that he was clean. His stupid eyes even watered with tears of loss. Levi hadn't left him. The man was perfectly fine. He was just talking to Erwin and he'd see him once they were done. That was all these was to it. Walking down to Hanji's office, the woman screamed when opened the door, practically scrambling over her desk to sweep him into her arms "You've gotten taller!" "It's nice to see you too, Hanji" "My cute little wolf! When did you get back? Why didn't you come and see me?!" "Hanji, we've been back for like half an hour. Levi's up with Erwin, while I got kicked out" "Levi's back? He's ok?" "He's up and walking" "Oh my gosh! That's great news! He was making so little progress, I feared he wouldn't be able to ever bounce back" "His back's still a bit sore, and he over did it on his manoeuvre gear, but we tried my blood and it seemed to accelerate his healing" "He drank your blood?!" "I think he felt bad for not being able to help out more. I ended up collapsing, so I may have guilted him into it" "You collapsed? My poor baby. How do feel now?" "I'm alright. My throat's sore, but Levi said my glands look ok. Erwin ordered a full physical, and he wants you start on the government experiments right away" "Well that's not going to happen. You're exhausted and it would ruin all my results. No. I'll give you a physical, but then you're going straight to bed. I want you to get at least 8 hours sleep because I know how hard you worked to look after Levi" "It got better once he started moving around again" "Eren, I know how much of an arsehole Levi can when he's sick. It's only ever happened once before, but it's not something I want to think about, or remember... now, come sit down for me. I'm so happy you're back!" Poking and prodding, Hanji forced him down to his boxer briefs, so it was relief that'd taken the time to clean up. He wanted to tell her about him and Levi, but lied and said he hadn't gone through his heat. He'd begged Levi not to tell Erwin, so it would have been wrong to tell Hanji. Taking samples from his scent glands, and samples of his blood. He finally let him get dressed again, sending him off to his quarters with a kiss to the forehead. After Erwin, he had to admit that Hanji's craziness made him feel better. To actually have someone who missed him, and worried about him... he was kind of stupidly happy. Pausing to check Levi's room on the way to his, he found it empty. His happiness deflating slightly, but the promise of cuddles and clinging helped perk him back up. Finally reaching his own room, he found Armin's bed neatly made. It didn't look like it'd been slept in for days, and his friends scene was weak. Kind of disappointed, but mostly relieved, Eren collapsed onto his own bed. His face smooshed against his pillow as he fought his way out of his boots and pants. Now that he's finally back in his own bed, he can barely keep his eyes open, and despite how hard he struggles to stay awake, he falls asleep while still waiting for Levi. Instead of being woken by his alpha, Eren's woken by Mikasa screaming his name in almost the exact same manner Hanji had. Groaning as he's forced to roll over, he finds Mikasa and Armin both sitting on his bed. Maria have mercy on his soul, he doesn't have the energy for this "Eren, where have you been? You've been gone for months! Don't you know how worried we were?!" "I'm fine Mikasa. Just tired..." "Don't you give me that. You look awful. Have you been eating? And why didn't you come and find us?!" "Yes, I've been eating. I've been on a mission with Captain Levi. Erwin sent us to check the walls. Probably so Levi didn't murder Jean for crashing into him. And did I mention I'm exhausted?" "You disappeared... we thought we'd lost you" "Mikasa, I was on a mission. You can tone it down" "Tone it down! I thought you were dead!" Groaning again, Eren grabbed his pillow and shoved it over his head "Either quieten down or leave" "Not until you tell us everything" "Can't this wait? I missed you guys, but I'm tired" Pulling the pillow away, Mikasa stared down at him "Eren, did something happen?" "No, why?" "You're acting differently" "Probably because I just spent the whole day travelling home and I'm tired. Then I had a meeting with Erwin, before a check up from Hanji. She ordered me to sleep and that's kind of all I want to do" "Fine! I see how it is!" Jumping off his bed, Mikasa stormed from the room. Eren letting out his third groan "Fuck" "She'll calm down. She's just been super worried about you" "It's not my fault I was away for so long. It's not like I wanted to be, and you guys were sleeping when I left" "I know. I also know you weren't checking the wall. You were looking after Captain Levi, weren't you?" "Who told you that?" "It's kind of obvious. First he's hurt during training, then you both disappeared" "You can't tell anyone. The Corps needs Levi here" "I won't, but are you ok? He can be kind of scary" "I'm fine Armin. He was scary for the first month, but Hanji was checking in with us. He hurt his back, but he's ok now" "I don't think I could have done it" "Probably not. I don't think I've cleaned as much in my whole life as I did in the last two months. I feel like I could sleep for a year" "As long as you're ok" "I am. And I did missed you guys, I'm just so tired, and Mikasa's voice is so loud" "You've for that right. At least I can move back in now that you're back" "Aw. Did you miss my snoring" "More like Jean and Connie still won't let me read at night" "That's nice. Feeling the love, bro" "I missed you. I'll let you get some sleep and I'll talk to Mikasa" "Thanks, Armin. I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast, right?" "Sounds good" Armin patted his leg before leaving him. Retrieving his pillow from his side, Eren's head had only just touched it when there was a knock on his door "What?!" Opening the door, Levi was standing there with a smirk "Hello to you too, brat. What's wrong?" "No one wants to let me sleep" Closing the door behind him, there was a click as the lock was engaged. Walking over to his bed, Levi sat on the edge "Does that mean you don't want me to stay?" "Will you let me sleep? Because I'm fucked" "I'll let you sleep" "Then you can stay" Snorting, his boyfriend went about pulling his boots off. His wet hair was still dripping, giving him the impression Levi had gotten out the shower and come straight to see him. Lifting the side of the blankets so Levi could join him, Eren curled into him immediately, leaving his pillow for Levi to use "Are you ok?" "Mmmm, just sleepy" "Get some sleep then" "I'm trying to" "Shitty brat" Mumbling something that even he couldn't make out, Eren was more than happy to fall back to sleep with Levi in his hold, his boyfriend pressing kisses to the top of his head as he did. * The following morning, Eren woke to find Levi already awake. The alpha having left the room to retrieve his work, and had taken over Armin's bed in an effort to get it done. Letting out a weak whine, Levi looked to him "Hey brat, enjoy your nap?" Whining again, he reached towards his boyfriend, his throat tender as fuck. Abandoning his paperwork, Levi slipped from the bed, padding across the small distance, before sitting down next to him. Placing his calloused palm against his forehead, Levi frowned "You feel warm, and your neck's oozing" "Hanji took samples yesterday" The frown on his boyfriends face turn to a disgusted scowl as he sighed "She should know better by now. Every time she touches your glands, you always have a negative reaction" "Mmm, it's ok. My throat will be ok. I feel like I slept for ages" "Through the afternoon, and into the morning. Armin's already been to check on you" "He did? But... what did you say about being here? I mean, you didn't tell him..." Coughing, he nuzzled into Levi's hand "No, I didn't tell him. I said I was keeping an eye on you because Hanji needs you for experiments and there was no way I was letting you sleep in my bed" "Mmm. That's ok then. Did you get much work done?" "Most of it. Erwin's sending me on a trip up to the Capital in a couple of days. Apparently he needs documents delivered urgently, but he can't trust any of the other shitty members to deliver them" "You're going?" "It'll only be for a week or so" A week seemed like a lifetime. His urge to pull Levi down and have him soothe his pain away with the endless pleasure only his mate could bring was strong, but with all Hanji's tests, he couldn't risk it. He also knew that this time with Levi was precious. They couldn't be this open again once they left this room. He'd go back to his classes and training, while Levi went back to his duties as a Squad Leader. So he wanted to cling. He wanted to cling to Levi and never let him go. Instead, all he could do was nuzzle against his hand as he let out another whine "You'll be fine. Hanji will be taking over your care, and with everything she has planned, you probably won't even have time to miss me" "I'll still miss you" "We have a little time before we need to get you to Hanji, are you up for breakfast?" "Yeah... not too much though" "You need to eat" "My glands are really tender" "That's even more reason to eat. I know you heal fast, but you still need to take care of yourself" Eren snorted, finally pushing himself up so he could rest his head on Levi's shoulder "Who would have thought you had such a soft side?" "It's only for you. And if you tell anyone, I'll kick your arse" "That's my big bad alpha" "You're still a brat" "Mmm. I know things are going to change, but I'm still happy to be with you" "Alright, that's enough sappy shit for now. Get dressed while I organise these papers" Breakfast was cold oatmeal that Eren barely managed to choke down. It wasn't exactly fair that Levi got away with only his usual cup of tea. Nor was it fair that the rest of the squad crowded around Levi to ask how he was recovering, while all Eren got was stuck with the rest of his friends. Both sitting at different tables, which may as well have been in different cities. Annoyed by their persistent questioning, Eren abandoned the dining hall, taking himself down to see Hanji. As usual, Hanji was excited to see him. Leading him through to her private lab, she settled him down on the examination table "Your glands look swollen" "Yeah. Levi said you should know to leave them alone by now" "He did?" "Mmm" Cackling, Hanji shook her head "It's on the list of things I have to do this time around. I was hoping they'd heal over night. Still, you and Levi, hey?" "What about me and Levi?" "You're just calling him by his first name. Could it be you and he...?" Hanji's smile couldn't get any wider "What?! No. It's not like that!" "Mhmm. And where is Leeeevi this morning?" Eren ignored the accusing way Hanji extended the "e" in his boyfriend's name "Working. Erwin's sending him to the Capital" "Yep. Which means you're stuck here with me" "I don't mind. I've literally been stuck with Levi for two months. He doesn't always appreciate my humour" "Did he make you clean?" "I don't think I ever want to see another scrubbing brush again" "We both know you don't mean that. You would have been back a whole lot sooner if it was that bad" "I'm pretty sure we couldn't come back until Levi healed. Besides, Erwin was practically drooling over him last night. I don't think he cared I was back" "Awww. Are you jealous?" "Hanji, I will bite you if you keep this up" Laughing again, Hanji grabbed her notebook "You sound just like him. Ok, so today, we don't need to do your bloods, and I won't need to biopsy your glands again" "Good, because they really fucking hurt" "You know, every time I hear you swear, it makes me want to laugh. You're too sweet to be swearing" "I'm not that sweet" "Of course you are. Now, I'm going start with nail and hair samples... and I'm going to need a tooth" "Yay. Have I told you how happy I am to be back?" "Yep. If it helps, I can sedate you and wake you after it's all over" "No. We both know they get cranky when there's drugs in my samples" "I've already taken the blood samples, we're all set to drug you up" "And we're not going to repeat the tests?" "Nope" "In that case, drug me up and do what you will" Hanji winked "Oh baby, you have no idea the things I could do to you" "I think I'll just take a dose of sedatives, with a follow up shot of sleep" "Ooooh. I think I can do that. Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?" "As long as you leave the lights on" Hanji giggled as she nodded "I can do that, but I don't think I need to subject you to my singing" "Aw. Maybe you'll sound better when I'm unconscious?" "This is true. I'll be right back, then we can get started" "Take your time" "You're such a cutie" "And you're deluded" * With Petra and Erwin both gushing over him, Levi felt like smacking his head repeatedly on the nearest wall. He was fine. He was still a little stiff, but he was fine. With Eren's blood, he'd be healed in no time, but that would mean actually finding 5 minutes for himself. He hadn't even gotten to walk Eren down to Hanji, as the kid was dragged away from him by his friends, while the rest of his squad wanted to know how he was, if he was actually healed, when he was leaving for Capital and about a hundred other shitty questions. All he could think about was Eren's swollen scent glands. He'd fed from them just fine during the brat's heat, none of them swelling or oozing like they had for Hanji's needles, and the idea of his... his boyfriend being pain and left him on edge. He was still struggling to accept the fact that Eren was truly his... boyfriend. He had no idea what normal people do when dating, only that he wanted the teen by his side and he desperately wanted to protect him... hell, he was still dealing with the fact he was sleeping with a 16 and a half year old brat, who made him feel like he was half his age, and the fact all it took was a single look or touch to ignite a fire in his gut. He was pathetic. In love with kid who would be spending the next three weeks in the hands of Hanji. Something he desperately wished he could save Eren from, but Shitty Eyebrows was sending him away. A bit so subtle move to seperate the pair of them, and move that was definitely not appreciated. It was nearing on lunch time before Levi finally managed to escape to Hanji's lab. Eren was out cold on the bed, while Hanji was noting something or other down "How is he?" Jumping, Hanji squealed as she span to face him "Levi! You look great!" "Touch me and I'll break your hand" "Awww. You're so sweet. Your little boyfriend is just fine" "My boyfriend?" "Don't tell me you two didn't finally get together! You were alone for long enough" "You're not funny. Why's under?" "I needed a tooth, and he agreed he'd rather be under when I took it" "A tooth? That's fucking revolting. Do you know how many germs are in the human mouth?" "It's not my fault. How do you think I feel? I don't want to hurt him, I even took gland samples last night in a hope they'd heal before today" "You should know to leave them alone" Hanji's grin grew "Eren said the exact same thing" "It's true. I don't know what you're doing, but you're doing it wrong" "Oh! You're going to tell me how to do my job?" "I will when you put the kid in pain. He's had to put up with me while I was out of my mind. He's suffered enough" "Well, he's all done. He's just sleeping the sedatives off. Now, tell me more about you. How's your back? And when did you start drinking Eren's blood? And did he have his heat while you were together? I need to know all about it" "I've been feeding off Eren daily for the last 3 weeks. It only took a couple of feeds for it start working. And why do you need to know about Eren's heat? It's his business" "Oooooh. Daily. And I need to know because the Government's given me medication for him" "Not that shit that makes him bleed" "I don't know. I've never seen a composition like it, so I can't fabricate the results. We both know I would rather not put him through that" Levi paused. He didn't want to admit to Hanji that he was dating Eren, but he didn't know how much the brat had told her. He also didn't want Hanji potentially endangering Eren's life because he hadn't sacked up enough to admit it "If you mention anything to Erwin, I will fucking gut you" "Mention anything to me, about what?" Oh for fuck sake. Couldn't he just have five fucking minutes without Erwin. Taking a deep breath, he tried to settle his features into something that wasn't quite a hateful glare "Eren's sick from Hanji's shitty poking. He's going to be fine, but he won't want to be put on standby while his glands heal" "If he's sick, he's a danger" "He's not a danger. It's just his glands and his scent" "Yep. I took samples last night and they haven't healed. I've just been taking the samples the Government requested" He's actually have thank Hanji for backing up his misdirection, the thought annoying him immensely "I can't believe this. What use is he if he's sick. The Government is already hounding me for those results" "Hey! We are not doing this all over again. His glands were agitated by their experiments. Most of what they want done won't be affected by the fact his glands are swollen. One or two days and he'll be healed" "Make sure he is. He's had enough time off" Crossing his arms, Levi straightened his back "He wasn't on holiday" "He might as well have been" "Because having your superior officer attack you regularly in a haze of blood lust, screams holiday" "We only sent him as he was the only one able to stand being attacked by you. You tore his arm open and it healed. That was evidence enough" "What the fuck are you talking about?" "Eren didn't come running to you about it?" "Erwin, either explain what the fuck you're talking about, or get out" "Levi, you were out of it when you first came too. I told you about this. I tried to feed Eren your blood and you mauled his arm..." Oh... he vaguely remembered something like that "That's old news. Why are you bringing that up?" "Because he's using you. Can't you see it? You spent the night in his room. What for?" "Because he's sick..." "If I asked him, would he say the same thing?" "Probably not, as he was asleep all night. It's not like it impacted on getting my paperwork done" Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose, the man closing his eyes as he took a deep breath "Hanji, keep Eren here. Levi, you'll be leaving tomorrow morning. I expect all your work to be completed, before you do. Hanji, organise blood for Levi, blood that isn't Eren's" "Erwin..." "That's all. Keep me apprised on Eren's condition" Leaving just as abruptly as he'd arrived, Levi growled is annoyance "What the fuck was that?" "Erwin was really concerned when you were hurt" "I know that" "He blamed it all on Eren. It scared the hell out of him, seeing he was so distressed over you" "It was an accident" "But finding out you and he were never going to be a couple, followed by Eren being the one to carry you back to the castle... all his anger was directed at him" "Why didn't you tell me?" "I did. You were in and out of lucidity, so I'm not surprised you don't remember. Eren really was a wreck. I've never seen him so distraught" "That's because he's a brat" "Levi, we both know there's more to it than that" "Hanji, what is it you want me to say" "I want you to tell me what Erwin means to you, and what Eren means to you" "Erwin was supposed to be my friend, but with the way he's been treating Eren... it's not my fault I don't have feelings for him" "And Eren?" "Do you even have to ask?" Hanji screamed as she threw her arms up "I knew it!" "Shut up. Eren doesn't want anyone to know" "Ok. Ok. I'm so happy for you!" "Don't be happy for me, just look after him" "I will. Buuuut I need to know, have you two done it yet" "What are we, 12?" "Fine. Have you and Eren had sexual intercourse" "Out of everything, that's the first thing you want to ask?" "Well, I want to know if he went into heat?" "If you mean he worked his arse off to put up with my shit until he collapsed, and stressed himself into a heat. Then yes" "What was it like? Was he ok? Did his scent change before or after his heat? Did the taste of his blood change? What was the sex like?" "Is this even relevant to his health?" "Completely" "His heat was rough, but he was sane for most of it" "Really? Usually he can't remember what he says or does. Maybe it was actually having a partner" "It was fucked. I had no idea much pain he'd goes through when he had one" "On the plus side, at least you couldn't get him pregnant" "Don't even joke about that" "His womb was removed, and I haven't seen any mention of it in the Government notes or research materials. When you fed from him, was it..." "From neck, arm and glands" "And his glands didn't react" "They healed perfectly fine. Even during his heat" "I wonder why my needles seem to cause such an extreme effect" "Don't you dare go stabbing them again" "I don't need to" "Good. Now, how long before he wakes up?" "He shouldn't be under for much longer. But you have paperwork to do, and I have tests to run" "Fucking Eyebrows" "I'll try and finish everything I can today, that way you can spend some time with him before you have to leave" "Don't say it like that. Just because we're... whatever we are, doesn't change anything. And no talking to Eren about it, either" "Awww. He'd give details" "I know he would. That's the problem" "My babies finally got together! I'm so happy" "I will end you" "You keep saying that, but I never see any evidence" Snarling, Levi bared his teeth, Hanji's smile faltering slightly "You're precious boy is safe in my hands. Now let me finish up" Fucking Shitty Glasses kicked him out now that she had what she wanted. Maybe he should have just lied through his aching teeth? He was never going to hear the end of it, especially if things didn't go well and she sure as shit didn't deserve to be thanked after all that crap. Stalking back to Eren's room, he found Armin moving back in "Captain Levi, sir?!" "Relax Arlert. I need the paperwork I left here" "It's stacked on Eren's bed, sir... um, speaking of Eren, where is he?" "He'll be with Hanji until the required experiments are completed" "So there's no point me moving back in?" "No one's going to stop you. Though you'll most likely be alone" "That's fine. Um... is Eren actually ok?" "His scent glands are a little swollen from Hanji's poking, but she assures me he's fine" "That's good... I'll let you get back to it, sir" He probably shouldn't find Armin's fear of him as funny as he did, the kid couldn't even look him in the eyes. Shitty brat. At least Eren had a friend that actually wanted him around. Hopefully Hanji would let the boy see his friend... because with Erwin on his rampage, Eren could use all the friends he could get. * True to her word, Hanji came fetched him once she was done with Eren. The woman not so subtly slipping the key to her private lab into his pocket, before shoving him into the room and slamming the door closed behind him. Eren was laying on the table, blood around his paws as he huffed unhappily. Walking over to the bed, Levi leant to down to stroke Eren's ears affectionately "Hey. How do you feel?" Eren let out a whimper as he shifted back, trying to push himself up before failing miserably "I thought Hanji wasn't supposed to be pushing you too far" "It's fine. I tripped over my own feet and face planted" "You. Never" "It was kind of spectacular, if I do say so myself" "Give me a second to lock the door, then I'm yours for the next few hours" "What? How?" "Blame Hanji" "She knows, doesn't she?" "What makes you say that?" "She kept looking at me and smiling" "Of course she did. I'm leaving in the morning, so she gave me the key for the night" "Mmm, I feel like the only time I've got to see today was waking up and sleeping" "It's fine" Crawling into the thin bed with Eren, Eren's lips found his. The teen no longer sleepy by the feel of the erection he was grind into Levi's hip. Hefting his omega into his lap, he shot his boyfriend a smirk as he slapped his arse. Letting out a squeak, Eren pouted "What was that for?" "For abandoning me at breakfast" "I didn't abandon you. I was letting you catch up with everyone" "That's why you kept looking at me" "I wanted to have breakfast with you" "Nothing stopped you" "I didn't want to be in the way" "Right now, these pants are in the way" "I should do something about that" "You should..." With clumsy hands, Eren finally got Levi's pants undone. The reaction the teen gave every time he eyed his erection was adorable. His eyes going wide, before he'd lick his lips and give a little wiggle "Clam down, brat" "I don't want to, sir" "We have hours" "But I've felt empty all day..." Sina Maria. Those words were a sin "Then I guess we'll just have to change that" Pouting his plump pink lips, Eren shimmied his underwear off, completely gracelessly, before straddling his lap. His lover pressing his lips to his as Levi's hands moved to Eren's arse. He wasn't going to risk hurting his omega, not when he wasn't going to be there to take care of him. Whining into his mouth, Eren bit his bottom as Levi slowly began to open him with his finger "Feeling good?" "Sooo good" "Mmm, my good little omega. Nice and wet, making it so easy for me to fuck you with my fingers" Honestly, he had no idea where any of these words were coming from, but they reduced Eren to a blushing and begging mess "I'm going to fill you up so good, while I drink down that blood of yours" "L-Levi... need you" "I don't want to tear you" "You won't. Need you so bad" "Go on then" Kissing him quickly, Eren pulled back, pulling Levi's hand from him so he could guide himself down onto Levi's weeping erection. He really did feel like a horny teenagers with Eren. He couldn't get enough of his beautiful body, and lusty little pants and moans. Gripping the edge of the bed, Eren arched his back, his legs spread enough for Levi to watch him fucking himself on his erection "Fuck, you're so beautiful" Blushing, Eren let his head roll back, his moans growing louder by the second. When the trend rhythm grew sloppy, Levi held him down by the hips, rocking hard up against his lover until Eren came across his stomach, screaming his name. As his knot flared, he pulled his boyfriend down, nuzzling and kissing his hair "So good to me..." Eren was making that rumbling purr of his as he fought to catch his breath. Massaging his lower back, they basked in their after glow "You're so perfect" "Shhh... sleeping" "Shitty brat" "I don't want to let you go" "You don't have to. Not right now" "Tomorrow" "I'm sorry I have to go, but if you're good for Hanji, I'll bring you back something" "I only want you to bring yourself back" "I'll be back. I promise you" "And I'll be waiting" "I would bring you with me if I could" "It's ok. Hanji said I'll stay down here while you're gone" "Yeah. And don't listen to anything Erwin has to say. He's just in a chronic shit mood" "Mmm. I'll behave" "Not for the rest of the night, you won't" "Then shut up feed" Fuck, his cocky little brat was perfect.