#if necessary i can maybe put a little summary about the OC somewhere

[someonewhogotanaccount]

Don’t ask me why

I recently had absolutely no time to waste because of Latin (you probably remember) so I decided to do virtually anything except what I was supposed to do (after I studied for some hours). Soooo what do you think about this edited picrew? Like, I made this one picrew… don’t know anymore which one but I think I reblogged it once… anyway, I made this picrew for my OC and edited a few things with my ✨not existing✨ drawing skills. (Really, I can’t draw and I don’t even enjoy it, it is frustrating as hell)

It’s not much but I‘m not sure about the look of my OC so I ask you if it’s good or if you would change something. Here is the thing:

As I said, it‘s not much, but I changed the hair, the nose, the eyes and included some stickers (on the star is written “Agent No.1” + name of the OC). And I dunno what I thought ‘bout the emoji, just wanted something silly with a “rebellious touch”.

It’s, tbh, the first time I really thought about the look of the OC (which is funny ‘cause this OC is in my head now for… eight years? Nine? And the only feature I ever thought about were the green eyes). So feel free to tell your opinion ;).

[leftonraed]

The Night We Met - Episode 1

pairing : Taehyung x OC genre : bodyguard!au, singleparent!au, idol!au word count : 2.4k summary — Taehyung gets terrible news and finds himself in a delicate situation

Prologue | ep.1 | ep.2 | ep.3 | ep.4 | ep.5 | ep.6 | ep.7 

The past month has been a complete blur. If you asked Taehyung to narrate the course of events after the moment he had been in charge of his niece, he wouldn’t be able to, especially when that small time frame included the one event he thought he’d never attend this quickly in his lifetime —

Hwiin got a little startled after he answered the door. While gauging his mood after several weeks of silence, she couldn’t take her eyes off the sullen man who seemed absent.

He was dressed in a dark suit. His hair was fully covering his eyes and had been dyed black, she was just at that moment able to notice it’d never been that long before.

The small heels of his shoes echoed loudly inside as he shuffled towards the living-room.

The gloomy winter sky, visible through the wide windows, narrowed the penthouse and gave the impression they lived in a black and white movie.

The shades of grey clashed unpleasantly with the barely audible cartoons displayed on the wide flat screen where Hina was sitting in front of. She hardly glanced Hwiin’s way.

She removed her purse and coat and put them on the couch while Taehyung kissed and whispered words to his niece. He didn’t get any response either. He stood up and joined Hwiin.

“I didn’t know how to do this-” he trailed softly as her eyes followed his hands feebly unfolding a paper with her eyes. He cleared his throat constricted with sorrow, “I wrote a couple of things down. If I forgot anything, send a text.”

She took it from him and realised she hadn’t said anything yet. What were you supposed to say in this situation, she wondered. The man she thought she knew so well almost struck her as a stranger and left her struggling for the right words.

Hwiin carefully looked up at him and felt her heart hurting at his sight. She should’ve been there for him those past weeks. She became angry with herself the longer she stared at his forlorn expression.

“Taehyung...” She hugged him tightly, as her way to make it up to him. He remained still. He didn’t want Hina to see him break down and cry.

“Thank you,” he only managed to whisper before she took a step back.

She quietly watched him walk out and never before had she felt a greater need to be by his side. She didn’t do anything of this sort.

She walked around the couch to sit next to the little girl she had been requested to look after for the day and tried to empty her mind. All she wanted was for this day to end.

So did he.  

___________________________________________

He didn’t seem present during the entirety of the funeral.

His parents, he used to be so close to but had drawn away from after his debut as an idol, didn’t even manage to make him say anything. They didn’t bother him about it and respected his own way of mourning the family loss.

Taehyung could sense his brother’s in-laws itching to ask him about Hina but held themselves.

While he made other attendees think he looked elsewhere and “too expressionless” in their opinion, he’d actually been doing his best to keep it to himself. He couldn’t tell what helped him hide his emotions, it was so unlike him but he had held steady.

He was right behind his home’s door when he heard Hina’s cries before he even walked in.

Worry instantly frowned his face as he found Hwiin holding the little girl in her arms, soothing her.

“She’s been crying the whole time since she woke up from her nap,” she informed him with a hint of despair. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Hina looked at him and he felt his feet naturally pulling him towards her when her arms stretched outward in his direction.

He held her closely and she tightened him to herself, burying her face in his neck.

He would never know for sure but she sounded grief-stricken and gave him the impression that he was the only one left capable of assuaging her.

Taehyung felt his legs give in and knelt down.

He was finally giving in.

Tears, held deeply back within, coursed down in an unbroken stream to dampen her dress. His body hiccoughed his ache so violently, it seemed it wanted to retaliate for the strains he’d inflicted himself.

Hwiin watched silently with sorrowful eyes as the two of them sought comfort in each other. She caught herself wondering if his niece somehow understood she’d never see her parents again.

__________________________________________

Taehyung never questioned his brother’s wish to have him take care of his daughter if something were to happen. He isn’t living the ideal kind of life to raise a toddler and there are many to criticize him about it, his manager being the first of them, but having Hina feels surprisingly right.

He’s grateful to have her keeping his mind off things but she also reminds him unintentionally of her father and the other way around will inevitably happen.

He sometimes ponders the doubts he has as a caretaker, unpleasant thoughts that come flooding his mind every time he’d fail doing the right thing or get rejected by her; he gives a chance to others scenarios playing out different outcomes but they never satisfy him.

He seeks comfort in the reality that he needs a lot of time to get better at it and that there’s no reason to rush. It’ll give him enough to make his mind about the way he’ll have to address their reality one day.

One of his priorities is to make sure his home has everything his niece would need. This meant visiting his brother’s empty house. Hwiin had asked him if he’d need her but he preferred to be on his own and planned not to linger longer than necessary.

__________________________________________

“You didn’t tell me what you’re planning to do about the few shows left,” Hwiin suddenly initiates, locking her phone.

Taehyung sighs when Hina whines at his umpteenth attempts to keep her from drawing on the wall. Defeated, he stands up to show his manager out.

“Did you hear from Seojun?”

“Nope. I sent him a text a few days ago. He never answers my calls.”

“I can’t see myself going anywhere with her. And I’m definitely not bringing her with me.”

It’s Hwiin’s turn to sigh, although she does it out of light exasperation. “What about my babysitter idea?”

“Out of question.” She lifts her head at his sudden firm tone. “I don't want her to be around strangers.”

“What will you do if you don’t hear from him anymore? Taehyung, you can’t stay at home indefinitely.”

“If I have no choice-” He cuts off himself. “I’m sure everyone will understand.”

She pinches her lips and cranes her neck up to stare somewhere in the empty hallway, keeping her calm.

Leaning on the hand he’s holding the door with, Taehyung tilts his head to glance at her with a hint of amusement.

“I’ll call him myself.”

She looks back at him and blinks slowly, thankful. They say their goodbyes and he closes the door.

When he comes back, Hina’s still putting the finishing touches to her art and Taehyung ponders the thought of throwing the felt tips away once she’s done with them.

He plops himself down on the couch and takes his phone out of his pocket. He quickly finds his bodyguard’s number and makes a phone call. The line rings once.

“Taehyung!”

“H-hi,” he answers, surprised at the man’s quick answer. “It’s been a while. How are you?”

“I’m happy you called! I’m doing really good. What about you?”

“I’m okay- I think.”

“I know you’ve heard it when we last talked but I’m really, really sorry.”

“Thank you. I’m doing okay, ‘promise.”

Seojun doesn’t need to see him to doubt his words but gives him the benefit of the doubt. He tries to change the subject, “How’s the little one doing?”

“Good…” Taehyung’s gaze is directed at Hina's long hair. “I still didn’t get one word from her though.”

“Don’t worry about it, she’ll talk when she’s ready. You shouldn’t force these things.”

Taehyung hums in thought. “How did your break go? How’s everyone ?”

“Very good. Everyone’s doing great.”

“Glad to hear that!” Taehyung smiles a lazy grin and remembers the purpose of his call. “Seojun, I’m sorry I bring this a little abruptly but- when do you think you’ll be coming back? Hwiin told me she tried to contact you-”

“Ah yes,” he suddenly exclaims. “I actually wanted to talk to you directly.”

Amused, Taehyung’s brows furrow slightly. “Right.”

“I’ve never liked the way she looked down on people. But you do well to bring that up.”

He frowns a little more, anticipating.

“I… I don’t think I’ll be coming back anytime soon, Taehyung.” There’s a short pause. “I've been thinking about it lately and we’ve talked a lot with my wife… The fact is that- my family misses me and I miss them.”

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say immediately, “I’m sorry to hear that... But I understand.”

“Really? It’s just that- they’ve barely seen me the past six years and I thought maybe I needed to extend that break for a little longer while.” Seojun feels terrible now that he’s brought the news. As if the death of his brother wasn’t enough of a change.

“I totally do- I just- I don’t know what to do to keep working and look after my niece at the same time. I mean, th- there’s no one else I trust equally to look after her when I can’t.”

“I know and I’ve made sure you guys wouldn’t be left hanging.” He’s quick to reply, “I found someone to take over. Your agency’s already abreast of it. They’re okay to hire that person but they told me they wouldn’t make any decision until they get your last word.”

“Can you tell me more about him?”

“It’s actually a woman, she’s around your age. She’s attended the same security school I did and was the top of her class. I know her personally and was the one who offered to take the helm. I wouldn’t recommend anyone else to stand in for me.”

Taehyung would never doubt Seojun. They regard each other as family, so if Seojun trusted that woman enough to take charge of his responsibilities, he wouldn’t question him further.

“Okay.”

And it’s not like he could think of a better solution to tell Hwiin.

Seojun is relieved when he hears his answer, however he can feel he doesn’t seem totally convinced.

“I promise you, you won’t miss me once she starts.”

___________________________________________

“Hina,” complains Taehyung. “Why are you being so difficult? I thought you liked mashed carrots.”

He’s helpless and covered in what once has been her lunch. She’s on the verge of crying and shaking her legs, irritated. Her arm sways her small plate and Taehyung catches it before she makes an even bigger mess. She starts whining loudly.

“One second,” he mutters while cleaning her stained face before standing up to take her out of the high chair. She stops crying and leaves to watch cartoons still on T.V.

“I’ll go change. I’ll be in the bedroom,” he announces like he doesn’t know he’ll be ignored and leaves.

The doorbell rings a couple of minutes after, taking both Taehyung and Hina by surprise.

Seeing her uncle nowhere around, she stands up to totter toward the entrance holding onto her soft toy. Taehyung just got rid of his dirty clothes when he decides to come out only dressed in a pair of red boxers, remembering he’s expecting Hwiin to come by.

He finds Hina trying to reach for the handle, perched on her tippy-toes.

“Let me help you,” he smiles lightly at her when he looks down, seeing her small face after she craned her neck to the fullest. He taps in the security code and opens and she hurries to push it wide open.

“Hello.”

Hina walks to go behind him at the sight of a stranger. There’s a short silent while that lasts awfully long the second Taehyung understands he’s in his underwear and that he doesn’t recognize you.

“You’re not Hwiin,” he trails quietly.

You shake your head looking back at him very calmly.

From the corner of your eye, you notice his niece hiding behind his leg, peeking shyly at you. You squat at her level and blood rushes up Taehyung’s cheeks.

“You’re Hina, right?” You look at her. “This is for you.”

He pulls himself together. “You didn’t have to,” he chuckles abashed.

His niece stares at the toy piano you offer her. You press one key to make a sound and lit it up in hopes to get her pleased with it.

Taehyung can’t help but think a gift is the last thing she deserves after the tantrum she threw just minutes ago. “Say thank you, Hina.”

She carefully takes it from you and there’s a hint of a satisfied smile on your lips.

“Who’s Hwiin?” You gaze up at Taehyung.

Shit. You need to get up. He needs to put on some clothes, he thinks.

“My manager. Are you-”

“Y/N, your new bodyguard.” You straighten up with your hands behind you.

“Taehyung. Nice to meet you.” He feels Hina, pulling the hem of his boxers and swiftly takes her in his arms. She keeps an iron grip on the toy. “Uh- Please, come in.”

You step inside when he moves away and closes the door behind you. He stares at you as you take a look around, surprised you remain unaffected by his lack of clothing but still thinks it’s not the appropriate way he should have welcomed you in.

“I’m sorry about the mess, I didn’t know you’d come home so early.” He explains as he puts down Hina. “Make yourself at home. ‘Be right back.”

You watch him disappear without a word, his niece follows him while gazing curiously at you. You bring your eyes back on the splendid view the penthouse overlooks.

When Taehyung comes back, closely followed, you’re still standing nearby the window. He’s intrigued and curious as to what made you so special in Seojun’s eyes.

///////////////////////!\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Feedback very much appreciated  Reblog if you wish to read more

[olivemac]

heartbeat | chapter three | b.b.

Summary | When Steve Rogers asks Kate Stark to find the Winter Soldier, she gets too involved.

Notes | Captain America: Civil War re-write, essentially. Starts just after the events of CA: Winter Soldier.

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc, Bucky Barnes x Stark!oc

Genre | romance

Rating | explicit

Story Warnings | mild angst, fluff, romance tropes, so many romance tropes, coarse language, alcohol use, canon-typical violence, smut (m/f), oral sex (f&m receiving), 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings | all the romance tropes, coarse language, mild alcohol use, smut (m/f), oral sex (f receiving), 18+ ONLY

Citations | Du Maurier, D. (2018). Rebecca. Virago Press.

Things are starting to heat up.

master list | AO3 link

_____

prev chapter

_____

The next morning when Bucky sees Kate, she’s sitting on the front steps of the building feeding scraps of a meat-filled pastry to one of the stray cats that’s always congregating on the block.

“If you keep feeding that thing, it’s going to invite all its friends,” Bucky says by way of greeting.

“Good,” Kate replies, squinting up at him. “Maybe they’ll catch all the mice in the building.”

He chuckles and sits down beside her. She offers him the bag of warm pastries, which he accepts, pulling one out. He's drawn to her, he realizes. He doesn’t quite know why he finds it so easy to be around her, but he likes it.

"Did you just get back from a run?" he asks, looking at her trainers.

"Yeah." She looks at the bundle in his hands. "Bookstore?"

He nods, "They have a fairly decent selection in English."

Kate hums in response and takes a bite of her own pastry. "What are you reading?"

"Rebecca. Daphne de Maurier," he says. He doesn't mention he purchased it because the title made him think of his sister and he was afraid the memory of her name would slip away.

"A classic."

A bit of pastry filling lingers at the edge of her mouth and before he can stop himself, Bucky wipes it away with his gloved thumb. Their eyes meet and Bucky is staring at her like she's a puzzle he's trying to solve.

Kate looks away first, blushing. "Dinner again tonight?" she asks. "I mean...obviously, if you have plans, but...I'm terrible at cooking for one so...." She laughs nervously.

"Okay," he replies, a mirror of the first time she asked. He's still staring at her intently, but it's softer now.

"Okay," she says, her nerves disappearing.

_____

When they finish eating dinner, Kate asks Bucky if he'll read to her. His words have been few and far between, letting her carry their conversations – which she doesn't mind – but she's found she's lured to the deep timbre of his voice.

He hesitates for only a moment before agreeing. He ducks next door to grab his book and when he returns, they settle on her couch – Bucky at one end, Kate at the other.

He starts to read, "'Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.'"

_____

The next few weeks go by much the same. Kate cooks for Bucky and they eat together; they alternate between reading aloud to each other. Kate reads mostly newer releases – contemporary fiction, fantasy, the occasional thriller – while Bucky sticks to the classics, anything released before World War II.

He doesn't always listen when she reads. Sometimes he focuses on the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

"You're staring," she says one night, not looking up from her book.

"Sorry," he replies.

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, leans forward, and wraps one of the curls falling over her shoulder around a gloved finger before pulling away. Then he reaches down and pulls his gloves off slowly, first the right, then the left. He pushes his sleeves up over his forearms. His titanium arm catches the light, and Kate lets out the smallest gasp at the sight. At first, he thinks she's scared, but she sets her book down and takes his metal hand between both of hers, holding it tightly. He leans forward again and lets his bare right hand sink into the curls at the back of her neck. He's still staring at her, his eyes the color of stormy, midnight skies.

Kate thinks he might kiss her, and Bucky is certainly considering it – certainly wants to – but instead he bows his head forward onto her shoulder and breathes in the scent of her skin, his plush lips soft against her neck. They stay like that for some time, just holding each other, until finally, he presses a kiss so delicate behind her ear Kate isn’t sure it was real; he pulls away and stands.

"I should go," he says.

Kate nods, and before she can say anything, he's gone.

_____

Kate lays in bed that night thinking of his arm and what it means that he showed it to her. She's read his file, she knows about the enhancements HYDRA gave him, the torture they put him through. Tears sting the corner of her eyes, and before she can stop herself, she’s crying into her pillow.

Kate falls into a restless sleep, and when she dreams of her parents’ wreck, she sees Bucky standing outside the car.

_____

A few days into December, Tony texts Kate to ask how things are going, which is code for: You haven't been kidnapped, have you? Because that would be very inconvenient for me, but I'll put on the suit and come find you if I need to.

She’s blocked Tony from tracking her, but she knows he could if he really wanted to. He doesn’t.

She sends him two selfies. In the first, she's giving a thumbs up – the background discreet enough to be anywhere in Europe. In the second, she's wearing sunglasses and sipping coffee.

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Tony texts back, and Kate rolls her eyes before tucking her phone into her coat pocket.

She’s thinking about heading back to her flat, curling up with a book or writing some new code to impress Tony with when she finally goes back to New York. But the park is quiet, and she likes the sting of the cold wind on her cheeks.

Bucky finds her there a short time later.

"What are you doing?" he asks, sitting on the bench beside her.

“Enjoying the cold,” she says.

Bucky grunts. He’s always hated winter, hated the cold. The cold meant Steve would be sick – his asthma or some other ailment bothering him – and Bucky would be without his best friend for months. Then Bucky was on ice for so long, stuck in the cold of cryo. No, the cold isn’t for him, he thinks.

But he likes the way Kate looks, bundled up in her coat and scarf and hat. Her nose is a pretty shade of red that reminds him of the color it turns when she drinks too much wine. And he loves wine-drunk Kate almost as much as he hates the cold. That Kate laughs loudly and uses any excuse touch him – a hand on his shoulder or a brief touch of his bicep. Bucky didn’t realize how much he missed being touched until the night she slipped his titanium hand into her own.

Bucky's been preparing himself for Kate to leave Bucharest at the end of December for the holidays and never return. He always had the feeling she never intended to stay in the country long, thinking maybe she was here to escape an ex-boyfriend or irritate her older brother. He knows she has enough money to do something like that, though they never speak about it.

“I saw a flyer outside our building for a Christmas market at the end of the month,” she says after a while. “We should go. I’m in the mood for mulled wine.”

“You aren’t spending Christmas with your brother?” he asks, turning his head to look at her.

"No," she says, "Christmas isn't really...our thing." She pauses before continuing, "Our parents died in mid-December so Tony either completely ignores the holiday or goes way overboard to compensate. I prefer the former."

Kate takes Bucky’s gloved left hand in hers and presses her bare fingers against the metal of his wrist where his glove meets the sleeve of his coat. She never asks about his arm, and Bucky is grateful for that. He isn't sure how he would explain it.

“Aren’t your hands cold?” he asks, frowning. “Where are your gloves?”

“I must have forgotten them,” she shrugs.

“It’s cold, let’s go home,” he says, and a spark of heat catches in Kate’s belly at the idea that he thinks of their little apartments, where they’ve spent so much time together over the past few weeks, as home.

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay,” he smiles in return.

_____

The Christmas market isn't as busy as he thought it would be, which Bucky is grateful for. He pulls his baseball cap low over his eyes and watches Kate look over a table of wood-carved ornaments. She returns to him empty-handed, and he passes her the thermos of mulled wine they've been sharing.

There's Christmas music pumping through speakers somewhere and a band setting up in a tent. They wander the market slowly, passing the thermos back and forth until it's empty. Kate's nose is red again – from the cold and the wine – and Bucky can't stop staring at her.

They've stopped to look at a Christmas tree in the center of the market when a group of kids – shouting and laughing – come careening down the walkway. Bucky pulls Kate against his chest to keep her from getting run over. He holds her close for a few moments longer than is necessary before dropping his arm from around her back.

“Mistletoe,” Kate whispers, her head titled upward, and Bucky looks up.

He remembers this somehow, remembers his mother hanging mistletoe in the doorway to their living room each Christmas so she could catch his father in a kiss. Remembers getting caught beneath it himself with his younger sister, bending down to smack a wet kiss to her cheek as she squealed.

When he looks back at Kate, she’s holding his elbow and gazing at him like he hung the damn moon, which makes a fire curl low in his belly. Before he can second guess himself, he’s leaning toward her, capturing her lips with his own, and suddenly, it’s like fireworks are exploding behind his eyes. His gloved hands reach up to cup her face and hers tangle into the knot of his scarf, pulling him impossibly closer. When they break apart, something unspoken passes between them.

He guides her back through the market toward their building, inside and up the endless series of stairs. Outside her door, he kisses her again, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. She tastes like the mulled wine they shared, and Bucky thinks he could get drunk on this alone. She pushes him away, laughing, to unlock the door, then pulls him inside with her.

When the door is closed, he turns her and presses her back against it. She reaches up to push his hat off, then pulls off her own and tosses it aside. Next, she's pulling off her gloves and then reaching for his.

"I want to feel you," she breathes, tugging at the leather around his hands, “all of you.”

When his gloves are off, his hands find her face, cupping her cheeks gently. “I haven’t done this in so long,” he rasps.

“We can slow down.”

“No,” he growls, pushing his hips against hers. He’s hard against her lower stomach, and she moans.

Kissing her, holding her like this – Bucky hasn't felt this much like himself since the war. And he can't get enough of it. He tugs at her scarf, unwrapping her like a present, while she unknots his, and they both shrug out of their coats. His bare hands slide beneath her sweater, up over her stomach to her breasts. Kate sighs at the contrast between flesh and metal on her skin. He leans back and tugs her sweater over her head, and she unhooks her bra, letting it slip down and off.

Bucky lifts her into his arms, and Kate wraps her legs around his waist. His mouth is hot against hers as he walks her to her bed. When he lays her down, he lets his lips trail down her neck, across her collarbone, and to her chest.

He pulls back slightly, beaming down at her, “God, you’re beautiful, doll.”

She reaches for the hem of his red Henley, but he stops her, covering her hand with his.

“My arm,” he says, nodding toward his left shoulder, “it’s not pretty.”

Kate doesn’t say anything, just pushes gently on Bucky’s shoulders until he’s lying flat on his back with her straddling his hips. She kisses him hard, stroking her tongue inside his mouth. With one kiss, she tries to convey how much she doesn’t care about what his arm looks like so long as he keeps touching her, keeps smiling at her, keeps letting her be part of his life.

Bucky reaches for the hem of his shirt.

“You don’t have to,” Kate says breathlessly, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

“I want to,” he says, licking his lips. “You said you wanted to feel all of me."

She smiles and lets him sit up. Bucky tugs the shirt over his head and tosses it off the bed. Kate's eyes linger briefly on the angry scars where flesh meets metal, then she bends and presses her lips there. Bucky growls and grabs her by the hips, flipping her so that's he hovering over her again.

His mouth finds her breasts, working a nipple with his tongue until she’s panting. He kisses his way down her stomach to the waistband of her jeans; he pops the button and pulls the zipper down.

"Can I taste you?" Bucky asks.

“Please,” she mewls and helps him push her jeans and underwear off.

His mouth is hot against her. He takes his time, running his tongue across her folds before pressing against the spot that makes her keen and slipping his fingers inside of her. His metal arm holds her hips in place when she comes, keeping her from moving away from him. Bucky could stay in this moment forever, he thinks, here, with his head between Kate's legs, listening to the soft sounds of her bliss, her heartbeat slowing as she comes back down.

But Kate has other ideas. She tugs at Bucky's long hair, pulling him back up to her mouth, tasting herself on his lips. Her hands work his jeans open, and she pushes them off his hips, letting her fingers glide across his buttocks slowly. Bucky groans.

"Are you sure?" he asks, pushing her hair out of her face.

"Yes," she says, and she leans up to kiss him deeply as she reaches down to stroke him.

"Do you..." he pauses, panting, "fuck, do you have a condom?"

"I have an implant. And I'm clean," she says, her eyes meeting his.

Bucky nods and tries to tell himself to remember to ask her what exactly an implant is later, but for now, he's too enraptured with the feeling of her hand around him to argue.

When he pushes inside of her, Kate gasps and moans and Bucky thinks he might actually die. It's been so long since he's felt pleasure like this, and he's lost in the wet, tight heat that is Kate. His head falls to her shoulder and he stills, allowing himself a moment to just enjoy this intimacy.

Kate runs her hands up and down his back. "Please move," she finally whispers in his ear, and Bucky lets out a strangled laugh.

He's a goner, he thinks, as he moves against her. Despite his past, despite his uncertain future, he loves her, and there is no turning back. He props himself up on his left arm and looks down at her.

"You're perfect," he says, and it's Kate's turn to laugh. Her laugh fades into a gasp as Bucky reaches between them and presses his fingers against her in a rhythm he's already memorized.

When she comes around him, clutching him tighter than he thought possible, he sees stars. He follows quickly behind, collapsing on top of her, and as he lays there, panting, and careful to hold his weight off her, Bucky has the sudden urge to laugh at how blissful he feels. When he eventually lifts his head from her shoulder and meets her eyes, Kate is smiling.

"Hi," she whispers, softly.

"Hi," Bucky returns, smiling along with her.

He rolls onto his back, tucks Kate against his side – his flesh arm solid against her back and waist – and falls into a dreamless sleep.

_____

next chapter

[our-smooty]

Flowerbeds and Fertile Soil: Chapter 14

Fandom: Good Omens

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens, )Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer

Tags:  Kidfic, Mpreg kind of, they can choose to present however so idk, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Vulva (Good Omens), OCs Galor, parenting, using your snake form to avoid confrontation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, if I missed a tag lemme know

Summary: They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know. Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza –something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them.

Ao3 Link

It was Beelzebub’s turn to pick the meeting spot, so of course they were standing in a dark, damp back alley somewhere in the American Mid-West at three in the morning. Seemed a little out of the way to Gabriel, but the Prince of Hell had said something about an on-going project with the American political system that they couldn’t leave for a even a second, so here he was. 

“We couldn’t meet inside somewhere? he sneered, eyeing the way his designer shoes were getting ruined in the disgusting sludge coming from a dumpster a few feet away.

“Don’t want you and your lot closer to this project than necessary. You’d just fuck it all up,” Beelzebub answered, rolling their eyes at him. Gabriel huffed and straightened his collar, though it of course wasn’t at all out of place. 

“Well let’s make it quick then. Did your humans…?”

A dangerous growl that Gabriel was glad wasn’t directed at him. “No. Idiots got scared off by whatever the bastard had set up. They all ran off anyways.”

“Well mine got the job done. They sent a little… encouragement, to that ratty bookshop Aziraphale insists on keeping.” Gabriel was practically preening and he knew it. Being able to show up Beelzebub in any way always put him in a positive mood. Thwarting the enemy and all that.

“It’d be easier if we could be direct,” Beezle growled. The flies swarming around the dumpster began to make their way over and Gabriel had to swat a few away with the back of his hand.

“Get a hold of yourself, Beez. You were there, you know the almighty was clear that neither one of us could interfere directly!” Using humans as a loophole had been Michael’s idea and so far there hadn’t been any repercussions. But this had only been a test, and since things had gone well…

“We can escalate though, yes?” they buzzed, the flies zipping around excitedly and a grin breaking out on their face. “My contacts from before have been... reprimanded appropriately, and we’re ready to move on whenever you are.”

Gabriel’s face morphed into a tight smile of his own. He always had admired his demonic counterpart’s willingness to get a job done, no matter the cost. Beelzebub was shrewd and cutthroat and if they hadn’t been one of Satan’s damned, Gabriel might have hired them for a position Upstairs.

“Yes, we can move on to phase 2. Give it a few weeks, I’ll send you a memo, and a calendar invite for the pre-briefing. It’s Heaven’s turn to cater so…” Which was a good thing, since last time when it’d been Hell’s turn the lettuce on the tea sandwiches had been mouldy. Gabriel didn’t partake in the gross matter but it was the principle of the thing! “Are we still on for that event in Berlin next Saturday?”

“You’re the one who said it’d be in both our best interests if it went well, so yeah, I’ll be there. Don’t get in my way.” Beelzebub threw up a rather rude hand gesture then disappeared through a door in one of the buildings. Gabriel spent a few extra minutes in the ally, pondering whether contacting the demon to make sure their chosen apparel didn’t clash, or if that might get him in more trouble than it was worth.

-

The hunger didn’t really go away. Crowley woke up almost every morning with a strong desire to get to the breakfast table that persisted throughout lunch and supper. Aziraphale enjoyed it as an opportunity to exercise his cooking skills, even if it did require him to spend more of his day in the kitchen than was usual. Crowley repaid him for his kindness of course, he’d bring in fresh flowers (though with the changing seasons, he was going to have to switch to gourds), or later in the day bring him cocoa and biscuits while the angel was working on restoring a book. Sometimes, after a particularly good supper, Crowley might drop to his knees under the table and thank Aziraphale in a different way that the angel liked just as much as any of the others. 

The change of season brought on a change in their routines as well. Since it was getting colder, Crowley spent a lot more of his time indoors curled up in front of the fireplace watching reality TV, or in bed taking long indulgent naps. When they’d first moved in together Crowley had tried to stay awake and active through the colder months, scared Aziraphale would be upset with him for lounging about. But after 10 years they’d come to an understanding. As long as Crowley made an effort to spend at least a little bit of time-conscious with the angel every day (barring very long naps, which were usually discussed beforehand), Aziraphale was happy. And Aziraphale being happy made Crowley happy which in turn made the colder months of the year much more pleasant for the demon. 

On a blustery November afternoon, Crowley was making a significant effort to be awake as Aziraphale showed him pictures of cribs on his own laptop. He never should have shown the angel pinterest, or Amazon. 

“So what do you think? I thought something traditional would be nice, and of course money isn’t really an object, and maybe there’s someone in town who does carpentry? But what about safety?” Crowley browsed the collections of cribs, and rocking chairs, and various baby paraphilia, trying to keep himself from drifting off. He’s set an alarm to wake him up just after midday in case he didn’t wake up naturally. Of course, he’d snoozed it a few times before dragging himself out of their bedroom and into the sitting room for a cuppa.

“Think we’ve seen thousands of babies make it just fine, even without all these fancy cribs and chairs and baskets. You know we can make just about anything safe if we want to, with wards and a good talking-to.” He paused on a simple crib made of light pine with gently scalloped finishings. “I know I’ve seen signs for ‘rustic’ furniture around the village, m’sure you could find someone to make one like this.”

“That would be lovely, wouldn’t it? It’s been a very long time since I had to make use of any woodworking skills, but I’m sure I could sketch something up for a professional to take a look at. Would you like to help, darling?” 

“Sure, go get us a pencil and paper then, and maybe a refill?” There’d be no more coffee since Aziraphale insisted he keep to under a cup a day, but maybe the angel would allow him some tea. Aziraphale gave him a beatific smile then rushed off to his stacks of stationery. Crowley secretly thought it was sweet how Aziraphale still wrote letters on his own custom paper, with fountain pens and a personalized wax seal. Over the millennia he’d gotten thousands of letters from the angel, and he kept each one in a lockbox that was now hidden in the back of their closet. Outwardly, Crowley rolled his eyes when Aziraphale returned, playing the part of out-upon husband as usual.

“Alright, you get a start on here then, while I make more tea. You’ve always been better at the arts than me anyway.” Debatable, but Crowley was too sleepy to really argue. He took a pen and some paper and began to doodle out crib-shaped creations. As the kettle whistled and Aziraphale hummed to himself his drawing moved towards the more specific, detailing little flower engravings for decoration along all the legs. When Aziraphale came back with the tea and some biscuits, Crowley had less of a sketch and more of a fully fleshed-out design.

“Oh Crowley! It’s gorgeous love,” Aziraphale exclaimed as he sat down to take a look. Crowley had barely been thinking about what he was drawing, instead letting his hands take over while his mind coasted in a half-dreaming state. “I love the flowers, and the wings on the corners. “You’re so creative.”

“Thanks angel,” Crowley murmured, looking at his own drawing like he was seeing it for the first time. He took a sip of tea from the cup Aziraphale passed him, relaxing back against his angel. “But I’m sure you can do it better, if you try.”

“Nonsense. I think it’s perfect. Maybe we could do a little more research, just to make sure it’s up to safety standards, just in case, but otherwise, I don’t think I’d change a thing.” Crowley would have argued if he wasn’t already half asleep again, his teacup leaning dangerously to the side. “Are you really so tired my dear? You should have said.”

“Wanted t’spend some time w’you,” he mumbled. The teacup was gone from his hands, presumably taken by Aziraphale, and a warm blanket draped around his shoulders. “Don’t want you t’be lonely.”

“My sweet demon,” Aziraphale cooed. “Thank you, you’re always thinking of me. But I think I’m going to read for a little while, if you’re like to take a nap. You can use my lap, if you’re like.” Crowley was already sliding down so he was horizontal, his head cushioned against Aziraphale thighs. The angel used one hand to turn the pages of the book resting on the arm of the sofa, the other slung low on Crowley’s hips. That hand wormed its way under Crowley’s sweater--soft cotton, with little devil horns on the hood--so he could touch the bare skin of his belly. 

“Love you,” Crowley hummed. Aziraphale wiggled a tiny bit, either in happiness or to get more comfortable, and sighed happily.

“I love you too, dear. Get some sleep.” And Crowley drifted off.

At first he was dreaming about the garden. Not the Garden, but his garden in the South Downs, at the cottage. It was summer, peak flowering period for some of his favourites and he was down on his knees at one of the smaller flower beds pulling weeds. The sun was exceedingly warm at the back of his neck but that was alright, he was nearly done. Then he could go inside and drink some of the lemonade Aziraphale had made earlier.

The dream oozed forward at a leisurely pace and he enjoyed every second. The sun slowly sank towards the horizon and the wind got a little chilly; it must have been later in the summer than he thought. Even though the weather was turning, he still felt warm though, an unfamiliar heat spreading from his core and out to his limbs. He looked down, almost expecting to see something silly like a hot water bottle--dream logic of course; even when he knew he was dreaming Crowley’s imagination got away from him--but instead saw his own body. And the baby bump.

“That you, Sprout?” he asked, his voice echoing strangely in the hazy dreamworld. “You’re very warm, taking after your Papa?”

A familiar wriggling, and something Crowley struggled to define. It almost reminded him of when we was still an angel, and he could sense love, a glowing joy from inside, spilling out through his cracks. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation, the dream’s slow pace lulling him into a sense of security. Here in his garden there was just him, the baby, and what felt like pure joy.

Crowley didn’t notice the dream shifting. The garden slowly getting darker and colder, the flowers wilting, shriveling, dying. Their cottage faded away, becoming an empty field, the sky a roiling grey. When Crowley opened his eyes and saw his surroundings, the oncoming storm whipping the dead grass and flowers all around, he knew. The warmth in his stomach pulled away and Crowley felt cold.

Something was coming.

Aziraphale was startled from deep in his reread of Frankenstein’s Monster by Crowley’s shuddering. Normally when the demon had a bad dream the first sign was a noise; a whimper or a shout that would alert Aziraphale to the situation so he could intervene. But even lacking the normal markers, the angel could tell something was wrong. Crowley was a very still sleeper, even if he did cling, and the erratic shaking and shivering he was doing right now certainly wasn’t normal.

“Crowley love, wake up. Shhh, it’s alright,” he said, loud enough to wake the other but softly enough to avoid startling him. He set his book aside and brought both hands into the equation, caressing and petting Crowley’s hair and shoulders. “Come on darling, time to wake up.”

“‘Zira? S’dark.” He didn’t sound upset, or panicked and Aziraphale let out a breath of relief. 

“You were only asleep for an hour, but the suns already set, given how late in the year it is,” Aziraphale explained, still petting Crowley’s hair. “Were you having a bad dream?”

Crowley rubbed his face against the angel’s belly, dispelling the sleep from his eyes. “Strange. I was in the garden, and then it was dark out. Could feel…” He stared down at his stomach. “I think I could feel them there.”

“Really?” Aziraphale meant to ask more about the dream, but was easily sidetracked by the news of the baby communicating. “In what way did you see them?”

“Not see, just felt them. They were warm. But then it got dark, and I felt like I was freezing, and the cottage was gone--” his voice got faster and faster, his breathing more shallow. To stop him flying off into a panic attack Aziraphale thread his fingers through Crowley’s hair again, not really tugging but still a firm presence. “And then I woke up. That's it, nothing exciting angel.”

Aziraphale hummed lowly, in the way he knew relaxed Crowley. “I’m a little jealous of you. For getting to feel them, not for having a nightmare.”

Crowley wiggled so that instead of just his head resting in Aziraphale lap, his entire upper body was laying across his legs. Then he grabbed the hand the angel didn’t have woven through his hair and pressed it to his stomach.

“S’the best I can do. Maybe if you concentrate you’ll feel it too?” Aziraphale tried his hardest, willing his entire celestial self to focus in on that one small area. Underneath his hands Crowley shuddered, but Aziraphale kept on searching until--

“Oh!” He could feel something, at least. It wasn’t really warm, like Crowley had said, but there was movement. It was reassuring to know they were there, and alive, and growing. “You’re amazing Crowley.”

“What, me?” Crowley laughed, thoroughly pleased with himself. The anxiety from the dream didn’t stand a chance against praise from Aziraphale. Still, Crowley looked like he was done sleeping, because he sat up and stretched languorously.  “S’a bit late to go out, but we could order in?”

“If you want. You’ll have to take a look at your application and see what’s available.” Somehow, despite being a ways out into the countryside they always had plenty of options for takeout. And they were well known by all the delivery persons as excellent tippers, so their food usually arrived on time or earlier than expected. “I’m not craving anything in particular.”

“Good, ‘cause I am. I want fries, and maybe a ceasar salad. Oh and falafel.” Crowley was already tapping wildly at his phone, presumably making his order. “And maybe something sweet, for after…”

“Cravings dear?” Aziraphale teased, nudging Crowley with one elbow like he used to do years ago, when they would walk through St. James’ Park. That was before the end that didn’t happen, when even the smallest contact between them was taboo. Now they could touch whenever they wanted, and so Aziraphale didn’t stop at just one nudge, instead choosing to lean heavily against Crowley so he could look at the screen, “The poor delivery person is going to have an awful lot of trouble carrying all that.”

Crowley just rolled his eyes and continued scrolling through his options. “So you don’t want bubble tea? I was going to get you taro flavour but if you think it’s too much--” 

“Now now let's not be hasty love. I'm sure a large tip will make up for any trouble on the driver’s end.” Crowley giggled. Aziraphale tucked the sound away in his memory with all the other cute things Crowley did but would never admit to. 

“I thought so. You can never resist, can you?” Refusing to be needled, Aziraphale decided to fire back. Crowley was so cuddly and soft; so completely unworried now that the nightmare had faded that he couldn’t resist. He nuzzled right underneath the other’s demon-sigil where he knew Crowley was extra sensitive and revelled in the full-body shudder it produced. 

“Why should I? There’s no shame in liking nice things.” Aziraphale let the implication hang. Crowley could still be touchy about being called nice or good outside of the bedroom depending on his mood. This time however, Crowley sighed and shimmied away a bit so he could show Aziraphale the screen.

“Whatever you say angel. Does this look good?” The order list was expansive, and probably much more than either of them would be able to  eat tonight. But that was alright, leftovers wouldn’t last long given Crowley’s new and voracious appetite. 

“Splendid love. I’ll go set the table?” It was really an excuse to get up and move. As much as Aziraphale loved cuddling and pampering his husband, he did tend to get restless. Now that Crowley was awake and relaxed he could get up and bustle about, working off all the energy that had built up while the demon napped. With the excitement of the baby coming Aziraphale had been finding it difficult to sit still and not rush about, preparing everything.

“Can’t we just eat here?” Crowley asked, sprawling into the warm space on the sofa left behind by the angel. Aziraphale smiled and passed his slothful demon the telly remote.

“No, I won’t have you drop tahini and falafel bits all over the carpet. You can eat at the table or not at all.” Crowley glared but there wasn’t really any real anger in it. In fact, it was quite cute, not that he’d ever say that out loud. Crowley would not tolerate being called cute, no matter how happy he was. 

“Fine, stuffy angel.” He turned the TV on and quickly navigated to NBC where Aziraphale knew they’d be playing Golden Girls at this hour. After one last fond look Aziraphale couldn’t stand still any longer, so he hurried off to get everything ready for their impromptu feast.

[wickednerdery]

Title: Hoarfrost Hel: Strained Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Thor, Valkyrie, The Grandmaster, & mutant!OCs Rating: Explicit Summary: “And what’s the plan...?” Notes: This is the second part of what’s shaping up to be a legit trilogy (the first is FrostBitten) - the master list is here. The story on whole is gonna be very dark, this piece - which picks up few (Sakaar) months after the last one - has very little in the manner of adult content, actually. For consistency and length, it gets a “Read More”.

"Woah, hey hey, what’s going on there?” Tony’s eyes narrow, unsure he’s seeing what he’s seeing. 

Lynk narrows eyes back. “What do you mean?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“The coding is correct, there are no errors.”

“Your hair, Lynk. What’s up with your hair?”

For months she’s kept visuals down, claiming it necessary for repairs. She’s spaced out replies to hide the quick passing of time. Tony’s been through enough, he’s done enough worrying about her, other Avengers, everything...she doesn’t want add to his troubles. 

“Lynk?”

She sighs, confesses. “Time moves different here.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, sometimes it feels faster, others at a stand still. Faster overall though.”

Tony takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “How long since we’ve last spoken? For you.”

“Four, maybe six, months.”

“Jesus Christ.” The paperclip he’s fiddling with snaps, he tosses it aside with a sigh. “You’ve been alone that whole time?”

“I have my assistant, Rags.”

“Your slave.”

“Assistant. I explained that.”

Tony starts to pace. “Yeah, yeah.” If he stays still he’ll feel all the more helpless. “But all this time, no Thor? Ash? Gabe?”

“I communicate with Ash.”

“Communicate?”

“Speak with.”

“And the others?”

“I know where they are.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere I can’t get to yet.”

“Meaning?”

“I’ll get to them later.”

“When?”

“When our plan works.”

He didn’t even wanna ask, but... “And what’s the plan, Lynk?”

Valkyrie can’t help but wonder what, exactly, Ash is planning. He’s gone from disobedient contender to the only other scrapper to compete with her. Beat her, on certain weeks. Of course it’s not just the sting of pride that makes her suspicious, it’s him going from openly opposing The Grandmaster to seeming to cater to the man. Grandmaster wants a Badoon contender, Ash finds him one. Grandmaster wants a Dire Wraith, Ash gets one of those. Worse yet, each of them seem eager to fight.

He selects carefully, using his abilities to pick out those who, at first glance, seem only eager to do battle and win The Contest of Champions. Yet, he stacks the deck in his - their - favor, finding those who can be directed elsewhere under a good leader. Someone like Thor, who Ash reassures this will work. This will work, if Thor can hold their respect and they follow him when the time is right.

Ash keeps tabs on Lynk through others at first, not daring to approach. Not with The Grandmaster’s people watching so closely, so ready to go for him. As he’s given more leeway he uses intermediaries and eventually she’s able to send him a bit of comms tech - one that only she can control.

“Lynk?” He mutters, knowing she’ll pick him up, clear as day.

“I’m on with Tony. He’s figured it out.”

“I’m not surprised, put us together.”

Lynk does and Tony immediately speaks. “What’s the plan, Ash?”

“You’re in no state of mind to discuss this with us, Mr Stark.” He remains polite as ever.

“Bullshit. Who says? You? Your powers aren’t that strong, Ash. Tell me what it is you’re planning now.”

“Just keep helping Lynk with the technology.”

“You’re going to get yourselves killed!” Tony snaps, breaths coming too fast. “Just leave, we’ll have S.H.I.E.L.D. send for Thor and Gabe, reassemble The Avengers.”

Ash smiles. “Lynk says you understand the time situation now, so you should realize they may get here too late.”

“Thor’s a god, Gabe as good as.” Without a touchpoint to what’s going on, Tony only thinks of physical dangers.

“You know better than most how time, events, can change people in profound ways. We wait on anyone from Earth, they may end up saving very different people.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Tony states flatly, thinking of Lynk  - who cannot survive what Thor and Gabe can - over the others.

“Well, I’m not.” Ash counters firmly. “Lynk, cut his feed, we need to talk privately”

Lynk hesitates as Tony insists he be kept on. “I...” But she knows what’ll be better in the long run. “I’ll call back later, Tony.” She disconnects him mid-rage. “He’s going to hate you,” she says to Ash.

“I can take it.” 

“Did you find the being you were looking for?”

“Yes, I’m going to see them now. Tomorrow I’ll find you. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Is Rags?”

“He says yes.”

“Good.”

“What if you can’t change her mind?”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Ash’s gone this long without using violence, he’d hate to have to with someone who might not completely deserve it. Yet, sensing distrust nearby, he looks around and finds her watching him as she drinks and realizes...He might have to.

Just speeding up time - it is Sakaar after all - and letting ya’ll know how things are for Lynk and Tony (and Rags). As you can see, Ash and Lynk have at least reconnected on some level since being separated and are, in fact, working together on an escape plan for all of them. I think Tony was unknowingly part of it as he helps Lynk with tech stuff, but now he’ll have to make the choice if he stays out of it or goes all in on his end. Valkyrie remains a bit of a wild card, but Ash has plans to “handle” her as well - preferably without violence, but that may end up being up to her, LOL!!

Gifs found on Google, adjusted/combined by me.

Tagged: @chibiyanai​ @lady-crowned-with-stars​ @moonfaery​ @annievvv7​ @ladyfluff​ @holykryptonitekitten​ @lokilvrr​​ @janebrownnie​​ @lokis-little-kitten​​ @alexakeyloveloki​​ @theangelsfightwithdevils​​ @the-blue-tiefling​​ @lokis-lady-death​​ @dangertoozmanykids101​​  @prometheasmother​​ @vethrvolnir @wintertink​​ @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @drakonwild​​ @starscreamloki​​ @judas-nipples @hiddles-rose​​  @the-lady-witchitery​​ @galaxies-inside-my-head​​ @jackheart180 @lukeevansandjdmobession​​ @endlessstairway​​ @lanabanana-86 @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981​​ @lovekrystina​​ @madoka73​​ @lokikingofasgardslover713​​ @partiallyinthecloset​​ @ultrarebelheart​​  @gravitational-anomaly @manip-loki​​ @sweetfictionalworld​​ @lowcarbgem @tarithenurse​​ @boredbrooder​​ @beccaliciooouuusss​​ @michellearel1​​ @toozmanykids​ …This is everyone from the original tag list, if you want on or off, just lemme know! (Strike-throughs are those Tumblr refused to tag properly)

[theangriestpea]

The Killing Type | One

Summary: Just when Lavender thought things were going great with Sweet Pea, a new girl comes back to turn to turn their entire relationship upside down. Now they have to navigate a world of drug dealers, rival gangs, and co-parenting. Sequel to Mercy Killing. <ao3> <masterlist> 

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Sweet Pea x OC // eventual Jughead Jones x OC

Warnings: referenced teen pregnancy, referenced sexual assault, cheating/lying, PTSD  

Word Count: 5k+

A/N: I cannot believe I wrote this is such a short amount of time, omg. As stated on the final chapter of Mercy Killing, this is a sequel to both Mercy Killing and @the-gargoyle-queen​‘s fic Young Gods. The timelines for both are a little screwed up to make them converge. We begin this series at the end of sophomore year with no time between Mercy Killing chapter 16 and Chapter 1 of The Killing Type, and one year after Young Gods. Try not to focus too much on the lack of continuity for the sake of future plot. I think Lily is a bit OOC in this chapter....I made her into an uber bitch and she's not.

Chapter One - A Mercy Killing 

Lavender stared at Jughead, not at all understanding what he meant by forgiving Sweet Pea. What had he done this time? Of course the two fought more often than not over petty things but they made up hours, sometimes minutes later. It was just their dynamic. “Who is she?” She pressed as he looked at his buzzing phone again.

“Lily is Sweet Pea’s ex but I think he should really be the one to tell you all of it.” He said, his anxiety starting to show with his tone of voice. Lav made a face that he couldn't quite tell what it meant. “Listen, just try to get his side of things before exploding on him, okay?”

She stiffened, not liking his accusation of her tendency to react dramatically to any inconvenience no matter how minor. “Why did no one tell me about her? All this time and I’ve literally never even heard her name before. I don’t understand what the big deal is!” Her voice started to edge on the side of frantic as panic began to flood through her. Who was this girl and why did no one mention her?

Jughead sighed. “It’s complicated, Lav. Sweet Pea told us not to mention her around him. We all agreed that it would be better for you and him if you just didn’t know what went down between them.”

“So, everyone collectively decided that I, Sweet Pea’s girlfriend, didn’t need to know about someone who was obviously very important to him? Why is he hiding her from me, does he still have feelings for her or something?” She asked, her tone turning accusatory. Jughead put his hands up to try and calm her down, but instead she stood. “Whatever, Jug. I’m going home. Have fun talking to your new best friend.”

“She’s not-!” Before he could finish she had slammed the door behind her. Jughead sighed and sunk down into the old couch. Things were about to get a lot more complicated.

Lavender made a bee-line for her trailer as fast as her short legs would carry her. She was fuming at the thought that everyone kept some big secret from her, and worse of all she was dying to know what it was. She sent a quick text to Sweet Pea, demanding he come over to “come clean” when he was done with his job. Sweet Pea, being ever the oblivious asshole, had no idea what he needed to come clean about but figured the purple haired girl would fill him in when he got there.

Hours later, once Sweet Pea was done running bike parts to Centerville, he walked into the Rhodes trailer having no idea what shit storm was about to be thrown at him.

First of all, he found his girlfriend curled up on the couch in a state of drunkenness that he hadn’t seen her in in many months. Immediately he thought something had happened, she had a PTSD episode or someone made threats. In an instant he was by her side, her thin shoulders in his hands to get her to look at him.

“Who is she?” Lav slurred, eyes red from crying. Every worst case scenario had gone through her head. Was he cheating on her? Did he have some other life that she had no clue about and he was keeping it from her? How could this girl that she knew nothing about cause her so much grief?

Sweet Pea’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Who is who?” He asked, having no inkling of what in the world she was talking about. “Why did you drink so much?”

“Lily Owens.” Lav spat hotly, “Who is she?!” Her voice began to raise with notes of hysteria. She was so worked up and heartbroken and she had no idea why.

His blood ran cold as he stared at her. He had hoped that he could have approached the subject of his ex eventually, when the time was right. But Lavender was so god damn sensitive that he didn’t think that time would ever come. The insecurity she felt after the attack by the Ghoulies was so great that sometimes he felt trapped in that even talking to a girl she didn’t know had her upset.

They had a long talk about it once and she agreed to get it handled in therapy. And she did get better but there were times when he knew she just couldn’t help it. They had broken her so thoroughly that it was going to take time. He sighed softly, trying not to show how aggravated he was. “She’s my ex, Shanna. I was going to wait to tell you this but...She’s coming back to town in a few days and she needs a place to stay...with our daughter.”

“Your what?” Lav asked, somehow finding the fact that he had a child with another woman was way worse than him cheating on her. “You had a kid and never thought to tell me?!” Fresh tears came to her eyes and quickly fell down her face that was flushed pink from inebriation. “Don’t you think that was something I’d need to know?”

He flinched, feeling the hurt roll off of her in waves. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d overreact!”

“Overreact?!” She yelled, her voice finally raising. “Are you fucking kidding me?! You kept a whole ass family secret from me, Sweet Pea! Get out. Just get OUT.”

His eyes narrowed as he stood, releasing his grip from her. “You always do this! You always fly off of the goddamn handle over every little thing. So I have a daughter, so what? I’ve never even met her! Lily ran off pregnant and had her without me there, so yeah I don’t bring it up because I’d rather not think about being a dad at sixteen! You’re not the only fucked up person in this relationship!”

She stared at him with stunned silence and he knew he had gone too far, as he always did. Sweet Pea just huffed angrily before turning and leaving in a manner exactly as she had from the Jones trailer earlier that day.

The next two days, Lavender spoke to no one. Not Jughead, Not Fangs, and especially not Sweet Pea. He hadn’t even bothered to text or to call as she was always the one to give in first. Still, the fact that he wasn’t even trying to patch things up between them only served to hurt her more.

Fangs had left her small apologetic presents at her doorstep. Flowers, snack cakes, chocolate, even a bottle of her favorite rum. While she accepted the gifts, she still refused to speak to him. His messages were all left on read.

Jughead and Toni had both sent only one apology text, while both seemed pretty heartfelt, they were also denied any kind of answer from her. It was only after an hour and a half long intense therapy session did she decide to try and make up with all of them. Her therapist had helped her realize that Sweet Pea was put in a difficult position from the start of their relationship with her trauma and intense insecurity. In the end, she concluded that he wasn’t purposefully trying to hurt her. He was trying to save her. It just ended up blowing up in his face.

She had picked up a carton of Marlboros for him and was walking up to his trailer. She didn’t notice whether or not his bike was on the side of the house, and dismissed the beaten up car parked on the street as a neighbor’s. It could have easily been someone else’s. Or maybe his dad was finally out of rehab?

Knowing that he was possibly still upset with her, she chose not to use her key to walk in. Instead she knocked on the door in her usual fashion and waited, cigarettes in hand. What she didn’t expect (but totally should have) was for a teenage girl to open the door.

She was shorter than Lav by about an inch, brunette, and absolutely stunning. Lavender's heart fell into her stomach. “O-Oh,” She stuttered, “I thought-”

“He’s not home.” The girl said in a somewhat flat tone. She had learned all about the person in front of her from Jughead. He filled her in on all of Sweet Pea’s doings while she was gone. “But you can come in and wait for him. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The door opened wider and Lavender looked inside, noticing that now the trailer was littered with baby clothes, toys, and assorted things necessary to take care of a child. The scene made it all too clear to Lavender that Lily, who she assumed opened the door, was now living with Sweet Pea. Suddenly she was breaking all over again and the progress she made in therapy was virtually gone.

“I should go.” Lavender mumbled, unsure of where she fell in this new hierarchy. “Can you just tell him that I came by? I need to talk to him.”

“You’re Lavender, right?” Lily asked and she nodded in response. “I’m Lily. I think we should talk. Come in, it’ll be easier than standing out here. Daisy is asleep so don’t worry about her.”

Lav did not at all feel comfortable talking to her, but the backfiring of a nearby car put her so on edge that she had no choice but to hide inside. She felt idiotic by being set off at a time like this. The intense need to hide somewhere where she felt safe overrode her discomfort with the situation at hand.

Lily seemed to have some knowledge of what was going through the other girl’s head. She noticed her jump and frantically check her surroundings at the loud sound. Jughead and mentioned her PTSD and that Lily should tread carefully for the time being. After knowing what happened with the Ghoulies, Lily ultimately felt pity for Lavender and not contempt...Though if she were completely honest, there was a little of that too.

It was clear to Lily that Lavender was very disoriented by the sudden amount of baby things around the living room, as well as an open suitcase that had all of Lily’s belongings in them.

The current girlfriend sat down on the chair that Sweet Pea fell asleep in way too often and sunk down into the cushions as if she were trying to disappear from sight. Lily took a seat on the couch, wondering if the awkwardness was going to go away any time soon.

“So you live here?” Lav finally asked, nearly flinching under the look Lily gave her. The question seemed much too obvious, of course she was living here. She had nowhere else to go.

“Yes.” Lily said, her voice a little more curt than she initially intended. “We needed a place to stay since my mom stayed in Toledo. Sweet Pea said it was okay. Is there a problem with that?”

“No! Not at all.” Lavender said quickly, wishing she had turned and ran when she had the chance. “Sweet Pea just didn’t tell me…”

Lily huffed, of course he didn’t. “We need to talk about that.” Of course, she still had residual feelings for the serpent. He was the father of her child. And the way he had ended things were so messed up. Plus he had said when she came back they could start all over. Obviously that wasn’t going to happen now.

“I get that you’re his girlfriend now. I mean, I never expected him to pick a Northsider over…” She stopped, seeing the hurt expression on Lavender’s face brought on a wave of guilt. “You really had no idea about me, did you?”

“No…” Lav said, her voice so soft that Lily almost didn’t hear it. “We never talked about past relationships. Look, I really need to go. Can you just give these to him for me?” She asked, motioning towards the carton of cigarettes in her lap.

“When did you start dating?” She asked, her tone serious.

“Three months ago but we hooked up the July before that….” Lav admitted, not wanting to withhold anything.

“July?” Lily asked and Lav sensed the anger in her voice. “I knew he was cheating on me. I knew it.” She hissed under her breath, not meaning for Lav to actually hear her.

Pain ripped through Lavender’s chest. He had still been in a relationship with Lily that night? She felt like she was going to throw up. She abruptly stood. “I-I’m sorry, I…” She didn’t know what she could say to make any of this better.

“I’m not blaming you.” Lily quickly said after a small sigh. “You didn’t know….How could you have known that I was about to give birth to his daughter? Of course he’s so fucking selfish he didn’t even say anything about it to either of us.”

Lav was holding back tears to the best of her ability. The thought of being the other woman, even for just one night, made her want to lock herself up and drink herself into oblivion. Really she only stayed away from the unhealthy coping mechanism when Sweet Pea was around. Right now, it didn’t seem as if he’d have time to be around for very long. He had a baby to take care of.

“I’m sorry,” She apologized again, really just having no idea how to handle this situation. She backed towards the door, reaching for the handle when it swung open. Sweet Pea was there, looking as tired as ever. A confused look crossed his face when he saw the tears threatening to fall from Lavender’s eyes.

“Shanna?” He asked, not knowing what Lily had done to make her upset...if she had done anything. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to apologize but.” She was too upset to be angry at anyone other than herself. “I need to go home. I got you some cigarettes...here.” She shoved them into his hands before nimbly squeezing past him and running off.

Sweet Pea looked down at the carton before looking up at Lily. “What did you do ?” He asked, his voice threatening to raise.

“You slept with her before you broke up with me.” Lily said, her voice low but angry. “You didn’t end things until August. You said, you said we could start over if I came back, Sweet Pea. You promised me that we would try for Daisy.”

He felt utterly lost. He had loved Lily so much but her leaving had him feeling so alone that he needed something . His dad had started his first stint in rehab and had been in and out since. He was so completely alone with no one to hold at night. Initially he had felt terrible about it but the guilt went away because in the end she had left him when she said she never would.

“You left, Lily. What did you expect?” He asked, his voice icy. “You abandoned me like everyone else did. How did you think I could continue to love you after that?” Her hand reared back and slapped him hard across the face, the sound bouncing off the walls of the trailer. And deep down he knew that he deserved nothing less.

Lavender returned to her trailer, attempting to put herself back together. She had truly wanted to work things out with Sweet Pea and didn’t have the strength to curse him to hell when she saw him. And the look on his face when he saw her. Past his confusion was definite regret. The softness of his eyes made her want nothing more than to be held by him. She wasn’t sure if that was ever going to happen now.

She eyed the bottle of rum on her kitchen counter and she knew that she should resist it’s calls. Did she really want to wake up with a hangover tomorrow? It seemed better than feeling heartbroken at his point.

As she reached for it, she heard a knock on her door. Lav let out a sigh of relief to have been stopped before she drowned herself yet again. She went to the door to see her boyfriend standing there, looking equal parts pissed off and broken down. His left cheek was bright red and starting to bruise and she knew that Lily must have hit him.

She said nothing as she opened the door for him and he walked in, hands clenched into fists. He was clearly agitated but not at her. That was evident enough in him not screaming at her when she opened the door. He saw the bottle of alcohol sitting out in the open and made a straight line to it.

Lav felt as if she were about to cry again, this time for him. Because like her, Sweet Pea also had a habit of hitting the bottle when he felt like the lowest of the low. Of course, she was still very much heart broken by his actions before but seeing him in pain was a whole new kind of ache. It was one that she found herself hating more.

“Wait,” She called out just as he grabbed the bottle by the neck. “Pea, can we talk first? I promise not to yell at you…” Her voice showed her weakness, but she didn’t really mind since he was the one hearing it.

Sweet Pea let out a tired sigh and nodded. He carried the bottle to the couch and sat down with a heavy thud, keeping the rum in hand as if in case of emergency. Lav gently sat down next to him, turned sideways on the seat to face him fully. “Can you just...explain to me what’s going on?”

“I fucked up.” Sweet Pea said, scowling at himself, “again.”

She knew his biggest fear right now was her leaving him. While she thought she had abandonment issues, his own were far worse. “Just tell me what happened.” She said, her voice gentle to show that her being upset wasn’t as important as what was going on with him currently.

“I loved her, you know? I didn’t mean for her to get pregnant.” Sweet Pea said, his voice extremely quiet. He very rarely opened up like this. And him doing it sober was a first. “Then she left. She left like everyone else leaves. And you’re probably going to leave too because I always mess everything up. I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend or baby daddy or whatever. I’m just a teenager. I just don’t know.”

Lav put a hand on his leg, moving closer to him as a few stray tears escaped her eyes. “I’m not leaving you. I just want to know everything. That’s it. I’m sorry I blew up on you the other day. I should have let you have a chance to explain. It seems that I don’t know how to be a good girlfriend either…”

He let out another sigh as he set the bottle down on the table in front of him and pulled her into his arms. He hated for anyone to see him like this, but he hated being alone even more.

He buried his face into her blonde roots and just breathed in the scent of her vanilla shampoo. Lav nuzzled her face into his chest, listening to him breathe. "I told her I'd try, Shanna. Before you. Before everything. I promised her."

Lavender squeezed her eyes shut, having no idea why she was going to say what she was about to. "If you have to," she couldn't even say it. "I understand, Sweet Pea. It's okay. I'll be okay."

That wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he appreciated her willingness all the same. "Can I stay here tonight? One last time?"

She couldn't stop the silent tears from coming and in truth she didn't want to. "Of course, Pea. One last time."

The next morning, Lavender awoke to find herself alone in her bed. The spot where Sweet Pea had slept the night before was still warm. She sighed softly, not having the emotional energy to even cry over the loss of their intimate relationship. Could they even function as friends? They weren’t friends before they started dating, so how could she expect them to be after? She had no idea what she was going to do without him by her side almost every night. Perhaps it was time to talk to Fangs again.

She called him over after attempting to shower the sadness off of her. She put on clean underwear and lounge-wear as she waited for him to come over. Fangs came crashing through the door like a puppy who had missed his owner, grinning at her and quickly making his way to the couch.

He stopped grinning when he saw the forlorn expression on her face. “What’s wrong, babe?” He asked, taking her hands into his.

“We broke up last night.” She muttered. “Because he...he promised Lily before we were together that they could start over when she returned.”

Fangs was frowning. While he loved both Lily and Sweet Pea, he had long since come to the conclusion that they were much better as friends and not as lovers. But, he also knew that Sweet Pea intended to keep any promise he had made if he could. And though he could tell his friend was visibly upset, he was surprised to not find her crying and drinking. Despite it being only ten AM.

“I wish I had told you, Lavie.” He said in a quiet voice, pulling her into his chest to try and soothe the heart he knew to be aching in her chest. “I’m so sorry. You deserved to know. I just thought...you were doing so well…”

“It’s okay, Fangs.” She mumbled, her voice muffled by his t-shirt. “You had made a promise too. I just...I just don’t know where to go from here. I mean, I thought that I might...you know…”

He pulled her away, looking over her flushing face. “That you might love him?”

She groaned, “please don’t say it out loud. It sounds so stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He bit back, almost angrily. “It’s not stupid at all. Come on, let’s go to the quarry. It’s finally warm enough to swim!”

Lavender froze. She had many plaguing thoughts about wearing a bathing suit in front of others. While all her wounds had healed perfectly well, she still had long, thick bands of scar tissue across her thighs and stomach, with a few smaller ones on her chest. Sweet Pea was so far the only one she had let see them since she was able to shower alone and clothe herself. The thought of anyone else possibly seeing them made her sick to her stomach.

“I don’t feel like getting wet, I just took a shower.” She lied, hoping he wouldn’t call her on it. Unfortunately today was not a day that Fangs was feeling particularly intuitive.

He cocked his head to the side, “but you love to swim. It’ll cheer you up!”

“I don’t have a bathing suit that fits.” She lied again, hoping that maybe he’d either catch the hint or drop it. “My boobs got bigger over the winter and mine are all too small now.”

His eyes looked at her chest as if to examine it. If it were anyone else, she’d be offended, however it was him so she knew it was not meant to be explicitly lewd. “They look about the same to me. You can always wear a bra or something instead.”

Lavender wanted to hit him upside the head for being so dense. She knew he wasn't purposefully being obtuse but it was still grating her nerves. “Fangs. I don’t want to go swimming.” Her voice was a little more firm now in an attempt to get through to him.

A puppy-dog look crossed his face as he pouted at her. “But...Lavie...it’ll be fun…You can wear some of my trunks if you want?”

She let out a sigh of defeat, “alright. Bring me some with a drawstring so I can tie them tight otherwise they’ll just fall right off.” His pout was replaced with a broad smile as he all but cheered with success.

Fangs left but was back five minutes later with a pair of black swim trunks for her. He happily handed them over as she went into her room to change. She put on a purple bikini, which still fit perfectly fine, before putting on his pants. She then put on an old form-fitting T-shirt that kept all of her scar tissue covered.

As she looked herself over in the mirror, she frowned. She looked utterly ridiculous but it was better than exposing the truth. She didn’t want anyone to be reminded of that day back in early January.

She finally came out of the bedroom to see Fangs packing a bag of snacks and a cooler of beer for them. “Jones and Topaz are meeting us there. I hope that’s okay.” He said, his back turned to her.

“That’s fine…” Lav mumbled awkwardly. She had already forgiven them as well, and hoped that they’d help her forget about her ruined love life.

They made it to the quarry, the sun shining high above them. Toni and Jughead were on the small beach, clad in their swim gear already. They both gave Lavender strange looks at her attire. “My, uh...bikini doesn’t fit anymore.” She said, but the only one to catch the lie this time was Toni who gave her a worried look.

“Lily will be here in a few with Daisy.” Jughead said as he typed a message onto his phone. A panicked look crossed Lavender’s face.

“Jughead...why would you do that?” She asked as Toni elbowed him in the ribs. He looked up, appearing like a deer in headlights. It hadn’t really occurred to him how awkward it might be for her. Really he just wanted to hang out with her, having missed her all these months. It had almost been a full year since he’d seen her last.

Toni sighed, obviously aggravated by his lack of thought. “Lily is cool, Lavie. Don’t worry about her.”

Lavender tried not to think about their only interaction. Lily had called her a Northsider, reminiscent of Sweet Pea back before they were dating. It was an insult that she hated. She couldn’t help that she had grown up mostly on the Northside or that she didn’t dress like a typical Serpent. She enjoyed soft colors a bit too much and flannel looked terrible on her.

“Okay.” Lav forced herself to say as she plucked a can of beer out of the cooler Fangs had brought. “I guess meeting Sweet Pea’s daughter would be kind of cool.”

“That’s the spirit!” Fangs said cheerfully as he stripped off his shirt. “Let’s go!”

He attempted to pull her into the water. “Fangs! I’m trying to drink, I’ll join you in a minute!” She pleaded with him, trying her best not to spill any PBR in the process.

“Oh fine, you have five minutes so you better chug it or I’m throwing you in.” He let her go, shaking his head before him and Toni raced to the water.

Jughead was quiet. “You broke up with him.” He said, his voice low so that the others wouldn’t hear. “So he could be with Lily….”

“Yea.” Lav replied as she took a gulp from the can.

"I know why you're wearing that ridiculous get-up, Lavie." He mumbled to her. "You don't have to hide it from us. I'm sure they're barely noticeable."

She frowned, refusing to look at him. "I didn't want to come at all. This was a compromise with Fangs. He was too dumb to figure it out."

Jughead grabbed a beer for himself and sat down, motioning her to join him. She sat down next to him on the makeshift log bench. "Figures. At least his heart is in the right place."

They watched Toni and Fangs splash one another. "How are you holding up, really?" He finally asked.

She opened her mouth to answer when she saw Sweet Pea, Lily, and Daisy approaching, she quickly shut it. "Don't worry about it." She said, throwing her head back to finish off the beer in her hand.

Jughead frowned, wanting her to open up but also knowing that she wouldn't now. Who knows if she ever would. He knew that the progress she had made was about to backslide thanks to her and Sweet Pea no longer being together. Despite the rocky beginning, they truly were good for one another.

He wanted to say something encouraging, but failed at the sight of Lily. This did not go unnoticed by Lavender who was sure to bring it up later.

Sweet Pea wouldn’t look at her. He was carrying Daisy, who at nine months looked exactly like him. Lavender wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to stand the sight. Her chest was so heavy that she was worried that she’d sink when she got into the water. If she got into the water.

Lily gave her a strange look. “Are those Fangs’?” She asked, nodding her head towards the trunks Lav was wearing. It wasn’t mean spirited, rather just honest curiosity.

“Yea. My bikini is too small so I asked to borrow his shorts.” Lavender said, her tone even and not bearing any ill will. The atmosphere surrounding them was completely uncomfortable and Lav had no idea what to say.

“Jug, can I talk to her alone for a minute?” Lily asked, her voice gentle and there was a small smile on  her face. Jughead nodded and stood, patting Lav on the back briefly before walking closer to the shoreline.

Sweet Pea glanced at the two of them, wanting to listen to whatever Lily had to say but also knowing she’d probably yell at him if he did. He begrudgingly moved towards the water with his very excited little girl.

Lily waited until both boys were out of earshot. She turned and looked at Lavender who was toeing the dirt with the tip of her shoe. “Thank you.” Lily said, her voice genuine. “You didn’t have to break up with him.”

Lavender couldn’t help the hurt sigh that left her, “Yes I did. He made a promise and I wanted him to keep it.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to because I’m not taking him back.” Lily said. She wasn't hostile but there was anger hidden somewhere in her tone. Lavender mistook it to be directed towards her when it was truthfully towards Sweet Pea. “He cheated on me. And to be honest, I can’t be sure that he won’t do it again.”

“You left him.” Lavender said back, jumping to his defense. “What did you expect?”

Lily’s gaze hardened. “I expected some common decency from the man who told me he loved me. What I didn’t expect is for him to stick his dick in someone else just because things between us got hard. All he had to do was talk to me. He could have broken it off first before pursuing other people.”

Lavender was sitting rigidly on the log, daring to look up at Lily. Her hazel eyes encapturing a mixture of rage and pain. But Lily wasn’t done. “I’m sorry for what the Ghoulies did to you, I am. But he can’t fix you. And it’s not fair to put that responsibility on him either. He needs to be a father to Daisy right now. That’s what’s important.”

She was speechless, unable to come up with anything to say in return. While Lily had a valid point, it hurt tremendously to hear it. Lavender stood and Lily backed up to give her space. “This was a mistake.” She said, obviously talking about coming to the quarry. She took a few steps before stopping and turning back towards Lily. “And for the record. You don’t know a single thing about me. So maybe you should stop assuming the type of relationship I had with Sweet Pea. That’s between us. Not you.”

She turned back, grabbing Fang’s keys from his pile of things and leaving. The only one to notice her departure was Sweet Pea, who failed to mask the pained expression on his face at the sight of her go.

-----------

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[spoon-writes]

Ends of the Earth | Chapter 19

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse, and soon they travel across the galaxy looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 19 - Shelter

“No!”

With a sigh, Sinead grabbed the little pincushion previously balanced on her leg and pulled it out of reach of the child, who had been in the middle of pulling out one of the needles. No matter where she put it, he always found a way to get his hands on it.

She was mending a rip in her shirt, grateful for the distraction from the flurry of thoughts that kept running through her head without ever coming to any real conclusion. It was exhausting how she kept getting pulled in different directions, one second happy, the next ready to crawl under her thin blanket and never come out again.

Eventually, she grabbed some needle and thread and started on some of her clothes that were more hole than fabric at this point. It felt good concentrating on something, the repetitive movement of the needle strangely calming.

The child sat beside her and followed every movement with his big, bottomless eyes.

She had just finished the last stitch when, without warning, all light flickered off. The ship started shaking violently, and she dropped the shirt to grab the kid before he fell off the bunk. Somewhere in the pitch-black something crashed to the floor. 

As quickly as it had begun, the shaking stopped and left behind an eerie silence. The telltale hum of the engine was gone.

Sinead pressed a hand to her forehead and breathed out slowly, trying to still her hammering heart.

The kid giggled.

“Oh, you think this is funny, huh?”

He babbled a reply.

“Okay, then.”

Carefully, Sinead got up with the kid safely tucked into her arms and made her way over to the ladder, where she climbed into the cockpit one slow step at a time. The ship was entirely dead.

The cockpit was bathed in a cold blue glow from a star directly ahead, with a single planet orbiting it.

“What happened? Is that Zessol?”

Mando unfurled from where he had been crouched under the control panel, with a small torch affixed to his helmet. The light reflected off his armor. “I don’t know. Ship suddenly lost power and dropped out of hyperspeed.” He disappeared under the controls again.

Sinead strapped the kid into his seay and plopped down onto her own. It was too dark to go poking around the controls, and she would probably be more hindrance than help.

“Damn it!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The energy cycler got fried when we dropped out of hyperspace.”

“Can you unfry it?”

“… maybe.” Mando got to his feet, mumbling a long string of Mando’a. He went to the navicomputer and pulled off a metal panel underneath it, exposing a mess of wires. After a couple of minutes, it sparked, and the controls lit up, piercing red in the darkness.

"Life support's back on. At least we won’t suffocate."

"We still might," Mando said, trying and failing to turn on the engine. "The star's interfering with the comm system. I can't send out an SOS."

"Aren't you just a ray of sunshine," Sinead mumbled, trying to keep the growing worry at bay. She reached for the kid. "You okay, space bug?"

The kid babbled a string of nonsense, seeming totally unconcerned about their situation.

Suddenly, the ship lurched forward, catching Sinead off guard, and she hurriedly strapped herself into her chair. The turbines were still off, but Mando had managed to patch into the back thrusters, slowly sending the ship towards the planet which seemed pitch black against the backdrop of the star.

"You think we can make it in time?"

"We have to.”

The planet slowly turned green the closer they got, details appearing the closer they got. As the ship entered the planet's orbital pull, it started shaking so hard that Sinead's teeth rattled.

She had to force the words out of her mouth. “You sure you can land it?”

Mando didn’t reply. She was grateful for that.

The green surface turned into a forest that had to span most of the planet’s surface. Very slowly, Mando let the Crest drop inch by inch until it flew just above the canopy. Sinead held her breath.

Finally, Mando spotted a clearing and angled the ship towards it. They touched down with an echoing boom, sending Sinead’s head spinning from the sudden stop.

Stepping out of the ship was like stepping into another world; light came down through the leaves, creating flickering shadows on the ground whenever the wind rustled through the trees. A thick layer of decomposing leaves made the ground feel soft and swallowed the sound of Sinead's footsteps as she walked off the ramp. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. There were no soldiers to fight, no arena to infiltrate, no droids to smash. For a moment, there was only the breeze and the sweet smell of earth.

The peace was broken by Mando, who let out a frustrated grunt. He ducked under the ship and was poking around a bit of exposed machinery, the covering lying on the ground by his feet.

"Doesn't look good?" Sinead said even though she already knew the answer.

Mando slotted the cover back into place with more force than necessary. "The cooling unit is shot. We won’t get through the atmosphere without it.”

"I don't suppose you have a cooling unit lying around somewhere, do you?"

He pointedly ignored her. “I think there’s still enough power to scan the planet. Watch the kid, okay?”

The child came shuffling down the ramp, his big eyes growing bigger as he took in the new surroundings. When his feet hit the ground, he bent down and buried his hands in the dirt. After a moment he pulled out a fat worm that wriggled furiously in his hand.

“Hey, no, don’t-“

She started running, but it was too late. The kid popped the worm, dirt and all, into his mouth.

“No!” Lifting him up, she gave him her most stern look. “No. Spit it out.”

The kid gave her a toothy smile.

“Spit … oh what the hell. I have no idea what you are, you could just as well have an entirely worm-based diet.”

Mando appeared in the opening of the ship and looked up at the bright sky. “The closest settlement is about a day's travel. You two can stay here.”

Sinead looked at the quiet ship and chewed on her lower lip. Staying an entire day in one place with only the kid for company meant a long time for certain thoughts to sit and fester. "Or we could go with you. The kid's been cooped up in the ship for too long anyway, all that recycled air can't be good for him."

As if on cue, the child started wiggling in her grasp.

"He'll slow us down."

"I've already waited five years. What're a few extra hours."

Mando watched her for an uncomfortable amount of time, long enough that Sinead started to wonder if she had offended him somehow before he shrugged and disappeared into the ship.

She and the kid waited outside while he gathered supplies. They weren't stocked for a trek through the wilderness, but if the weather kept up and the undergrowth stayed as sparse, it wouldn't be a problem. Once he was ready, they set out in the direction of the settlement, walking slowly while the kid ambled back and forth between them. He kept wandering in front of Sinead whenever something caught his attention, and when he stopped to watch a sprawling anthill, she let out a huff.

"I told you it'd be slow."

"It’s fine."

They walked on in silence. The forest teemed with invisible life; birds hid in the treetops where they trilled out a warning as the trio passed by; somewhere far off, an animal bleated, and the sound echoed between the trees. When was the last time she’d felt this calm? Not since before Loovria, at least.

That reminded her ...

"You never told me why you hate droids. Back on Loovria."

"I ... didn’t." He fell silent again until Sinead was starting to regret asking. Then again, he had heard her tragic backstory; now it was time to hear his.

"I was ..." he paused again. They passed a lone dead tree that shed white bark in thick curls. "I wasn't born a Mandalorian. My village was attacked by droids. The Mandalorians took me in. Trained me in the Fighting Corps." He spoke slowly like every word had to be carefully considered.

She chanced a quick glance at him, even though his helmet would reveal nothing. He walked stiffly and kept his helmeted face turned away from Sinead.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

He shrugged.

"You know ..." she said without being sure how to continue. The words hung in the air while she wracked her brain for something to add. "I'm Corellian, but I've only been to the planet a handful of times. My mother hated the place, she never wanted to tell me why. My father was a real Corellian, would've spent the rest of his life among the stars if he could.” And in a way, he got his wish in the end. "Now there isn't really any reason to go back." She honestly didn't know why she was telling him this.

Mando was quiet for a long time. He finally looked at her, head slightly tilted to the side. "Sinead doesn't sound like a Corellian name."

That wasn't quite what she’d expected. "That’s because it's not. I’m named after an Alderaanian woman who saved my mother’s life. She got wounded behind enemy lines, and Alderaanian Sinead dragged her to safety. My mother was never the sentimental type, but I guess getting carried through hostile territory for days leaves an impact."

"She was a soldier?"

"A mercenary. Didn't like being called a soldier, which I always thought was a bit backward. My father was a pilot, ran cargo most of his life." She wanted to ask about his parents but figured she wouldn't press her luck. "He taught me how to fly. It's a shame you won't let me touch the Crest."

"You have flown it."

"Once. And that doesn't count! Your arm was hanging on by a thread; it was either that or stay on Loovria and get eaten by a nexu.”

"If it makes it into the air again, you can fly it all you want."

Sinead flashed a smile. "I’m honored."

"Just don't crash it."

"Oh please! Didn't you hear me before? I'm Corellian! We don't crash ships."

Mando's shoulders moved with what might have been a silent snort. "Right."

"It's true. We may do what in certain aviation circles is called a forceful downward trajectory terminating in an acute surface touchdown."

"And is the ship able to take off again?"

"Eventually."

This time she was sure she heard a soft chuckle, and she pursed her lips to keep from smiling. Perhaps the fresh air was getting to him too.

They wandered through a grove of thin white trees with sparse crowns that allowed sunlight to stream through the leaves. Thick moss covered the ground, and Sinead wanted nothing more than to lie down and take a nap between the trees. The kid seemingly had the same idea because when he passed a particularly soft-looking tussock, he slumped down, his little face weary. Sinead scooped him into her arms. "You've had enough walking for now? Lucky for you, you're so small, I can just keep you in my pocket." 

"I can take him," Mando said, watching her as she shifted the child to rest on her hip.

"It's fine. You're carrying the supplies. And I think he's already asleep."

"It's a long walk for him."

"Yeah ..." she looked down at the already sleeping child. "You've ever thought about giving him a name?"

"Not really.”

“Well, you should. I can't keep calling him kid in my head. Just because you're fine with having no name doesn't mean it works for everyone else. He's gonna grow up very confused."

Mando was silent for a moment. "When the Guild business is over, I'm sure whoever raises him can give him a name."

"What?" Sinead stopped abruptly, staring at him like she'd never seen him before. "You're gonna leave him? Just like that?"

"A ship's no place for a kid."

"I grew up on a ship, and I'm fine."

Mando was silent for a moment. "It's too dangerous. He deserves to grow up somewhere stable."

"And that's impossible if he stays with you?"

He started to walk again, and she hurried to keep up. "You saw what happened on Tatooine, and the droid. What if we hadn't come back to Loovria? It's better this way." 

She looked down at the sleeping child in her arms. His small hand had gripped a fold on her jacket. It didn't feel right, Mando without the kid. She didn’t know what to say; it wasn't her business, after all, so she changed the subject. "Do you know how old he is? Can't be more than a couple of years, he's so tiny." 

"He's 50."

She let out a snort. "Right."

"I'm serious."

"He can't speak, Mando. He's not older than us. Or me, anyway."

"I have the last four digits of his chain code," Mando said, sounding annoyed.

"And what does that mean?"

"That I know his age. It's why his tracking fob is off. It's the only reason the Guild hasn't caught up. Some species mature slower than others."

The kid made a soft sound in his sleep, and Sinead pressed her palm against his head, so warm and fragile. She felt a pang of sadness; even if he was 50 years old, he was still a small kid lost in the galaxy. Who knew how long it had been since he'd last been with his family? "I guess he has enough wrinkles to pass as a 50-year-old." It wasn't very funny, but she didn't know what else to say.

"I think, maybe ..." Mando trailed off.

"Yeah?"

"I think he might be a Strand-Cast."

The word rang a bell and brought Sinead back to a half-remembered conversation overheard on Sriluur. "That's a clone, right?"

Mando shifted the pack on his back. "Close. It's more like a … a type of bioengineered creature.” / Or just engineered creature.

That was harder to believe than the kid's age. She studied his small face, trying to find any signs of him being … what? "What makes you think that?"

"I just ... think it's a possibility."

"Hm." She moved the kid from one arm to another, careful not to wake him. "Would explain why the Imps want him back." The implications made her stomach twist, and she subconsciously held him closer. "You notice anything special about him?"

Mando waited for an odd amount of time before he answered, "No. I haven't."

... ... ... ... ...

Din didn’t know why he had lied to Sinead. While he usually trusted his senses completely, there was something about the child's powers that made him uncertain of what he had actually seen. The mudhorn had almost caved in his chest, and he had only been saved by the strength of his armor. The ground had shaken as it charged at him, pain exploded across his chest when he breathed. And suddenly, the beast was lifted into the air. The child saved him even though Din wasn’t his ally.

There was a tightness in his chest, a phantom pain from the battle with the beast.

They walked until the sky started darkening and the wind picked up. Save for the grove of white trees, the forest stayed the same. The child had woken up sometime before and watched the surroundings with curious eyes. Maybe he thought they were back on Sorgan.

"I think it's starting to rain."

As he turned to Sinead, a raindrop hit his helmet, the sound so much louder in his ears. It was followed by a rapid patter of rain on leaves, and soon the rain came down hard, obscuring his vision.

Sinead was barely visible through the sheets of rain.

"Of course this planet has crazy weather," Sinead shouted over the sound of the rain. "This is on me for thinking we could have a nice walk through the woods."

He peered at Sinead through the rain and the darkness. Water dripped from her hair and into her eyes, and the kid had turned his face into her jacket. With a sigh, he undid the fastenings of his cloak and thrust it at Sinead, hoping that she would take it without a word. She offered him a wan smile. The already sodden fabric was better than nothing.

The ground was soggy, and it wouldn’t be long until the whole forest was a muddy swamp. The settlement was hours away, but they couldn't keep going like this.

"We have to find shelter," Din said, motioning for Sinead to follow him through the trees which were running with water, little pools forming between the roots.

"You know, I don't think we're gonna find a cave anywhere near." Sinead held the kid close to her chest, trying to shield him from the worst of it.

"Follow me."

Before long, cold water had soaked through his clothes. He kept glancing back at Sinead, who looked like a misshapen lump under his cloak. The kid had to be freezing.

Desperation crept up his spine, and he started to move faster.  

It had come to the point where he would have accepted a hollowed-out tree or a wide branch when his visor indicated there was something between the trees. He pushed through a thicket, wet branches slapping against his armor, and there, in a small clearing, stood an old cabin. The windows were dark and empty, and the roof drooped under the weight of dead leaves. Nobody had been there for a long time. Years of rain and rot had warped the doorframe, and Din had to shoulder it open, the wood nearly buckling with every shove. It finally gave out with a loud crack.

A lantern hung on a hook beside the door, and Din pulled it down. Amazingly, it spluttered to life with a hiss and cast a weak light on the drab surroundings.

The cabin was a single room covered in a thick layer of dust and animal droppings. There was an overpowering smell of mildew and earth, and the last inhabitants had left multiple stringed cans hanging from the ceiling that clattered when the door was forced open. Most of the furniture left behind was broken. There was a mount of ash in the soot-covered fireplace. A single bed had been pushed into the corner.

Sinead hurried into the cabin and turned in a circle. "It's better than the cave on Luria."

"How is he?" The pack thumped to the ground and Din let out a soft grunt. His muscles were stiff and aching.

She pulled back the cloak to reveal the child. "Okay, I think. He's cold."

Din grunted and set to work. It didn’t take long before a fire was lit from the remains of a chair Din took apart. There was no way he would be able to find any dry firewood outside. It sounded like the rain had picked up since they entered the hut, coming in near vertically and thudding against the grimy windows.

Sinead sat cross-legged in front of the fire with the kid on her lap. He looked solemnly into the dancing flame and now and again would bite into a piece of bantha jerky with a strange sort of ferocity.

Din watched as Sinead removed her braid and combed through her hair with her fingers. He had never noticed how long it was. She stared into the fire in an almost hypnotized way, her long fingers working through every section of hair. The firelight cast deep shadows on her face, making her look unreal, like a painting.

"Mando?"

He blinked. He hadn't noticed her looking at him.

"You okay?" She tilted her head slightly. "There's room for you by the fire if you want. You must've gotten as soaked as us."

He suddenly became aware of how cold and wet he was, his armor feeling impossibly heavy and constricting. Slowly, he sat beside her and immediately felt the warmth radiating from the fire through layers of beskar and clothing.

"You've really never taken your helmet off in front of anyone?"

He watched her from out of the corner of his eyes, grateful that the helmet hid his face. "Never."

"You weren't born with it. When was the last time someone saw your face?"

The fire crackled and threw up sparks.

"When the Mandalorians took me in. I swore to the creed."

"And that means never showing your face?"

"Yes. This is the way."

She looked into the fire with an unreadable emotion in her eyes that made Din look away. "I heard Xi'an say something like that. I didn't know what it meant, and then there were sorta more important things to deal with."

The memory of her dealing with the droid sprung up in his mind; the way she looked standing over the broken corpse with fire and rage in her eyes.

And she’d done it all for the child.

"I'm sorry for all of that."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I contacted them."

"Which you did because of me. You didn't know they were backstabbing bastards."

Maybe he hadn't known, but the revelation hadn't exactly been shocking.

"Well, it all worked out in the end. We have a new lead." Her voice faded away as she stared into the flames.

It was suddenly hard to look at her.

She let out a yawn and looked at the bed. "It's probably time to turn in. How long to the settlement?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"If the rain lets up."

She made a disgusted sound. "I definitely need some sleep if I'm gonna survive tomorrow." Getting to her feet, she cradled the kid in her arms. "You coming?"

His spine straightened as he looked to the bed. "Uh ..."

"C'mon." Sinead shrugged. "The bed's big enough for both of us, and you need sleep just as much as I do."

Din stood as Sinead went over to the bed and started pulling back the sheets, which disintegrated in her hand. When she sat down, the mattress released a cloud of dust.

"It's better than the one in the Crest," she said while bouncing up and down. The mattress springs screeching with every movement.

Din turned his back to her and pretended to go over the supplies, hands going still when she lay down to a wailing chorus of springs. He didn’t often share a bed with someone else and generally it wasn’t for sleeping. When he couldn’t put it off any longer, he turned to face the bed where Sinead was lying on her back. The kid was swaddled in a blanket, fast asleep beside her.

Get a grip, he told himself as he sat on the edge of the bed to a cacophony of squeaking springs. He tried to control his breathing, but it felt like his heart was beating twice as fast. They had been sharing the same living space for weeks, and sleeping beside her gave him heart palpitations? Giving himself a mental shake, he lay down on the mattress, which was lumpy with age and just marginally more comfortable than the floor. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to focus on a spring that had worked its way through the outer layer and was trying to shank him. The rain pattered against the roof in a hypnotic rhythm, and the dying fire cast a warm light over the small room.

Between them, the child let out a little sound in his sleep.

The mattress dipped as Sinead turned onto her side, and Din's concentration shattered.

“You’re okay sleeping in your armor? Isn’t it uncomfortable?” She spoke quietly as to not wake the kid.

It was. The fire had only succeeded in drying the outer layers and leaving everything else cold and constricting. Even if it weren’t, it was doubtful he'd get much sleep anyway. "I’m used to it.” It came out in a breath.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sinead prop her head to her hand and give him a faint smile. "'I'm used to it' implies that it isn't." She smiled gently, her dark eyes glinting in the firelight.

Despite himself, he rolled onto his side. The child slept between them, acting as a buffer. 

“It’s fine.”

“Okay.”

Safely hidden by his helmet, Din studied her face; still damp hair lay in soft-looking waves across the mattress, and there was an unreadable look in her eyes, in the way her smile seemed to slowly slip from her lips. She plucked at the kid's blanket. "How were they, the Mandalorians that took you in?"

The question caught him off guard. He watched a spider crawl up the wall behind Sinead while he thought.

"They treated me as an equal, fed and trained me, even though I wasn't their kin."

Sinead's eyes were warm and inquisitive. "Were there others like you?"

It had been a long time since he thought back on those days where alternating grief and gratitude had made his head spin. "We were foundlings. Lots of children were affected by the war."

"Where are they now? Your clan."

He searched her face for any sign of an ulterior motive almost hoping that he would find it and shut the conversation down without a second thought, but he didn’t find any; she looked as calm and curious as before. “After the great purge, they went into hiding.” He hoped that was enough of an answer. It was all he could give.

“Oh.”

The silence stretched between them, only interrupted by the rain and the sound of some small animal running across one of the rafters. Din considered pretending he had fallen asleep when Sinead started talking in a voice barely above a whisper. "Back when … before I was …" for once she seemed lost for words. "Before everything happened. My parents were cargo runners, willing to go pretty much anywhere in the known galaxy even with a little kid in tow. As I said, my father was a pilot, and my mother was in charge of security. As a kid I honestly couldn't imagine a better life than living out among the stars. I still remember the day I learned that most people go their whole life never leaving their home planet. I couldn't wrap my mind around it."

His armor dug into his side, but he didn’t notice. Her words came out softly like she was soothing a crying child.

"We were a pretty tight-knit group. Our co-pilot Raans, I used to call him Uncle. Don't remember a time where he wasn't a part of the crew. He was married to the navigator Tir Farr. Quite the couple.”

Farr. Were all her aliases taken from people she had known in the past?

"We were our own little village. Our old gunner, who I never actually saw leave the ship, taught me how to cheat in sabacc. Said it was better learning from him than after some guy fleeced me out of all my credits." The sound of rain seemed to melt away as she talked. A sad smile played on her face as she told him about the rest of the crew, looking so small curled up on the bed, and Din felt something stir in his chest. Suddenly, the space between them seemed to shrink. If he wanted to he could reach out and touch her.

“I had this old, really cheap voice recorder that I would go around and interview the crew. Must’ve ended up with hours of stories.”

“Why?”

“It was something my father told me once that really stuck with me. ‘As long as someone remembers you, you’re never really gone.’ And in my child mind it meant that if I made sure they would always be remembered then they’d never leave. When I got older and found out that wasn’t how it worked, it sort of became a habit. Every time we landed on a planet I’d find someone who was willing to talk to me. Ended up with a pretty comprehensive collection.”

She trailed off, and the hut was once again silent. The fire had burnt down to glowing embers.

"What kind of cargo did they run?" His throat felt constricted and the words came out harsher than he intended.

"Whatever paid the most, which, as you know, more times than not were less than legal. They thought I didn't know about the smuggling, but I pretty quickly learned what was in the crates they hid under the flooring. I overheard my parents argue over when to tell me. They agreed that once I turned eighteen …" he heard her swallow thickly. “That’s why I have to find Kyen. He’s the only family I have left. No matter if … if he’s changed, I have to know. I owe it to him.”

It was too dark to see her face and for that Din was grateful. "I'm sorry." It sounded so hollow coming from him, but he didn’t know what else to say.

"Yeah. Me too."

They fell silent. The fire had burned down to glowing coals, and Sinead was a black silhouette in the darkness.

"Mando?" She whispered. "Are you asleep?"

"No."

Minutes ticked by. Eventually, Sinead's breathing turned slow. He watched the contours of her chest rise and fall and tried to time his own breathing with hers, but it was like a band had constricted around his chest, making it uncomfortable to breathe.

Forcing his eyes shut, he resigned himself to a sleepless night.

<- Previous chapter - Next chapter ->

[1000roughdrafts]

Family Secrets: Chapter One

Pilot

Summary: Allanah (OC) enlists an old flame, Crowley, to help her find a well hidden hunter, while you work on your first case since Rufus’ death. It’s a simple salt n’ burn, but brings on more trouble than you initially expected. 

A/N: I decided to re-write this series and improve things to help make a better ending so I wanted to just repost it :)

Warnings: none that I can think of :)

W/C: 2.1k

Masterlist/Schedule

For someone who prides himself on his ability to sneak about, Allanah is more than surprised to hear the small rocks turn under his slow and steady footsteps. At this pace, she expects to be face to face with him in an hour. 

After waiting half that time near a rancid dumpster between the thick walls of two sister buildings, she thought for a moment to meet him halfway, but that would have read - to him - as submission.

“I see you’re still one for a grand entrance.” The words that spill out of her mouth are poisonous. Unluckily for her, he is immune.

An arrogant chuckle cracks through his teeth and sits on her swollen chest, “the most bewitching of an evening is one with a crescent moon.” He averts his eyes upwards for just shy of a moment before continuing, “and a sorry sap requiring my assistance.” His grimace is barely noticeable with only a sliver of the moon and an ember of a street lamp for light.

She pushes on with an utmost of confidence, “ah, but you see.” With one hand on her hip she traces along his broad shoulders with her fingers as she sways around him. “I could be of assistance to you, as well.”

He deigns a chuckle without opening his mouth and, for the first time, removes a hand from his tailored coats’ pocket to gesture at his disbelief, “me? Need help from you?”

He bellows out a laugh and takes a few steps closer to the graffiti littered wall. With his back to her, he takes in a curt breath of the water stained air. “Oh, please do continue. I could use some entertainment after the abomination that was my day.”

“I can get you the key to Teraw.”

Swiveling around as quickly as she let the words loose, his face freezes sternly. Thick eyebrows and thin lips beseech acquaintance and he is too intrigued to care how she knows what she does. “You may question my ability now, Fergus, but hold your tongue until it’s sitting in your hands.” She straightens up her stance and presses the wrinkles out of her over worn blouse, “the key, that is.”

He wasn’t exactly pleased to be meeting with his former lover, but now she had begun stepping on his last nerve. His curiosity is replaced with annoyance. Filling the gap between them with a micro step he amplifies his height in an attempt to match hers.

“There is nobody that walks this plane, Heaven or Hell that is permitted to call me by that name, Allanah. Even if there were, you would be the exception.”

Any time Allanah could get a rise out of him is a success in her eyes. A mischievous grin grows on her face and she folds her frail arms against herself, “it’s been quite a while since we’ve been in the presence of one another. I guess it must’ve evaded my memory how much you despise your mortal name.”

“Ah, we’re not here to quarrel over history, though are we,” he irately observes with an eyebrow raised an inch higher than its twin. “And what do you request of me?” He steps forward to put forth some much needed distance, “after all, a deal is bi-fold.”

“My appeal is simple, really.” Her boots click on the piece of pavement that remains intact as she paces around him with her fingers entwined. “All you have to do is find the girl. From that point, she will lead you to it.” Her lips move slowly and stay fluent with her provocative expression and posture. It seems like she’d rehearsed this line prior to their alleyway conference.

He squints his eyes, “you mean the hunter?” She was already a point of interest for him, but to this extent he had no idea, nor did he believe it. “A mere human is going to find me the key to another dimension?” His words taste bitter and sound even worse.

Her regularly vacant eyes glimmer in the reflection of flickering lights. She takes a step that is half her length with only one foot in front of the other. “Oh, you couldn’t be more wrong, Crowley.”

“And to what benefit could you acquire from her?” His voice remains calm.

“Oh honey, my auxiliary don’t even know of my plans,” she says between heartened chuckles.

“And I take it, if you can’t locate her, she must’ve done a cloaking spell of some sorts.”

“Right,” Allanah sighs.

“I see, well, rules are rules. Shall we seal this formally?” He reluctantly inquires.

Truth be told if he had a beating heart it would belong to her. It’d been many silent years since they parted ways, though not for lack of trying. He’d made multiple attempts at reconciliation and, of course, she’d only reached back when she became desperate.

In replacement of a response, she strolls the short distance to close the space between their chests. She almost starts to feel guilty for the way things had ended before when she takes notice of the illumination in his welcoming eyes.

Taking aid from the walls she’d built around her heart, she forces the memories out of her mind and mentally counts to five before planting a reminiscent kiss on his plush, slightly parted lips.

For the sake of theatrics, she drapes her arms upon his shoulders and allows her fingers to travel through his hair. He clasps his hands around her wrists and pulls outwards simultaneous to the retrieval of his lips. The first thing he sees upon opening his eyes is a menacing grin on her generally lovely face, and it sends a twinge down his spine.

“Find the girl, Crowley,” her words slumbering as she coasts down the gravel pathway to the street. “Get the girl, and she’ll take you to the key,” she says turning back just once more to capture his awestruck expression before blending into the darkness.

----

Tossing the shovel to the side, you take in the vibrant energy of the moon from behind you. You are surrounded by trees and dirt paths that lead to their headstones. You don’t feel scared in the presence of graves as you spend a fair amount of time in places people otherwise seem to avoid.

Glancing into the hole you’d just spent hours on, you are startled by the sound of tires hitting the gravel entrance. Before you can hide you hear a disembodied voice bellow out.

“What the Hell do you think you are doing?” The voice is wrapped in a tall, plump man. His uniform is clean for the most part, yet his shoes are a little torn and scuffed up. Only a baton and flashlight sit in his charcoal belt, which means he is presumably unarmed.

It’s been years since you’d run into trouble like this, but thankfully you’re quick on your feet. “Oh no,” you let out a quick breath that masks itself in a chuckle. “I’m sorry,” you say sweetly and reach into your coat pocket with the other hand held up as a white flag. “My name is Maggie Tarnish. I’m with the FBI.”

He’s close enough now that it takes no effort to hand over your slightly used thousand dollar badge. It cost you close to nothing to make, but getting caught with a forged identity card could cost you the next five years and money you don’t have.

After taking a moment to collect your composure, you speak with as much conviction as possible,  “it was brought to my attention that there may have been evidence left behind by my old forensics team.” You let out all of your built up air and finally allow yourself to loosen up a bit, “idjits,” you say, squeaking out a comfortable one-syllable laugh. “The court ordered I exhume the body to retrieve it.”

“Alone?” His head is tilted like a dog would when they hear something unfamiliar, “and why wasn’t this brought to my attention?”

You don’t answer right away. You’ve learned that these kinds of situations are like a time bomb; one wrong move and it could blow up in an instant. You figure the nice act wouldn’t cut it any longer. You don’t have time to stand around talking, anyway!  

Taking another look at his uniform you let out a disdain tainted laugh and inhale sharply, “I’m a strong woman. I didn’t want to waste company income on any more manpower than necessary.” You dig your heels into the dirt as if to give more depth to your words and close yourself off with your arms. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you’re at the bottom of the food chain around here.”

With a fierce tone and your shoulder blades pressed as close to each other as you can force them, you sneer, “let me guess. Three, maybe four, nights a week to drive ‘round ensuring no one robs a grave right? Or to make sure teenagers aren’t vandalizing and telling the homeless they have to sleep somewhere else?”

It really isn’t his fault, your thoughts peak through. He is only trying to do the job he was given.

Fury builds behind his emerald eyes and it becomes easy for you to imagine him with red skin to match the anger. “Do you think that gives you the authority to tell me how or when to do my job? You want to know what my hours are like?” Taking a step closer to him you are seemingly getting lost in your own monologue which only increases the petulance of your tiring lifestyle.

“They are endless and ruthless, but I am protecting and saving people with the work I’m doing. Trying to do, anyway, before you so disrespectfully interrupted me.” With an eye roll your voice grows deeper but not much louder, “lives are at stake here, so please leave the grown up to do her job.” As soon as the last word comes out the graveyard falls back to silence.

“I would like to speak with your supervisor,” his bushy eyebrows raise as he demands rather than asks, “do you have a number I could call?”

Keeping up with the array of confidence, you reach into your duffel bag while attempting to hide its contents. You fumble around for a minute until you find a coffee stained business card printed to represent your falsity, and flick it at him with gall. After having been sucked into a conversation you wanted no part in, you take this moment to get reacquainted with your surroundings.

The overflowing and lustrous moon has moved quite a distance since you first arrived and is now at midpoint in the sky. Easier to see is easier to be seen, you think and have always been proven right by this. You force a quick glance at your watch, confirming both your suspicion and fear. Now, you have about sixteen minutes before this body reanimates.

His voice booms out and shocks you out of your thoughts, “is this some kind of sick joke?”

“What are you talking about?” You slit your eyes in his direction.

“The line is disconnected,” he says with disbelief and followed by a conspicuously pretentious chuckle that soon turns into an intimidating cackle. Typing a new number into his phone, he continues to gloat, “I knew it! I knew you were full of shit.”

“Who are you calling now?”

He looks at you with vaunt in his eyes, “the local authorities.”

Without thinking, you snatch his hand before he can place the phone to his ear and cancel the call. Moving around him with his arm tightened against his back, you wrap your free arm around his neck. Imagining your wrists are magnets, you connect them to apply just enough pressure to keep him alive and unconscious.

Only because you had caught him off guard were you able to subdue a man of his size so quickly, but it still made you feel accomplished. You allow his heavy body to drop just enough to make it easy to drag. Taking turns between watching behind and in front of you, you shuffles him towards the car he arrived in.

You are unable to lift him into the seat without the strength of the second person you’re supposed to have, so instead you prop him against the side of the vehicle and delete the two previously dialed numbers. You pull out a handkerchief to wipe your prints and drop the device into his lap before switching your gaze to survey the Mausoleum and surrounding area for any onlookers.

Hesitantly, you peak a glance at your watch. With only five minutes remaining you run through the terrain being careful not to disturb the other graves. You try to focus on the task at hand, but the only thing running through your mind is a question; why is his line disconnected?

He said he would always answer if you called. With lighter fluid in one hand and a match in the other, you douse the body, set it ablaze and barrel out as quickly as possible.

Next Chapter 

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 3

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 5,841

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

I’d done it.

I’d gotten a job.

My very first job.

And I was already regretting it big time.

But really, could you blame me? I’d had to interact with three, count them, three people so far. Would the torture never end? No, because it had only just begun! And those were just my boss and coworkers, I hadn’t even gotten to a customer yet. I was dreading that inevitable moment as it drew ever nearer with each passing second.

Oh, and did I mention the uniform? Because, dear lord, if I’d known this is what I’d be signing up for, I probably never would have applied in the first place. For starters, I had to wear a light blue fitted, long sleeved, off shoulder blouse which, granted, wasn’t that bad. But that was only the tip of the iceberg. It was paired with a black mini skirt that stopped a couple inches short of the knees. Can you believe it? A mini skirt.  I didn’t see any of my male coworkers sporting booty shorts, no, they got to be fully covered up in white button ups, blue vests, and black slacks. Talk about sexist!

But a job was a job, and I had to start somewhere.

And that somewhere just so happened to be the Ice Palace - a small ice cream shop located in the food court of a local mall known as Dusk Town Center.  The walls of the little parlor were decorated in a jagged, cerulean, semi-transparent plastic, simulating the whole frozen castle vibe. The mascot was Sven the Reindeer, which was actually sort of weird to me. I mean, I get it, reindeers are up where it’s cold and snowy all the time, but weren’t they really more of a Santa thing? I just couldn’t really picture them chilling in a frosty throne room, you know what I mean? But hey, I guess it just gave the marketing team an excuse to sell cute caribou plushies, which were everywhere - dangling from the ceiling, sitting atop the cash registers, filling boxes upon boxes in the back… basically anywhere there wasn’t ice cream, there was a stuffed, huggable, googly eyed little deer.

All in all, not exactly a dream job, but pickers can’t be choosers. Especially when the picker, aka me, had flunked out of twenty-some-odd interviews before finally landing this one. Don’t get me wrong, Rayne and Riku had been great teachers. The problem had been with the pupil. No matter how hard they tried to iron out all my nervous habits and anxiety-induced rambling, a few quirks had still managed to slip through. This had led to no small number of awkward moments and don’t-call-us-we’ll-call-yous. But at last I’d managed to keep it together long enough in one interview to trick someone into hiring the trainwreck that was me.

Just my luck it had to be the frigging food court ice cream place with the stupidly short skirts.

It was my first day on the job. The guy who was training me had left me alone after setting me up with a handful of orientation videos to watch and telling me to come get him when I was done. I was seated in one dark corner of this small room that was part storage space, part break area. Before me was a tiny TV atop a VCR that could only be from the Stone Age. Seriously, I didn’t even know such relics were still in circulation anymore. The videos were just about as dated and mind-numbing as you’d expect. They included one such gem as, now that I was a valued employee of Ice Palace, I wasn’t just a part of team but a family. It also felt the need to cover the obvious, things like don’t be rude, don’t handle the product without washing your hands first, don’t kiss, grope, or otherwise manhandle coworkers or customers, don’t go getting yourself locked in a freezer… you know, things I would never, ever do in the first place, not in a million years.

Suffice it to say, I was bored out of my skull.

That said, this was way better than having to talk to an actual human being. So it probably wasn’t hard to imagine my disappointment when the credits at last rolled on the final tape.  Sighing, I rose from my chair and clicked off the ancient television set before turning to face the door across the room.  My fellow employee that I needed to check in with now was somewhere on the other side of it.

Where the customers were.

Waiting.

Lurking.

I shuddered.

I then took the opportunity to fidget with my skirt, tugging at the hem a bit.

Note to self: use first paycheck to invest in some tights. This whole bare legs thing just was not working for me. 

Ugh, why a mini skirt of all things?! I mean, come on, it was the Ice Palace, shouldn’t we be dressing more the part? I’m thinking Inuit attire, I’m talking fur-lined boots and layers upon layers of thick, fuzzy coats covering me from head to toe. But a skirt? It just wasn’t realistic! If I were in a real castle made entirely of frost, I’d be freezing my rear off right about now!

I then adjusted the black cap with a blue bill atop my head that sported our cursive logo, complete with a teeny doodle of a palace, before tightening my ponytail that stuck out the hole in the back. I’d opted for that over my usual braid. Figured it would make it harder for me to fiddle with my hair when I got anxious.

Unfortunately, I had now run out of trivial (but one hundred percent necessary) ways to procrastinate.  Guess there was no putting it off any longer.  I slowly approached the door, watching it grow more ominous with every step that brought me closer to it. Halting in front of it, I reached for the knob. But then I stopped, hesitating before retracting my hand and looking back over my shoulder towards a second door on the opposite wall, a green Exit sign glowing over it.

The door to freedom.

Perhaps it wasn’t too late for me to follow my dreams and become a hermit. I could always buy a fake beard. No one would ever know the difference.

My eyes darted back and forth between the two doors, my breath becoming shallow and my heartrate quickening. Then, biting down on my lower lip, I took a step towards that Exit sign and-

“There you are!”

I froze with a wince before turning my back on that tantalizing exit, instead facing my coworker who was now leaning in through the other door. He was tall with brown eyes and his head shaved bald beneath his own cap. A thin, black goatee wrapped around the friendly grin he was shooting my way as he now fully stepped into the room to join me, looking quite dapper in his vest and neatly ironed pants.

I chuckled nervously, clasping my hands behind my back.  “Er, yeah… here I am.”

Drat. So close!

“Was wondering if you’d gotten lost, figuring as how you should’ve been long done with those videos by now.”

“Nope, was just… on my way, Lucius.”

“Ah ah!” he chided, waggling a finger in my face before gesturing to his work attire. “When I’m in the uniform, it’s Frozone.”

I blinked.  “...Fro...zone?”

He nodded solemnly.  “Yup. Because when I’m on the clock, I’m in the zone.” That last word was emphasized with a wide sweep of his outstretched hand before he tacked on dramatically, “The Frozen Zone.”

“...I see.”

He seemed to take great pride in his work.

I wondered if I would ever be that dedicated.

...or if I ever even really wanted to be that dedicated.

“So, um… Mr Frozone… what’s next?”

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder back towards the door he’d come in through. “Figured we could get you up front now, start familiarizing you with the space and equipment.”

“R-really? So soon?” My fingers twitched, reaching for my braid before remembering it wasn’t there. Instead I settled for crossing my arms. “You think I’m ready for that?”

Answer: A big fat no.

“Well, let’s see here.” He started ticking off fingers, “You’ve watched the videos, you’ve had the grand tour, you’ve-”

“No I haven’t!” I said quickly, shaking my head.  “Had the grand tour, that is.”

“No? Well alright then.” He stepped past me and further into the room, then stopped and pivoted around to face me, spreading his arms out to either side of him.  “Here it is, in all its glory. Just breathe in that majesty.”

This cramped break-slash-storage room was it, apparently. Besides the TV and VCR in one corner, most of it was filled with giant, industrial-grade fridges for housing all the ice cream. Plus a couple of large metal sinks, plus the aforementioned boxes upon boxes of reindeer plushies. Squeezed into one corner was a humble couch that’d seen better days, along with a small table with a couple rickety-looking chairs. A giant bulletin board hanging from one wall completed the look, covered in workplace guidelines, announcements, and different colored flyers.

“Oh.” I pursed my lips to one side.  “Very, ah… very majestic.”

“Isn’t it just?” he nodded, hands on his hips as he smiled broadly. “Welp, that’s that. Now let’s get you up to the registers to continue your training.”

I hummed thoughtfully.  “Maybe I should watch the videos one more time. Just to make sure, that… uh...”

Reason… reason… dear god, please, come up with a reason, any reason!

“...that I... didn’t... miss anything?”

He laughed. “You’re thorough and detail oriented. I like that.” He planted his hands on my shoulders and steered me towards the door of doom. “Feel free to rewatch those tapes on your own time, but for now, let’s move on.”

“But-”

He gave me a gentle but firm push and I stumbled through the door and straight into my own personal hell.

Alright, fine, maybe I was being a bit over dramatic. There weren’t even any customers in line at the moment. Seemed like it was just after the lunch rush and most of the people had already eaten and cleared out. There were just a couple families left dotting the tables out there in the otherwise empty food court beyond our countertop.

Swallowing my nerves and inhaling deeply to calm myself, I glanced around my more immediate area. I was a bit curious after all, seeing as how this was my first real time on this side of the cash register. But really? There wasn’t much to it. There was a giant frozen display proudly presenting a rainbow of different flavored ice cream. Beneath it behind the counter were some small metal doors that seemed to be some more refrigerated storage space. In one corner was this fancy looking ice cream machine, with stacks on stacks of empty cups and cones beside it. There were some large menus overhead on the back wall and beneath them, a snowman crudely painted onto the door that I had just been so unceremoniously shoved through. Then of course, those plastic “ice” walls and reindeer dolls overflowing from every crook and cranny that they could conceivably be crammed into.

That about summed it up.  That, plus the burly blonde guy manning one of the registers that would be my second coworker.

He turned his head, giving me a look that admittedly wasn’t quite a scowl, but wasn’t exactly warm and inviting either.

I gulped and unconsciously took a step back, immediately bumping into something. Looking over my shoulder, that something turned out to be a someone: Lu… erm, I mean, Frozone.

Hand on my shoulder once more, he guided me forward and I took a few reluctant steps closer to the other man.  “Elsa, you remember Kristoff from earlier, right?”

I gave a weak nod and raised my hand in a tiny wave. “H-hi again.”

He only continued to fix me with a dull stare.

“Oh yeah, you two are going to be fast friends, I can already tell,” Frozone beamed. “Now Kristoff here is going to be taking over your training and showing you the ropes up here. There’s a new shipment in back that I should get to sorting out, but just give a holler if you need me.”

“Wait!” I snatched at his sleeve as he turned to leave through the back door.  My eyes darted from him to Kristoff and back before I whispered, “Do you really have to go?”

I had actually been growing comfortable around him. He seemed nice.

This Kristoff guy on the other hand seemed, erm… how should I put this… shall we say, grumpy?

Frozone chuckled, tugging himself free of my grasp and patting me on the head. “I’m flattered, girl, but I’m a taken man. Honey is the light of my life and trust me, you do not want to get on that woman’s bad side.”

“Wha-?” I blinked a couple times. “No, that’s not what I-”

Annnnnnd there he went, calling a cheerful, “Have fun, you two!” over his shoulder as he disappeared into the back.

Sighing, I turned to face Kristoff and was greeted once more by that same deadpan expression.

Oh yeah. So much fun.

Taking a cautious step towards him, I cleared my throat and rubbed my left elbow.  “So… that Frozone… really seems to take his job seriously, huh?”

“...don’t even get me started,” he said flatly.

So he speaks.

Barely.

I tried again. “What do I call you? Kristoff okay? Or just Kris? ...Kristo?” I was met with total silence. “...Oh, maybe that’s already short for something, like… Kristopher? Kristofel? Kris...toforos?” Mayday! Mayday! I was beginning to enter nervous babbling territory. Send help. “Or perhaps, oh! Do we all get theme names? Like Frozone? What would yours be? Are you the, uh… hmm, the, um… the Iceman?”

Face unchanged and dead serious, he said at last, “Oh yeah. That’s me. The Iceman. I love ice. Ice is my life. I eat, drink, and breathe nothing but ice. At night, I go to my ice house, eat my ice dinner, tuck myself into my ice bed, and cuddle with a bag of ice like it’s a teddy bear.”

“...really?”

If possible, his eyelids drooped even further.  “No.”

“Oh.”

I knew that.

He heaved a soft, grumbling huff. “Kristoff is fine. Let’s go, new girl.”

He left his station behind the cash register to walk over to the display housing the frozen tubs, slapping a hand down on top of the chilly glass. “Ice cream,” he explained dryly. He then bent down to open one of the metal doors below, pulling out what appeared to be a plastic wrapped, solid bar of sugary sweetness on a stick. “More ice cream.” He tossed it back in with the rest just like it, kicking the door shut. He then picked up a rounded, steel utensil. “Ice cream scoop. You know how to use one, right?”

“Ah,” I brightened. “Yes, of course!”

“Congratz, you’re at least as competent as a four-year-old.”

Hey now, rude.

Returning the scoop to where he’d found it, Kristoff then walked over to the giant machine in the corner. As I approached it as well, I began to appreciate just how much of a monster this thing truly was with all its buttons, switches, levers, and tubes on it. It was actually kind of intimidating. What on earth could they all even possibly do?

“Combo soft serve/milkshake machine,” Kristoff continued on in his bored monotone as he planted an elbow atop the thing, leaning against it. He pointed at a big lever on the left over one tube. “Ice cream.” Next at another big lever, this one on the right over a second tube with some sort of gizmo sticking out of it. “Milkshakes.” His index finger shifted down to three large buttons running down the bottom right corner in front, first indicating the top one. “Turns it on and off.” Then the bottom button. “Flavor swapper.”

“And this one?” My fingers drifted towards the middle button.

“No touchy,” he lightly swatted my hand away. “That one makes it angry. And trust me, you won’t like it when it’s angry.”

I tipped my head to one side. “...why would there even be a button like that?”

He shrugged, intoning airily, “No one knows.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him, then shook my head, my gaze returning to that monstrosity of a machine. “What about all those other levers and switches on the side?”

“Woah, slow down, newbie. You gotta learn to crawl before you can walk. For now, just stick to the basics.  Ice cream. Shakes. Off and on. Flavor,” he pointed to each one in turn again as he listed them off before giving me yet another dull look. “Am I going too fast for you? Maybe you should be writing this down.”

It was my turn for some eyelid droopage. “I think I got it.”

“Good. You’re ready for your first customer then. And as luck would have it,” he pointed past me, “here he comes.”

“What?!” I spun around on my heel. Some guy had just entered the food court on the opposite end from the Ice Palace, but was making a beeline straight for us.

Panic mode initiated. Hands? Clammy. Face? Blanched. Heart? Pounding. All systems a go.

“Relax, new girl.” Kristoff slapped me on the back, forcing a tiny oof out of me. “I know this dude, we all do around this place. He and his girlfriend are mallrats that’ll spend hours here, visiting all the stores and making friends with everyone. You should have no problem. Total training wheels.”

His words did nothing to ease my growing nerves and I must have been doing a terrible job of hiding it because he snorted, “You’ll be fine.  Just step up to the register.” He waved a hand towards it.

I swallowed hard, then numbly walked over to it.

“Smile,” he pointed to his own grin that he now had plastered on for show, looking remarkably strange on a man I had seen zero emotion from all day.  I forced my own smile and he flinched. “Ehh, maybe not so much.” I toned it down a bit. “Better. Now just say, ‘Welcome to Ice Palace, how may I take your order?’ and the rest should be a no brainer.”

Easy for you to say, buddy.

Taking a small shaky breath, I looked away from him and towards the customer once more just as he closed in on the counter. He had bright blue eyes, brown spiky hair, and a huge grin that just about literally split his face in two.

Okay, Elsa, you can do this.

“Welcome to Ice Palace, how…”

Oh fudge, I’d already forgotten the line! My mind was drawing a complete blank. The blankest of blanks.

“...uh…”

Panic, panic, panic!

“...how… you… order?”

Hi, yes, one stammering idiot at your service.

I heard the smack of Kristoff’s facepalm before he whispered under his breath, “Eh, close enough.”

Seemingly unfazed by my mental malfunction, the guy just continued to flash those pearly whites. “Hey there, could I get two bars of the Paopu Paradise ice cream please?”

“Ah… y-yes, right away!” I darted over to the frozen display case, picking up one of the scoops and reaching for the sliding glass door in back. However, I froze when I heard a throat clearing and turned to see Kristoff jerking a thumb towards the freezer space below.

...oh right, bars. He’d said he’d wanted bars of ice cream.  Fumbling to put the scoop back, I bent down to open the cold door, located the stack labeled “Paopu Paradise” and snatched two off the top before straightening back up and thrusting them proudly over the counter into the customer’s face.

Another throat clear.

I glanced at Kristoff again, who mouthed the word ‘munny’ at me.

...minor detail.

“Er, yes… that’ll be, uh…” I stared down at one of the plastic-sheathed ice creams, spinning it around by the stick, as if looking for the price tag.

Kristoff groaned before tiredly commanding, “Cash register.” I hastily moved to stand in front of it once more.  He pointed to one of the keys. “Push that one.” Done. “Now that one and that one.” Done and done. A munny total appeared on the register’s little black screen and he gestured for me to go on. I read off the amount and the customer, still sunny faced as ever, handed me the munny. To my credit, I only flinched slightly when the cash drawer noisily popped open, allowing the munny to be deposited.

After slamming it back shut, I looked to Kristoff again, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth.  “Now?”

He closed his eyes and gave me a solemn nod.

Feeling my muscles relax slightly, I turned back to the customer, offering him his two ice creams once again.

“Thanks!” he chirped, taking them both in one hand and ripping the plastic off one before immediately chomping down hard into the frozen treat, making me wince.

Jeez, this guy must have had the teeth of a viking!

After swallowing the bite, he licked his lips and eyed me curiously. “You’re new, right?”

“Gee, how did you ever guess?” Kristoff deadpanned. I merely turned my head to narrow my eyes up at him.

Ignoring the comment from the peanut gallery, the guy offered his free hand to me. “You’ll probably be seeing me around a lot, so figure I should introduce myself. I’m Sora! Nice to meetcha!”

I hesitated before taking his hand gingerly and shaking it.  “...Elsa. A pleasure.”

He froze mid-lick of his ice cream bar, blinking at me.  “Elsa?” Lowering his snack a little now, he cocked his head. “Hey, you just moved in with Riku and Ray, didn’t you?”

My head rocked back at that.  “How did you-?”

“Stalker,” Kristoff stretched the word out in a low singsong.

Sora’s eyes widened. “Wha? No, no, I know Riku! He’s my cousin and my best bud! He’d mentioned renting out their spare room to an old gal pal of Ray’s and that you were going through a bit of a rough patch, that’s all!” That blinding grin was slowly returning. “Hey, if there’s any way I can help out too, just let me know!”

“Oh.” My brow furrowed. “Uh… thanks…”

...you complete and total stranger.

“Don’t mention it! We’re friends now!”

Ah. My mistake. We were friends.

Apparently.

“Anyway, gotta run,” he waggled the second unopened bar slightly, “Kairi’s waiting for me and she’ll murder me if I let this melt! See ya around!” He waved good-bye to us over his shoulder as he walked off, happily slurping away at his own ice cream. I found myself absently returning the wave, one corner of my lips twitching up.

That guy? Bit of an oddball. But he seemed sweet.

“Not bad, newbie,” I heard Kristoff say as he poked the bill of my Ice Palace cap down, making it cover my eyes.

“Really?” I asked, righting my hat and looking up at him. Surprise of surprises, he was actually smiling.

...okay, it wasn’t so much a smile as it was a faint tightening of the mouth. But hey, I’ll take it.

“Not great, either,” he shrugged. “Not even remotely. But it’s a start. You’ll get better at it as you go. Now let’s cover-”

“Yo, Kristoff!”

Recognizing Frozone’s voice, we turned to see him poking a head out the door to the back.  “Could you give me a quick hand with moving a particularly heavy box?”

“Sure thing, be there in just a sec,” Kristoff called. Frozone (gah, it will never not be weird calling him that) nodded before disappearing once more.

My insides shriveled somewhat.  “You’re leaving me by myself up here?”

He gave my arm a light, reassuring pat. “I’ll be real quick, promise. It’s dead right now, so you probably won’t even have to deal with a single customer before I get back. If you do, don’t worry, you’re a natural. Just take their order, easy-peasy. And if you need help, tell the customer to wait a moment and come get me.”

I once again was reaching for my braid. It once again was not there. “What if they don’t want to wait a moment?”

“Just tell ‘em we’re out of whatever flavor they want and say ‘Let me see if we have any more in the back.’ Got it?”

“I guess so…”

“Good! Be back before you know it.” He jogged off and out the door, but a second later, he was leaning back through it again. “Remember, you say…” he twirled a finger sideways, prompting me.

“...let me see if we have any more in the back?” I ventured in a tiny voice.

He gave me a thumbs up. “Perfect.” Then he was gone again.

I moved to stand at the counter once more, inhaling and exhaling slowly. “Let me see if we have any more in the back,” I repeated, muttering it softly to myself as I eyed the food court warily.

He was right though, it was basically a ghost town out there. Everyone had already eaten for lunch and had all probably packed themselves back into the various stores by now. Plus it was a weekday. Thank goodness my first day hadn’t been on the weekend, I most certainly was not ready for the stampede of shoppers that would have come with that! As it was right now, there were only a few folks out there milling around for an afternoon snack and luckily none of them seemed to be craving ice cream. So I could maybe relax… at least for the moment.

Today… actually wasn’t going too bad so far. The job itself didn’t seem all that terrible. I was getting along with my coworkers, even that Kristoff fellow. He’d acted all tough at first, but seemed actually somewhat friendly underneath that cool exterior. I’d even helped my first customer! And with minimal mistakes, no less!

Maybe… maybe I could actually do this!

Okay sure, was I still a bit of a tangled ball of anxiety inside? Yes. Would I continue to be with each new customer? Oh, without a doubt. But with time, maybe, hopefully, it would lessen? At least somewhat?

A girl could dream anyway.

Regardless, I was doing it. The whole independence thing. Taking control of my life. I still had a long way to go, but this little ice cream job was the first small step. If I could do this, then maybe, just maybe there wasn’t much I couldn’t do. It wouldn’t be easy, and there was still a lot more for me to figure out. Like, a lot more. But I could and would. I just needed to believe in myself.

Feeling just a bit more on the chipper side now - an emotion that I hadn’t truly felt in a long time - I glanced around the food court again, really taking it all in this time, especially the other brightly colored restaurants that formed our neighbors.

There was The Big Olive, which served greek food. Currently a woman with heavy lavender eyeshadow and thick brown hair tied back into a long ponytail with curly fringe stood behind the register, idly flipping through a magazine. Then there was a chinese place called Mushu’s Kingdom with a cute little red dragon at the tail end of the logo. Next, there was Beast Burgers. I’d thought Kristoff cranky, but the big, hairy guy working there at the moment made Kristoff look like a cuddly puppy. Right beside that was a Cajun/Creole-style restaurant called Frog Legs, followed by a place called Sugar Rush, which looked like it served mostly pastries and any other sweet that wasn’t ice cream. Judging by the several large signs they had up, they seemed particularly proud of their cinnamon buns, which looked to be more frosting than bread.

Then there was a Lucky Cat Café, which was basically a coffee empire that had a shop located practically on every last street corner in the universe. I recalled that’s where Riku had purchased my mocha from the day I had officially moved in with Rayne and him. He’d probably bought it from this exact one that I was looking at right now. The mall was only a couple short blocks away from our apartment after all, which made it extra convenient that I’d managed to get the job here.

At that moment, I could see a woman with shoulder-length blue hair working the register while her coworker, a younger guy with short, messy blonde hair, blended a frothy drink nearby. They both were wearing green visors with felt feline ears sticking out the top. The blonde gave the grey cat with stripes perched atop their muffin display counter a quick pat on the head as he passed it by to reach the awaiting customer. It was only when I saw the creature’s tail twitch that I realized that was an actual living, breathing cat. Huh. A pet? Kept in the food court? How odd. It must have been very well trained. Probably just napped in that single spot all day, every day.

Last but not least, directly across the way from the Ice Palace was a Pizza Planet, its green logo sporting a giant, round pizza pie with a Saturn-like ring wrapped around it.  It tied neck-and-neck with our ice cream parlour for most over the top decorations. The interior was designed to look like the inside of a UFO and was littered with toy rocket ships and little green alien squeeze-dolls everywhere. Stationed at the cash register was a girl with short raven hair, clapping and cheering her coworker on.

Said coworker was a tall, lanky guy who, like his fellow employee, was decked out in a dark grey polo with red trimmed sleeves and collar, accompanied by a pair of black fingerless gloves and khakis underneath his black, snuggly-tied full-body apron. His long, wild crimson hair trailed down past the nape of his neck and spilled out in spikes over his open-topped red visor. He was grinning cockily as he spun not one, but two massive discs of pizza dough, one on each index finger.

He tossed one up high into the air before catching it and starting it spinning on his fingertip again. Then he was using some sort of wizardry to send the dough half rolling, half flying across his shoulders as he swapped the other disc to his left hand, freeing up his right to catch the first saucer of dough just in time and keep it whirling, much to his coworker’s delight.

It was as he was giving one of the circular slabs of dough another toss up that he seemed to realize he’d gained a second audience member. His eyes shifted to meet mine and then widened as his whole body locked up.  The disc still balanced on his finger spun off and toppled to the ground.

As for its airborne twin?

Splat!

Right on top of his head, covering his whole face.

A very unladylike snort escaped me, followed by a burst of long and uncontrollable laughter that I tried to smother behind my fingers. I was still laughing when he lifted the dough enough to peek one eye at me, expression unreadable as he slowly raised his other hand in a small twitch of a wave.

My giggling, along with my heart, abruptly stopped as I gasped, paled, squeaked and ducked down behind the counter.

...I’d laughed at him.

Oh my god, I can’t believe I’d laughed at him!

Heart thudding in my ears now, I stayed in a low crouch in my hiding spot, trembling hands gripping the edge of the countertop above me as my tongue dried to literal sandpaper.

Had he heard me laughing? Had he seen me laughing? What am I saying, of course he saw! That’s why he’d waved!

Oh dear lord, what did the wave mean? Was it an angry wave? An ‘I see you laughing at me, jerkface’ wave? A ‘How dare you mock me thusly’ wave? A ‘You have besmirched my honor, villain, now we must duel to the death’ wave? No, no, no, I didn’t know how to duel! What kind of duel would it even be? Pistols at dawn? I knew nothing about using a frigging pistol! Or any gun for that matter! I was dead! I was toast! I was-

Wait! No! Stop! Get a hold of yourself, woman! Gah, calm down and stop letting your imagination run wild with completely ridiculous notions!

I screwed my eyes shut, breathing in deep through my nose and holding it as I counted to ten before releasing.

It had probably just been a normal wave. A ‘Hello there, yes, I’m a dork who drops pizza dough on my head’ wave. He probably wasn’t mad, nor did he want to seek vengeance in blood. He was probably now just standing there, confused by the crazy weirdo who’d dived for cover behind her counter like she was in a war zone under enemy fire.

Alright. Time to pull myself back up. This was salvageable. Just stand and… I don’t know… wave back? Yeah, that sounded like a plan. Okay, you got this.

My legs tensed as I prepared to stand once more. In three… two…

What’d I’d failed to consider, as I’d be learning in two frightfully short seconds, was that there was another possibility. Another string of events that could have and, in fact, were set in motion the moment I’d dropped into hiding. That instead of just staying behind his own counter, the redhead had gotten curious about my odd reaction and had decided to take it upon himself to investigate. Therefore, he’d announced to his coworker that he was taking his ten, allowing him to leave his little pizzeria and cross the food court on a course heading straight for the ice cream shop directly across the way.

I have to wonder… and I mean really, really wonder… what were the odds?

The odds that he’d stop in front of the counter right across from where I was concealed.

The odds that he’d be leaning over it to look down at me exactly as I was springing back up to stand.

The odds that his lips were positioned just perfectly for my own to come crashing into his as I looked up.

 That’s right.

I’d frigging kissed him.

...Hey, universe? It’s me, Elsa. If you’re listening, now would be a really great time for me to spontaneously develop the ability to rewind time by, say, I don’t know… thirty seconds so I can make completely different life choices.

...No? Not happening?

Well fudge.

Author's note: BEHOLD! There, at long last, having traded his spinning chakrams in for spinning pizzas, is our favorite Fire Boy! Or rather… there his lips are anyway… hehehe… xD Trust me, the fun is only beginning, you're in for one rollercoaster of a ride with this story!

So here we finally get the main setting for a majority of this story - what is basically the universe of KH transformed into a mall xP So many stupid little references will abound in the chapters to come, I'm sure you'll get sick of it! And I know Frozone/Incredibles isn't in KH, but that is a travesty which I had to correct by including him in this fic! I mean, c'mon, he's perfect for working at an ice cream shop alongside Elsa! As for Kristoff, I know he's normally a big ol' softie, but don't forget he had his whole tough guy routine when he first met Anna at the beginning of the movie! And as you can see, he's already starting to warm up to Elsa. And all the food court restaurants and faces (yes, even the cat) this chapter were KH/Disney references, some might be more obvious than others tho… but if any were too vague, Elsa will get to meet a lot of them in the chapters ahead so that should clear 'em all up! Oh, and ice cream flavor names! I'm not gonna miss an opportunity to steal all those ice creams from BBS, but come on, this was Sora, so OF COURSE I had to make up something that was Paopu flavored for him! I imagine the description of the Paopu Paradise flavor on the menu is something like: "Made with real Paopu fruit straight from Destiny Islands with little star sprinkles swirled in! Legend has it if two people share this ice cream, their destinies become intertwined."

In any case, on to the more pressing question… how will our lil ball of nerves Ice Queen handle this mortifying "greeting" with her new redheaded friend that she has yet to even learn the name of? Hope you stay tuned to find out in the next chapter! Thank you so much for reading!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[love-and-yukhei]

Never Forget Me || Lucas

summary: Lucas meets Mina while in another country, in need of a translator. after spending three days together, he has to return home. they have a last minute argument, leaving Mina feeling uneasy. struggling to understand her feelings, she gives in and apologizes. the apology is more than either one of them ever expected it to be.

pairing: Lucas x OC

word count: 3.8k

warnings: suggestive themes, descriptive making out but not quite smut, lap sitting, ass grabbing

author’s note: this is an alternate chapter to my main fan fiction. i wrote this wanting to play around with a different sort of ending. i wrote this over a year ago and it was my first time writing something different from what i’m used to. some parts of the story may only make sense in the context of my fan fiction.

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   When I heard his call end , I got up to see what he was doing. Peeking out my door , I could see that he had his dress shirt back on and was in the process of putting his accessories back on as well.

   “I have to go.” he said flatly. I guess he really was mad at me. Rightfully so , but I had never heard him talk to me like that before. It made me feel guilty.

   “Have a safe trip.” I said in a quiet voice. This whole situation made me feel hurt. He was going back to Korea , with the possibility of me never seeing him again. I thought I would be happy he was leaving , so I didn’t have to deal with him anymore , but could I really let him leave with this much tension between us ? I was happy to not be teased and annoyed anymore , but it didn’t feel right ; him leaving without that pure smile on his face.

   “Wait.” I yelled quickly walking over to him. He stopped in front of the door , turning to look at me. Still no smile. I didn’t like the look he was giving me. It was void of any emotion.

   “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was being cold towards you. You’ve been kind to me every day , even if you found teasing me amusing. I never thanked you for saving me from Hideyo and taking me home the first night. You didn’t have to stay and take care of me , but I appreciate that you did. You may have gone a little overboard when you rushed here during the storm , but I know you did it for my sake. I should have thanked you for that too. And I should apologize for hitting you in the face. I’m not sure why I did that.” I finished my apology with a bow that was deeper than necessary. I didn’t mean to say all that. It just sort of all came out at once.

   I didn’t hear anything back , so I slowly stood back up only to find him throwing his arms around my neck , hugging me. Whenever he hugged me , it always made me realize how tall he is. That gave me other weird feelings.

   “You don’t have to thank me for any of that. I enjoyed being around you. If I’m being honest , I wasn’t actually mad at you just now. I wanted to see how you would react if you thought I was mad.”

   I had played right into his scheme. I hated how he always found a way to get me to do exactly what he wanted. It frustrated me. He’d only known me a few days , but he already had me figured out. Maybe he paid more attention to me than I thought ?

   “And just so you know , I was actually awake from the moment you poked my arm.” That evil , teasing laugh of his returned , along with my feelings of annoyance. It was getting exhausting switching between being annoyed and whatever that other feeling was. He pushed himself away from me before I could get a good hit in. Now he was probably thinking all kinds of strange things.

   “One more thing , so you don’t forget about me.” he said moving towards me once again.

   I didn’t expect what came next. My body was frozen while my brain tried to process what was happening. When I realized his lips were pressed against mine , I tried pushing him off , knowing this wasn’t a good idea. I pushed on his chest as hard as I could , but it was no use. One of his giant hands was holding my face in place , his long fingers firmly holding onto the back of my neck.

   Well , I guess it was just a kiss. How intense could it possibly get ? He was leaving to go to another country anyways. There was a good chance I might never see him again , so what could it hurt ? Well it might hurt if I had romantic feelings for him , but that wasn’t even possible. How can you even fall for someone in the span of three days ? I can always play into whatever he’s planning and just see what happens.

   I stopped pushing on him and instead moved my hands so they were now around his neck. I interlaced my fingers together and pulled down on him , pulling him closer while I returned his kiss. He seemed surprised , but excited about my reaction. His fingers started gently pulling on the hair on the back of my neck , sending tingles down my neck and throughout my body. He probably shouldn’t do that if he doesn’t plan on taking this any further. Although if he did , I don’t think I would fight against the idea at this point , even knowing it was a bad choice. No , I can’t think like that. Maybe I should end this now ? My body and my brain were not communicating with each other properly , considering I ignored every ‘stop’ my brain was screaming at me.

   He chose to test me even further by trying to sneak his tongue into my mouth. Again , I was unsure if pushing this further was a good idea or not , but I couldn’t help myself. He already tasted too damn good and I needed more. I let him do what he wanted , but I responded in just the same way.

   If he was going to test me , then I was going to do the same to him. I let go of his neck and ran my hands down his chest. He flinched at the sudden touch , but didn’t move away as I moved my hands around to the small of his back and gripped at his shirt. He let out a small laugh , amused at this game we were playing.

   I think he knew what I was doing , because he too changed what he was doing. His hand that was previously gripping at my cheek was now gently gliding down my side ; his fingertips creating shivers over every part they touched until he reached my waist , which he gripped at , aggressively pulling me into him. He was being gentle before , but now that I was getting testy , his real personality was beginning to surface. I think I liked this side better.

   The feeling of now being pressed up against him with his fingertips digging into my back was giving me other ideas that I didn’t have before. He must have read my mind too , as he decided to try something a little more dangerous. He broke off the kiss , which I wasn’t happy about until I felt his lips on my cheek. He made sure to tease me by nibbling on my ear lobe a bit , causing my breathing to get heavier than it already was. He laughed for a second , but he wasn’t completely satisfied by that reaction. As he moved down to my neck , I instinctively moved one of my hands back up to his neck. He moved down lower and lower until he got to the nape of my neck. There , he started nibbling , causing me to dig my nails into the back of his neck in response. That was not a reaction he had expected. At the feeling of my nails clawing at him , he bit down hard. Surprised , I let out a short moan as he also sucked at my skin , surely causing it to turn colors. I wasn’t concerned about that at the moment. I was more focused on our game. Somehow he had gotten the upper hand on me and forced me to make a sound without intending to. I wasn’t about to let him win.

   I tried to think of something I could do to turn things around in my favor , although thinking straight was hard being in the blissful haze that he was causing. I realized that the couch was only a few feet away. If I could catch him off guard , I could make this work.

   I waited a few more seconds , resisting that blissful feeling until he finally stopped. He brought his face back up to my level , which is when I acted. I pushed him off me with probably a little too much force , but it was necessary to move someone who was 140 pounds of muscle. He fell back onto the couch , just like I had planned. Before he had time to process what was happening , I jumped on top of him.

   Now that I had him in this position , I wasn’t quite sure what I should do. Was this too much ? Surely he hadn’t planned on things going this far. I was now the one making sure he wouldn’t forget me. I didn’t want him to go back to Korea and forget the translator he met back in Japan , even if I never saw him again. The thought of him forgetting me made my heart hurt somewhere. While I was thinking this , I noticed I had been sitting there , straddling him with one hand on his neck while the other was pressed against his cheek , brushing his face with my thumb. I must have had a contemplative look on my face because he spoke for the first time in what seemed like hours.

   “What is it ?” he asked looking concerned. I didn’t want him to know I may actually have real feelings for him beyond that of a friend , which is what I had considered him after spending all this time together. Maybe he was more than that now ? Maybe he’s been more than that from the start ?

   “It’s nothing.” I replied before forcing my brain to turn itself off again and became a slave to my instincts.

   I kissed him harder this time , needing to forget about my insecurities. His hands were on both of my legs , trying to decide if it was okay to move them any further. It seemed even he was apprehensive about crossing that line. Still , I wanted to push things further , dancing on the edge of the point of no return.

   I removed both of my hands from his neck and started to unbutton his shirt. I was happy he didn’t try to stop me. I don’t think he was even sure about what I was about to do. Hell I didn’t even know what I was doing. My hands were moving all on their own now.

   Once that job was done , I was left with the question of what to do next. Taking his shirt completely off might be grounds for him to stop me , so I settled for something else. Ever since I realized he had perfect biceps , I had been curious about if he had muscles elsewhere too. I slowly slid my hands up his undershirt and over his abs to find that I was definitely correct. He flexed at the feeling of my hands searching him. At the same time he kissed me harder , more passionately than before. This must have been the signal he was waiting for to know he didn’t have to hold back as much as he was. His hands made their way slowly up to my behind , gripping at every part of my body that he could reach. We were definitely walking on thin ice now. I know I needed to stop , but at this point he was insatiable. I wasn’t ever going to get enough !

   I continued to touch him , moving up higher every time. The harder he gripped at me , the more I got lost in him. He wanted me just as badly , if not more than I wanted him.

   This time , I was the one to break off and place kisses all down his neck , starting from his chin. My real goal here was to get at his collarbone that had been toying with me for a while now. He made quiet , breathy noises as I finally got to his collarbone. His breathing was starting to get more erratic the lower I moved as well.

   It was the most intoxicating thing I had felt in a long time. Actually , I don’t think I’ve ever felt this drunk on a person. He annoyed the hell out of me and sometimes I did try to avoid him , but when he wasn’t around things were boring and I felt almost lonely. Truthfully , I really didn’t want him to leave. I was ready to do what I had to do to make him stay.

   He was now starting to lose the control that he had managed to maintain this entire time , though he was still fighting me. I still planned to win this game , even if I could only have a small victory. I stopped the assault my hands were now having on his chest and moved my hands over to his back. I dug my nails into his back starting from his spine , as I moved back to kissing his perfect lips. He kissed me back , now twice as desperate as before. His arms were now wrapped around my waist in a hug , pulling me as close to him as I could possibly get. I dug in harder after my nails had made their first round from his back to his sides.

   I don’t know how he managed to not be overly excited at this point , but he was definitely close. I knew I was close to getting what I wanted because he tried to speak up in between kisses.

   “Mina , you have to stop.”

   I ignored him and silenced him with another kiss. He told me to stop , but he wasn’t actually doing anything about it. I kept going , even after he tried pleading with me again. Like me , his body was betraying his mind. I would kill to know what he was thinking right now. If anything , I needed to make him stop thinking. I know if I pushed things just a little more , I would get there.

   To my dismay , his brain finally overrode his actions. He knew words weren’t going to do any good in this situation. It happened quick enough to shock me into stopping. I’m not quite sure what happened. One minute I was on top of him , the next he had both my arms pinned down to the couch , hovering over me. He had moved fast so my back hit the couch harder than he meant it to , but he managed to avoid my head hitting the arm of the couch. My legs were still wrapped around his waste though. I know he would never let me fall , but my body refused to completely let go.

   “Mina , you have to stop ! I’m trying to show a bit of restraint here.” he said still breathing hard.

   “You’re the one who started all this !” I complained. How could he ask me to stop when this only happened because of him ?

   “I didn’t intend to take it that far. Your reaction was...unexpected.”

   “Well what did you expect then ?” I was curious as to what he had been thinking when he started this game. It was a small win however , knowing that I didn’t do exactly what he had wanted. I threw his entire plan off.

   He stopped for a minute either trying to think of an answer or thinking about how to word what he wanted to say in English. I must have made his brain malfunction a bit.

   “Not that.”

   I was confused at this point. Was this just another moment that he was teasing me , or did he mean more by it ? Those blissful feelings I had been lost in had suddenly given way to the annoyance I was starting to feel again. What the hell did he want from me then ?

   “Do you not want me then ?”

   I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I had been trying to keep my feelings to myself , despite what had just went on. I thought I could still get away with using the excuse of being lost in the moment.

   He looked at me funny , like I had just posed the most ridiculous question in the world.

   “That’s not it at all. I really wouldn’t mind taking this further , but if we do that now , it could ruin whatever relationship it is that we have now. I know you’re not the type to just do this for no reason. You’re a bit more special to me than someone like that.”

   Okay , was not expecting that for an answer. I wondered exactly what he meant by me being ‘special’ to him. Suddenly , I wanted him more than I did even before all this. It was rare for me to give into someone saying sweet nothings to me like that.

   I did have one more excuse to continue our heated session.

   “What if I never see you again ?”

   Now this question really threw him off. He had been convinced just last night that I hated him. Now I was essentially begging him not to leave.

   He looked perplexed by my questioning. I felt his grip on my wrists tighten for a second. I watched as he watched me , contemplating on whether he should just give in or not. He took a deep breath before answering me.

   “If that’s what you’re worried about , I’ll make sure to see you again , one way or another. I don’t want to leave. We can continue this some other time , don’t worry.”

   Thinking about what I had said , I felt guilty now. I made it sound like I was guilting him into finishing the job , but that wasn’t my intention. I asked that question seriously. His decision was the correct one though. I was back and forth about how I felt about him. It wouldn’t be fair to him to be with him while I’m still confused.

   “Fine , I’ll stop.” I conceded when I finally found my words again. Somehow our roles had switched. I was the one who was acting on their feelings , while he was now the voice of reason.

   I thought he would let go of me after I let go of his waist , but he still didn’t move. He just smiled down at me with that sweet smile that drove me insane. This position wasn’t helping the situation much either. The thought of him holding me down made my imagination run away with itself. I had to bring myself back quickly to make sure I would stick to my word.

   “You can let go of me now.”

   “Oh yeah.”

   It was still another minute before he moved off me. I could tell it took all he had to make his body move. His mind must have still been thinking about other things the same way mine was.

   He reached out his hand to help me back up , pulling me up with more force than he needed to. Our bodies collided together , making things even worse.

   “Sorry.” he said quickly moving away from me.

   I guess all that tension that had been between us these past 3 days had been different from what I had initially thought. I thought I was just annoyed by him , but it turns out that wasn’t the case. What it really was , I didn’t know.

   After buttoning his shirt back up , he looked at me and started laughing.

   “What are you laughing about ?” I was annoyed thinking he was laughing at me.

   “Whatever you do , don’t look in the mirror.”

   “Why not ?”

   He didn’t answer me , so I walked over to the table where I had set my phone down earlier. I turned on the camera to see what he was talking about. I must have had a look of pure anger on my face because he started backing away from me. I knew he had left a mark on my neck , but I didn’t know it was that bad. It was big and dark enough that it would be impossible to hide without using make up and making an effort to hide it. That would be complicated , since it was summer. To make matters worse , I had to be at work in a few hours.

   “This looks horrible !” I yelled walking over to him. He was laughing , like always.

   “I couldn’t help it ! You were the one clawing at my neck ! I’m sure you left plenty of marks too that I’m not going to have any way of explaining.”

   I must have finally cracked , because I broke out into laughter. There wasn’t actually anything funny about this situation , but I thought it was funny that both of us were in a similar dilemma.

   He smiled and walked over to me , suddenly hugging me now. Hadn’t we just gotten ourselves out of this situation ?

   “I did figure something out though.”

   Now I was confused again. What exactly had he figured out ?

   “What’s that ?” I probably didn’t want to know the answer , but I asked anyways.

   “I know you might deny having any type of feelings for me , but your body said something completely different just now. I’ll let you keep on lying , for now. Don’t expect to get so lucky the next time I see you though.”

   I pushed him off me , ready to once again deny feeling any such way when he suddenly kissed me one last time. I was surprised so I ended up kissing him back. This time , he actually was teasing me. I wish he would just let me breathe already ! I pushed him off before I started getting that dizzying feeling again. If that kicked in , there would be no stopping me. I would find a way to convince him not to leave. He laughed , knowing I would’ve reacted that way.

   He was just about to leave after putting his shoes back on when he stopped and turned to me.

   “You don’t have to worry about me forgetting about you while I’m in Korea. Your memory was already burned into my mind after our first meeting. If anything , I find you twice as interesting as I originally did.”

   He gave me a cheesy wink before finally leaving. I shrank down into the couch. Somehow , he understood that I was concerned about him forgetting me without me having to say a word about it.

   Now that I was alone , all I could think about was what had just taken place. Why had I acted that way so suddenly ? Whenever he was around , it seemed like my brain would turn into mush. I always hung onto his every word. It drove me crazy that I didn’t understand why I felt that way. I’m not the type of person to do things like that , ever. He always confused my head and made my heart hurt.

   I had no interest in trying to sort out my feelings right now. I had more important things to do , like figuring out how the hell I was going to hide this ugly mark.

[kinsbin]

Self Care and Sunsets [Xena/James]

Title: Self Care and Sunsets Ship: Xena/James [Self Insert/OC] Word Count: 4,096

Summary: Xena asks James to stay home with her for a day and spend some time working on self  care for the both of them. James agrees and the two learn just what they find wonderful about the home they built together.

A/N: I REMEMBERED MY INTENSE AND UNDYING LOVE FOR @nadineselfships‘s oc James Sinclair and I accidentally went a bit ham writing a fic for me and him. I just want the man to hold me and love me and make it so its only us okay....

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It was warm at The Ranch. Undeniably a result of the oncoming summer weather that settled itself within the rolling hills of Montana in the oncoming months. It brought with it a slight stickiness with humidity and the beginnings of thunderstorms brewing far in the distance that always made the horses uneasy when they caught a whiff of the scent of its waters. Sometimes, even in his bedroom, James could hear the soft and uneasy whinnies of the steeds somewhere far in the corral, prompting him to stand and check on the beasts in hopes that he could calm then down with oats and a few extra blankets within their stables for the nights. Right now though? All was quiet and safe, a comforting warmth simply edging its way into the old wood of the home as he breathed in the scent of pen ink and paper as he continued his letter to Mother on the recent acquisitions of land from the Seed’s rebellion forces along his territory. He wrote away on his bed, papers across his lap and books at his side with maps of Hope County open in scribbled notes of highlights. It was a comfortable way to work, though it did a number on his back, and he was almost finished enough for him not to bother with moving to his desk. 

That was when the door swung open.

It was rare for Xena not to knock. He had always insisted that, if she really needed something, knocking wasn’t necessary and she could simply come into his room whenever she wanted. She rarely allowed herself that pleasure though, preferring a polite tap onto his door and a call of his name as she waited for the permission of his voice to let her inside. James paused and looked up from his work, realizing that whatever had happened must have somehow been enough to get Xena to forego that rule in favor of simply entering in an effort to garner his attention.

With the look on her face, he realized, it probably wasn’t good.

No sooner had he thought it before she had flung herself across him. James had barely any time to move the papers he was working on and, even then, some still managed to crumple themselves under her as she lay her chest across his legs and simply sat there, face in the sheets and piles of books he had out, hanging half off the bed as a deep sigh echoed from between her lips. James blinked once. Twice. The slow process of his mind began to click into gears together as he reached out and ruffled his smaller girlfriend’s hair with a slow gentility. His large hands wove between the short ruby strands with tender, loving care as he leaned forward and kissed the back of her head, making her shiver.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

The nickname flowed from his lips naturally and it made Xena’s heart flutter to hear it from his lips as she shut her eyes tighter for a moment and then rolled her body over so that she was looking up at James rather than down on the sheets. James let himself smile slightly at the sight of her glasses, crooked on her face as she pouted upwards with something between boredom and anxiety written in her expression. His hand continued to pet at her hair, twirling each strand as she reached up with one of her hands and found his free one, entwining her fingers with his as she took a long, deep breath and bit her lip.

He waited for her to speak as he always did. Sometimes Xena simply took a long time to form words with her mouth, a process she was better at putting on paper than vocally as everyone seemed to want her to do. Her letters to Nadine and The Mother were always so eloquent and carefully put together, masterpieces of words strung in coherent tapestries who painted themselves into near moving pictures with the fluidity of her statements. Xena had told him one, offhandedly, that she had been studying in University to be an author before settling down in Hope County with him. He could believe it.

“I...” Xena’s voice was soft as she spoke, “I want to... I want to be selfish today, James.”

“Selfish?” His eyebrow raised in a questioning look at her, “How so?”

“I...” Xena groaned and covered her face with one hand, the other that still held his own squeezing nervously, “I don’t know it’s just that! Everything going on out there... The world and the Seeds an the fighting and the choosing sides I... It’s too much today. It’s just too much and I don’t want to listen to it or handle any of it! And I just-! It’s too much!”

She paused in her ranting to look up at him, her heart tightening at his face as tears welled in her eyes and the beginnings of a pout formed on her lips. Frowning, James reached out and slowly wiped away the tears from under her glasses, the calloused texture of his hands bringing nothing but comfort to the girl beneath him as she nuzzled into his touch and side up, gaze bright like a does as she continued to pout despite herself. The movement of her lips combined with the red flush of her cheeks as she stressed painted her in such a beautifully cute picture that James could feel his heart tighten in adoration even before her next request:

“So I-I want to be selfish today... Don’t go out today, okay? Can you just... stay in here... with me?”

The phrase and the face that added to it all but winded James as he let his breath exhale in a shaky sound of awe. His hand gripped on hers tighter for a moment as he considered her request, well, as he pretended to consider it. In reality his mind was made up. From the moment that red faced, near teary pout perched itself on her gaze he knew that she would get him to agree to whatever the selfish request was. This was no exception as he finally leaned forward and capture her lips in a long, languid kiss.

“I can do that,” James agreed with a smile breaking on his mouth, making one form on hers as she gazed up at him in excitement, “Let me finish this last letter and I’m all yours for the day, okay doll?”

“O-Okay!”

Xena sat up quickly, pausing in her movements to shuffle around and then throw herself at him into a hug, embracing around his neck and nuzzling herself into the side of his face as she sighed with relief, the ghosting of her breath sending a shiver down James’ spine as he smiled and hugged her back. His hand rested nicely in the small of her spine as she tightened her grip on him, as though afraid that he might slip from her arms like sand. He placed a kiss on her forehead in return, smiling into it and listening to her laugh at how the stubble of his jaw tickled her forehead. Their bodies pressing so close together only helped to remind James even more of why he loved her.

Once Xena had left the room and the letter to Mother was completely finished, sealed and signed off in accordance to their system, James exited his room and searched around for his girlfriend.

Sure enough he found her in the kitchen, sitting on one of the counters as she idly flipped through a cook book that he had gotten her for a present. The holiday escaped him (christmas or her birthday, he assumed) but his heart still swelled to see her so attentively reading something he had gotten for her. Her love of cooking shone in every dish she made out of the book, an unforgettable and enjoyable taste testing always open for him when she decided to experiment with her food. 

He approached her and kissed her again, hugging her close as he tilted his head down at her. Xena smiled and pushed the book away in favor of wrapping her legs around James’ waist and hugging him close, inhaling the scent of his cologne and natural musk as she exhaled out with a comforting noise. He was a perfect combination of both scents. He was a perfect scent of home. 

“Well,” He smiled down, “You have me for the day, don’t you? What did you want to do?”

Xena bit her lip, her hands twirling the hair on the back of his neck as she spoke out her desires:

“I... wanted you to shave my head.”

“I- really?”

James blinked, looking up at the strands of ruby red that decorated Xena’s head and touching at them curiously.

“Like down to the scalp?”

“Nah, maybe with like... an inch of hair or something?” Xena bit her lip and smiled, “I’ve wanted to do it for a while and, I figured, us being inside all day together maybe It’d be a good chance to have someone do it for me and... we can see how we like it?”

Her eyes glowed with worry. Worry that he would say no. Worry that he would scoff at her and tell her just how bad it would look if they did so. All the fear of rejection painted itself so vulnerably on Xena’s face all at once that James’ heart hurt just looking at the expression. Reaching out, he took one of her hands and planted a kiss in its palm, smiling into it as he gave a nod and squeezed her tightly against him in a reaffirming gesture of togetherness.

“Alright,” He agreed with little hesitation, “I’ll do it.”

Xena’s eyes shone with excitement and disbelief. He would? Her heart leapt at the thought and her scalp itched in itself to be free. Xena moved to unwrap herself eagerly from her boyfriend and make her way to the bathroom, but James’ hands kept her on his hips and steady as her legs were forced to wrap tighter around his waist. Blinking, the confusion only lasted for a split second before James moved and Xena was heaved upwards with him, making her yell through a laugh as her arms flung themselves around his neck for balance. James’ grinned with a mischievous laugh before kissing her again and walking with her, carefully, to the master bathroom.

The wide marble space smelled of delicious soaps and tea tree oil, surrounding the two in a warmth they loved as Xena was set on the counter again, her back to the mirror as James unwound her from his form in favor of searching for the clippers that he used on his own hair and beard whenever he felt they grew too unkempt. 

“Are you sure?” James asked again, not about shaving her head but about him doing it as he swallowed, “I’ve only ever done my own hair... I tried to do Nadine’s once but they weren’t exactly happy with how short I cut it and-”

“I trust you.” Xena’s words were final as she nodded, taking off her glasses and putting them to the side as she smiled, her lips parted so perfectly that James’ felt his breath catch as he nodded. Taking a deep and shaky breath, the man flipped the clippers on. The sound of their whirring echoed as the only noise in the otherwise quiet bathroom and, with careful hands, he brought them down to Xena’s head.

Her locks fell like red snow against the bright tiled floor. Pieces of her locks tickled at his fingertips as he ran the edge of the clippers carefully along the shape of her scalp, feeling the softness that replaced the tangle of hair atop her head as she lost it inch by inch. She was pliable in his arms though, easily moving when he needed her to tilt her head or look a certain direction. The entire time her eyes were closed, her lips parted into a near purr of enjoyment as the feeling of the machine running against her scalp gave her a sense of comfort through the anxiety and exhaustion she had been feeling for nearly a week. 

He spent a few moments more cleaning up edges and feeling her hair to make sure it was even before turning the clippers off, looking on at the expanse of her smooth head and the thin layer of hair that now covered it, short and neat as he reached a hand out to gently pat the scalp. It felt like a dog with a short coat, he mused with a smile.

“There,” James finally declared, “What do you think?”

Xena took a moment to shake her head free of any extra small hairs before putting her glasses back on and turning her head to the mirror with a slow movement.

Her breath hitched and her eyes widened, her face flushing in awe as she reached up to touch at the soft buzzcut she now sported. Gaping at it for so long, it began to make James slightly nervous as he furrowed his brow.

“It’ll grow back, I mean, if you don’t like it and-”

“No!” Xena interrupted him with a gasp, “No, James, I... I love it! I wanted this for so long and now I just-” She grinned, all teeth and excitement as she held his hand, “It’s perfect, thank-you!”

She looked so... happy. Over something so small... He couldn’t help but smile back and laugh as he touched the smoothness of her cut again in awe.

“It suits you,” James declared appreciatively, “You look cute~.”

“Stop it,” Xena blushed and nudged him lightly with a foot, “We’re covered in my hair now though... We should probably take a bath or something.”

“Right,” James laughed, “If you want to go first I can-”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“I wanted to... I mean we could just-” Xena blushed as she gestured between them, “Take one together?”

James felt his ears go red as the two of them stared at one another for the longest of moments, the echoes of nothingness heavy between them as slowly, surely, James found himself nodding dumbly at the thought. His heart beat faster with every second they didn’t say anything and Xena’s smile was so shy and soft in its shape that he had to stop himself from punching a wall in order to regain some semblance of his composure. Instead he watched her move to the large porcelain tub that sat itself neatly on the side of the bathroom and turn the golden lacquered handles on, listening as the straining pipes fed steaming water into the container. 

It wasn’t until Xena tested the halfway filled tub and began taking off her clothes that James jumped into action, his own movements twisting and fumbling as he scrambled for his own shirt, making Xena laugh somewhere in front of him as she searched around the bathroom, now shirtless, for some bath salts to slip into their shared experience.

Soon enough she found some and the water shortly smelled of lavender and eucalyptus, a heady and rich scent that made James reel in its presence as the fog of the hot water began to condense along the mirror. Both stripped of their clothing, James got in first and Xena followed shortly after, her back pressing to his front as the two of them leaned together in the warmth of the tub. 

Xena exhaled as the warm water soothed her aching, tense bones. She felt her back slowly relax, the knots that had formed in it fading with ever second the salts soaked into her body. Small strips of hair from the shave washed themselves down their forms as they soaked together, James’ hands finding her hips and rubbing gently on the bare skin there as his head rested atop her own. Xena smiled, feeling the beating of her lover’s heart as she leaned into him and pet at one of his knees, admiring his form for a long moment as they sat in comfortable silence, letting the echo of the faucet dripping fill the void.

James let his hands ghost across his lover, finding spots on the back of her neck and shoulders to place slow, loving kisses in patterns he didn’t pay attention to. She tasted like the bath salts and the feeling of his mouth made her shiver against him, making James smile into her skin as he let his hands roam up and down her body with a gentility that made Xena melt into his touch. He always touched her like this, she half realized as she shut her eyes, like she was something precious. Like she was a delicate being made to be worshipped and admired before anything else. It made her feel... loved. Accepted. Needed.

Something she hadn’t experienced before.

The thought made her wince and she looked down at the visible parts of her bare body, noting the various scars that dribbled themselves across her tanned skin like unwelcome flecks of snow. Bright white scars from picking at her skin in an aimless compulsion shone all along her arms and stomach, matching alongside the deep gashes of cuts from times in the past that she didn’t feel as loved as she was now. Decorated callouses of her hands along with childhood scars of accidentally stapling fingers and slamming thumbs into car doors. Of burning herself with hot oil and getting scratched by a cat, all labeled so precisely on her body that it made her frown tighten on her lips the more she thought about it. Could he really love someone like that? Did he really kiss her like she was made to be worshipped if she had all of these scars.

“Hey.”

James spoke as though he could sense her worry, her head tilting upwards to make eye contact with the man behind her. He looked down at her, his brows furrowed with a serious look she had only ever seen when he was concentrating on something important. It made her blush under its scrutiny as his hands touched at her collar bone and his lips found hers in a slow, awkward kiss that tasted like soap and mint and oils but was full of such a passion that she couldn’t help but shiver.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispered with his lips still against her own, “I won’t ever let you forget that.”

“Hah,” She smiled weakly, “You sure about something like that? I’m not.”

James leaned down to kiss her again, trailing his lips to her cheek and down her neck, kissing spots on her shoulder and down her arms, paying attention to spots that were particularly marked up with her habitual scarification. Xena shivered with each and ever scraggly kiss pressed into herself, her body leaning further into James as he continued to worship her with every movement. 

Each kiss was fire on Xena’s body, sending shockwaves up her torso and into her stomach as she whimpered and twisted both with worry and enjoyment all at once, feeling his mouth so far against her made her feel so vulnerable... It was beautiful and warm and scary all at once. Eventually James made it to her ear, his breath hot in the shell of it as he kissed there as well and smiled so wide she could feel it against her skin.

“You’re beautiful to me, that’s something isn’t it?”

Xena laughed and could only nod.

“I suppose so.”

The bath ended and the two of them climbed out, helping one another dry off and remove the stray pieces of hair that still vaguely lingered against their skin before returning to the bedroom to slip on some clothes. Xena had made it a point to steal one of James’ large sweaters, slipping it on alongside a pair of his boxers in the defense that her clothes were always so uncomfortable and, when she was trying to relax, his scent and his softer articles had always helped her in one way or another. He couldn’t find enough refusal to protest, of course, as seeing his girlfriend in nothing but a sweater far too big for her and a pair of hiked up boxers was a delightful treat to his eyes and ego. 

He couldn’t stop watching as the collar of the large sweater slid off of her shoulder, revealing the expanse of skin to him in all of its glory and James had the indescribably urge to kiss it yet again as he leaned forward and did just that, his warm breath ghosting as Xena laughed and gently ruffled at his hair. 

“You’re worse than the dog,” Xena laughed as she raised an eyebrow.

“At least I don’t smell like him, yeah?” James teased.

“Well SOMETIMES-”

“Hey!”

They nuzzled one another through their laughs, James pressing another kiss to her lips before they stood up and looked out one of the windows, Xena’s eyes widening with delight.

“Oh wow,” She whispered, “Sunset already... Can we go watch it?”

James smiled and nodded, allowing her to grab him by the hand and gently lead him towards the front porch of their home, facing the way of the sun as it slowly sunk in the skyline in the distance.

Xena sat on the porch, her legs dangling lightly on the wood as she watched the sky paint itself hues of brilliant blues and pinks and yellows and oranges all at once. The clouds turned a rich flamingo pink as they moved across the lazy skyline of the mountainside, some peaking behind the shadows of dense trees and the others overcoming them completely. James found himself at her side, an arm around Xena’s shoulder as he pulled her close to him. Xena complied, leaning on his shoulder and sighing with awe as the two of them gazed out at the expanse of wilderness they owned. That they lived in.

Xena vaguely remembered the hustle of the city life she had once lead. The business of traffic and the running for busses she might not even catch. Everything in her life had always moved so fast and for so long that she could never remember how to stop moving. How to slow herself down enough to enjoy even the smallest thing. That was one of the reasons that brought her out on a road trip to Montanna. It was something that lead her here, to James and the Sinclairs and all the beauty that Hope County had to offer as the sun continued to fade in the distance, bit by bit, and James’ arms became more of a home than the city ever was.

“Enjoy your day?” James wondered as he kissed her forehead. Xena purred and nuzzled into him, a leg flying around one of his as she tangled herself as close as possible to her boyfriend.

“I did,” She admitted as she kissed his jaw, feeling the stubble on her lips and the way he tensed with surprise at the contact, only to melt into it when she pressed another one a little higher up on his jawline, “Everything was... perfect, James I... Thanks for staying with me. I appreciate it and... I’m sorry if I took you away from anything important or-”

“You didn’t,” James interrupted before she could fumble out more sorries, “Sweetheart, any time I get to spend with you is better than any work I have to do, bar none. Trust me when I say I’d rather be here with you any day.”

“Sounds a bit much.”

“Well it’s the truth,” James nuzzled her again, “I can prove it to you if you want.”

“Oh you can?”

Her smile was playful. As was his. The two came together again in a long, languid kiss that engulfed them both as much as the sunset seemed to. 

And it was in that moment she felt loved. She felt wanted by all the forces of nature that surrounded her. By the lips that consumed her own in the most vehement of ways as they, too, showed their appreciation for her existence. It was as though all the stars in the sky aligned to point her there, in the direction of a sunset atop a beautiful ranch with a handsome man on a patio made of redwood and warmth beyond all else.

Yes. Beyond all else, Xena decided as she kissed James deeper, this was where she belonged.

This was home. 

[powered-by-paranoia]

Of Mutual Trust and Other Myths | Chapter 1

Chapter 2

genre: angst, fluff, slow burn, (eventual) smut

pairing: Loki x OC // Loki x Reader

summary: A long time ago, when the telephone had barely been invented on Midgard, a secret organization made a pact with a powerful Asgardian figure. After twenty years of training, the organization's best agent was smuggled into Asgard, as one of the terms of the pact. The woman ends up working undercover as a librarian, and patiently waits for opportunities to dig her claws into the inner politics and circles of Asgard. But despite all the magic tricks, how trustworthy can a human weapon really be, when the humanity starts to show?

words: 3036

Chapter One: Fools Rush In

“I wish there was an easier way, child. You know how I hate to watch you suffer.”

The man’s fingers cupped her cheek, as if prepared to catch any tears that would fall. Her blue eyes looked right into his soul, but there were no tears building up. She looked at him with an expression that said nothing.

“What a relief it is for you, then… that you won’t have to be watching me for quite a while.”

If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought it was a bitter remark. But her soulless eyes only confirmed that her training had been a success. She played the role perfectly – the way she formulated the response and how she voiced it. Everything about her was perfect. Even if he’d probably never see her again, neither chose to bring it up.

“You are humanity’s only hope. Take pride in that,” he continued. The woman’s gaze lowered, and he slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him in some sort of a hug. “Sleep well, Lo. Don’t let me down,” he eventually said, before letting go and stepping out of her room. He knew he wouldn’t get an answer from her. He knew her too well.

Of course she wouldn’t let him down. Of course she wouldn’t let humanity down.

While Annette Hanshaw was singing ‘My Sin’ on the radio, the woman put her dark blonde hair into a bun, lifted the window, and lit herself a Lucky. The wind rushed into the room, making her long satin robe flutter behind her before she could sit on the threshold and pin it down. She inhaled the smoke, knowing it was the last cigarette she’d ever get to smoke. It only made her draw more passionately from it. She stared absently at the moon while the radio played in the background. It was the last time she’d get to listen to jazz.

“ …You've found your happiness

And your love is over, too

But my sin is just the same

I'm still– ”

The song ended abruptly after she elegantly pressed two fingers against the radio button.

---

A few weeks later in the  Asgardian Palace...

There was an unsettling humming in the library, probably caused by the wind that blew through both open windows, but Dolores didn’t give it much thought – not even enough to bother closing one of them. She was absently dusting off a shelf, somewhere near the main entrance of the library, but with her back turned to the massive double doors. And as she rearranged a book that seemed to stick out a little more than the others, her eyes fell upon the title of another one, next to it. ‘Creation of Midgard,’ it read, though in a language that everyone back home called Old Norse. It struck her that if she ever referred to it as ‘Earth’, or to the language spoken here as ‘Old Norse’, everything she had worked towards for almost twenty years would have just gone to waste.

Her training had begun since early age, when she was but a kid hiding in sewers or pickpocketing in order to survive – so one could easily say it was the only thing she had known for most of her life. Lying had come naturally to her, even though she had been chosen mostly for her resemblance to the Asgardians. In time, Dolores had managed to lick into shape the necessary skills for this mission, learn the language and customs of Asgard, as well as memorize the basics of each domain – history, medicine, technology, much to the pleasure of her father.

While her boss wasn’t exactly her father, as she often called him, Dolores did see him as a father figure, since he was the only person close enough to call family. He was the one that had taken her off the streets, offered her food and, most importantly, a purpose. It only came naturally that she would end up wanting to please him, no matter what. Besides, she was doing this for the whole world.

However, she had never met the Asgardian that had contributed to everything. He had never directly coached her or spoken to her. She had heard his voice once, through the telephone, when she had to be assessed. If it hadn’t been for his approval, she would never have ended up on Asgard. But even while being taken to Asgard, she had to be sedated, in order ‘to keep the spell intact’.

It didn’t really phase the woman, besides the fact that she had no certainty if her father had successfully gotten rid of the Asgardian. He had confessed to her that was his plan for after her transport. But since it had already been a few weeks and nobody had come searching for her, it could only mean everything was still going according to plan. Dolores held that thought for a few moments; she realized she didn’t really know how many weeks had passed.

Her short moment of spacing out was interrupted by one of the doors creaking behind her. To that, she didn’t turn around, but just kept dusting off the shelves, hoping that whoever had entered would know how to find what they were looking for. Unfortunately, she heard the footsteps coming closer to her, until they eventually stopped right next to her. She turned her head to look at the visitor, while still maneuvering the cloth.

“I have never seen you around,” the man stated. Before she got the chance to answer, he added, “Where is Rangvald?” He was referring to the old librarian. While she could clearly distinguish a faint smile on his face, she didn’t really feel like returning it in any form. Instead, she went back to focusing on the dust again.

Her response came accompanied by a neutral tone, “Resting. We work in shifts now.” A short moment of silence followed, during which she could feel the man’s eyes fixated on her. She left the cloth on the shelf and eventually offered him her full attention. “Can I help you?” The man raised an eyebrow, his faint smile now having turned into a smirk. His long, black hair framed his pale complexion in a way that made his blue eyes seem even more piercing, but she wasn’t analyzing him like one would analyze a painting, she was merely trying to figure out who he was. There was a glimpse of superiority emanating from him, which only helped her put two and two together, so she continued the question by addressing him directly, “…Loki?”

“So you know who I am. For a moment there, I thought I’d have to introduce myself, judging by your tone.” Of course he’d react that way.

“My tone was in no way meant to be insulting,” she countered. “I apologize if it came out that way.”

Again, there was a brief moment of silence before he turned his back to her and slowly started to walk away. Dolores kept her eye on him, however, but when she decided she could go back to work, the man stopped. She watched him from the corner of her eyes as he only seemed to look around. But then, he broke the silence.

“What’s your name?”

It would have been a lie to say she hadn’t practiced this moment over and over again, until she had almost convinced herself that she was telling the truth. “Ingrid,” she said, not too quickly, nor too late. Knowing she was facing the one and only god of lies, as was one of his aliases back on Earth, did not exactly make her confidence skyrocket. She had eventually learned that she could easily mask that by acting indifferent. So indifferent she became, turning her attention back to her task.

Loki realized that, which made him turn around. He had not sensed any kind of emotion coming from her, which intrigued him slightly. It was expected she would either be nervous or excited to meet him. He was, after all, Loki Odinson. Not everyone had the chance to have a one on one conversation with him. Instead, the woman was just casually minding her business, as if she had met some regular peasant.

“And how long have you been here for?” he continued the questioning.

“A few weeks.”

It almost felt as if someone was repeatedly slamming a door in his face, something he was not used to. As a natural reaction, Loki resorted to the advantage he had over her. “I want you to find this and bring it to me,” he said in a demanding voice, while making a small piece of paper appear into his palm out of thin air. But Ingrid only turned around to look at him when she realized he wouldn’t walk towards her to hand her the piece of paper, thus missing the display of magic. She rapidly walked in front of him and read the title written on the note.

“Sure. I’ll be right back,” she said, already starting to walk away.

“No, you’ll bring it to my chambers.”

She stopped and turned to look at him. “I don’t know where your chambers are.”

He grinned softly as he explained to her how to get there. It seemed bizarre that his chambers were so disconnected and underground, but there was not much she could question. While she knew the plans of the public side of the palace by heart, private chambers and the like had been omitted during her training. Once Loki had finished explaining, she nodded and watched him walk away. Maybe there was something about that grin that made her doubt he was telling the truth.

Since he had not exactly insisted on delivering the book in a short amount of time, Ingrid took her time to finish what she had started, before going to the back of the library to search for the location of the book. She opened the registry book and began searching for the index, not really focusing on the subject of the book. It was only on her way through the dark halls of the palace that she started to wonder what could possibly interest him in a book on botanical arts.

Following Loki’s instructions, she ended up two floors underground, on a dark hallway that was barely being lit by a small torch. It wasn’t enough to fully light up the other end of the hallway, so by the time she got there, Ingrid’s eyes had to adjust to the darkness and she had to guide herself based on the shadows. When she finally reached the wooden door, the rumbling noise coming from behind it signaled that it may not be such a good idea, but she knocked on it nevertheless.

“Come in.”

It was clearly Loki’s voice, but something about it seemed off, as if it had an unusual echo. It wasn’t evident, so she dismissed it, thinking it was just her mind being too paranoid. She searched for the handle and pressed it, pulling the door towards her, and the faint rumbling noise stopped. However, the room was pitch black, and she didn’t quite know what to do. Stepping inside was just too much after all the uncertainty that led her there.

Before she could make a decision, the rumbling reappeared, only this time louder, and it rapidly transformed into a growl. She shrieked when a pair of glowing yellow eyes emerged from the darkness, along with an immense set of sharp teeth. Her reaction came quick enough to drop the book and focus her whole energy on shifting behind the door and trying to push it back, but the creature’s head was stuck in-between. It kept growling, and she could see its paws stretching through the opening, clawing at the floor and trying to push itself out.

She was stuck – it was either she let go of the door and ran away as fast as she could, or she risked being overpowered and maybe even thrown to the floor by the force. Either way, both meant letting loose a beast within the Royal Asgardian palace, in the middle of the peaceful night. Thoughts and options rushed through her mind, but she lost focus when she caught sight of the beast clawing at the book she had thrown to the floor. It dragged the book closer inside, and she could feel the push getting weaker. Eventually, she managed to close back the door and ended up slamming her back against it. When she turned around to check if there was any lock on it, she was met with a completely different view.

Even though the lighting wasn’t in her favor, she could clearly distinguish that the door now had the shape of a vault kind of door, and when she reached out to touch it, it was certainly not made of wood anymore. It was, instead, cold metal. She confirmed it by knocking again. The sound that it made was completely different this time.

“I said, come in.” The same voice greeted her, but there was no echo this time. The voice came from the other end of the hallway, and was followed by a short snicker, as well as a question that would have made her blood boil, had she not been in a delicate situation. “Where’s my book?” She didn’t respond. “And why are you exactly four floors lower than you were supposed to be?”

Ingrid took a few steps towards what she could only assume was Loki’s silhouette. “I am where you told me to be. Go down two floors, you sa–”

“ Up two floors,” he interrupted her. She looked at him as he stepped out of the shadows with her mouth still slightly open after having been cut off. “Go up two floors, I said. Again, where’s my book?”

“Right behind that door, where you told me to bring it.”

They were now close enough to clearly see each other’s expression, and while his anger didn’t seem completely serious, her straight face could possibly betray the opposite. Hearing her shriek had amused him far too much to be able to play the pissed off part, but he tried nonetheless, just to get a reaction out of her. They both knew he had clearly instructed her to go down two floors. “You lost my book.”

It would have been a blatant lie to say she wasn’t tempted to completely go off at the man, but she was looking at her ticket to infiltrating the royal family, so she had to play her card wisely. “I will search for a similar one for you. I apologize. I clearly misunderstood your directions.”

Loki frowned at her. Was she stupid? Was she scared? How could she just give up like that, when it was more than obvious he had lied to her face, and was even rubbing it into her face? No, she couldn’t be scared, judging by the way she was looking right into his eyes. There was no hint of anger – her expression was calm, even. He tried to push her even further. “I wanted that book. Not a similar one.”

Ingrid kept her gaze locked on him. “I will try to find you a copy, then.”

“There is no copy.”

By the gods, how tempting it was to just tell him to jump into the vault and get it back himself. “Then I deeply apologize.” The response silenced him, but he didn’t move out of the way. That caused a good few seconds of heavy silence, as they just stared at one another.

“You’ll be paying for this, you know,” he finally spoke. It seemed to her he really had a hard time trying to figure out what to say in order to provoke her, but she stood her ground.

“I know. I’ll let Rangvald know myself.”

There it was again, that door slam. This encounter, as the previous one, had caught Loki completely unprepared. He was used to tormenting people, especially people that mostly had no power over anything, and each time he could predict the result. Either this woman had an enormous death wish, or she was just incapable of reacting to the environment. Both intrigued him slightly. He kept going, trying to find his exit in exaggeration, “That was Odin’s favorite book.”

Ingrid frowned at him, the doubt in her tone evident. “Was it?”

Loki simply laughed it off and turned his back to her. “Don’t shriek so loudly in these corridors next time. Who knows what other creatures you might wake up.”

A shiver ran down her spine as he walked away back into the darkness, and seemed to completely disappear. She lingered a few more seconds, before rushing through the hallway and back up the stairs, only stopping to regain her focus once having arrived in one of the main halls of the palace. Her heart was beating way faster than liked to admit, but she was finally free to relax. Every effort of controlling herself seemed ten times harder when it came to this man, and they had barely faced each other for more than a few minutes.

It was just something about the fact that he was one of the most probable people to figure her out. And after what he had pulled on her, it seemed the tales of Old Norse mythology weren’t so far from the truth, after all. Up until that day, she had not met any of the members of the royal family – only a handful of councilors and strategists, maybe. While she had made sure to ensure a future connection to some of them, none had until then tried to kill her.

Ingrid stretched her right arm, which she had slightly injured while pushing on that damned door. In hopes that whatever spell had been put on her back on Earth could help her heal as well, she started walking towards her quarters, thinking that maybe tomorrow she’d not feel the bruise anymore. Or maybe she’d gain a new one, after telling Rangvald of how she’d lost a botanical guide to some underground imprisoned creature.

---

notes: hey there, this is my first time posting a fanfic to tumblr. this is still a work in progress (it’s going to be pretty longs, so quite a journey ahead); update times may be weird sometimes. I have the few first chapters already written, which you can find on my ao3. if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know. you can also send me requests if you wish. I’m in desperate need for some inspiration. even though I’ve only written in 1st and 3rd person, I don’t mind trying something new. just let me know :)

[fleur-de-leap]

Too Old For This

Summary: Double date time! FlashFlood (Oleda x Flash) and ArcticBat ( @duchess-winter‘s oc Anya x Batman) going to a club to get some info. This is longer than I’m used to, and could have been a LOT longer, but I was working on it in spurts over a few days and got kinda tired of it so...yeah

Also, outfits were inspired by this cool shop on Etsy, CoquetryClothing!

“I have...so many regrets right now.” Bruce grumbled, following his fellow League Members into the loud building they’d likely spend at least a few hours within. He did not want to be here at all, wanted nothing to do with this… but they’re trying to get information on a suspect who is known to frequent this location, and instead of using his typical tactics, he was…. Convinced, to try and blend in a little more. 

Which is how he found himself in a club full of people younger than himself, in admittedly less clothing, let alone armor, than felt comfortable. Adjusting the borderline mesh shirt he was wearing, the only saving graces being that it was long sleeve, black, and he had been allowed to wear a blank tank top underneath that was designed with a hood, as strange as the design choice was. Taking a small step to the side to let the others in as he took in his surroundings, trying to adjust to the volume and flashing lights, he kept his head down some with the hood up in attempts to hide his face. While they weren’t in Gotham anymore, he was still recognizable and was trying to blend in somewhat. 

Anya came in after him, a small giggle coming from her that Bruce still picked up on despite everything else, feeling some of the tension leave his muscles. “It’s not that bad. Might even do you some good, to do some recon amongst the people instead of from the shadows.” She retorted to his earlier complaint, gently resting a hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him. 

At the very least, she succeeded in distracting him. She looked absolutely wonderful tonight, even if it wasn’t her typical clothing. A black crop top with a small window and silver trim, and a silver high-low skirt that had so much glitter that it caught every small shift… Bruce wasn’t oblivious to the fact she had worn black as an homage to him and his Batsuit. It was flattering. 

However, his admiration of how gorgeous she was was interrupted by Wally and Daniella following in behind them, Wally having the guts to put an arm around Bruce’s neck and giving him a dazzling grin that could rival his own when he is posing for pictures. “Relaaax, it’ll be fine! Might help you loosen up some too.” He teased, but was quick to let go in favor of spreading his arms out and upward, clearly ‘at home’ here. The music was fast paced, and seemed just his style. Speaking of his style, apparently it doesn’t include ‘subtlety’, based on the fact he’s wearing a black shirt with blue and yellow lightning streaking across it that practically glowed under the club’s lights. Pairing that with a pair of black jeans and red sneakers, anyone with a lick of sense would be able to figure out who he was. 

Daniella rolled her eyes but beamed happily as she followed Wally, seeming just as in her element as him. “Oh, be nice Wally.” She scolded playfully, even lightly slapping his arm. She didn’t really seem to understand subtlety either, however she seemed to get the memo about color coordinating to some degree. She had on a red cropped hoodie with a shimmery gold interior, an obvious homage to Wally’s Flash costume. She had on dark red shorts but with a skirt that matched Wally’s shirt, black with blue and yellow lightning. And heels that could probably kill a man with one good kick, but other than that they seemed impractical. She seemed to know what she was doing, though. 

“While it’s great that we get to check out someplace we can actually enjoy, we’re still on a mission. Keep an eye out for our thief, or any information on him we can get.” She reminded, glancing around the room but already swaying to the music. She was absolutely used to this. 

“I call checking the dance floor!” Wally shouted over the music, already rushing off towards it as quickly as he could without his superspeed. While he may not be the most mature member of the League, he was thankfully good about not using his powers when not in his suit. 

“I’m not letting you have all the fun!” Daniella called after recovering from her surprise, laughing and chasing after him with surprising ease. Batman had to admire women and their ability to maintain their balance on the tips of their toes like that…

Anya was still by his side though, clearly amused by the younger heroes’ antics. “Well Bruce, where do you want to start? Trying to sneak your way to VIP?” She suggested, mimicking him in his survey of the room while avoiding having anyone bump into them by keeping against a wall for now. 

“Honestly, I might go check the bar first. Bartenders pick up more information than you might expect with how busy they are… And I can already tell I’m going to need a drink to survive the night.” He grumbled, giving her hand a small squeeze before letting go and heading that way. Anya was free to do as she pleased, of course, as he had no intention of dragging her around with him. 

Anya took advantage of this freedom by going to do as she had suggested, trying to see if she could flirt some information out of the VIP section about their target. While she may not be happy to be somewhere so… busy, she knew that it was necessary, and thus was able to find the energy to power through. Figuratively, of course. 

After making sure she was at least decently covered, she went up to the guards of the VIP section, batting her eyelashes and trying to play the ‘innocent’ card. 

“Excuse me… I’m trying to find someone, and I was hoping you could help me…” She started, not intimidated in the slightest by the men. Without giving them time to respond, she continued to describe their target. “About yay tall, blonde, brown eyes?” She tried, giving them a hopeful look. 

However, the guards shook their head and asked her to please leave, or present a VIP pass. Well… that was a bust, for now at least. She can try again a bit later, and keep an eye on the area. For now she wandered around some, keeping nearby. She spotted a flash of Wally’s red hair, making her snicker softly. Who knew he could dance?

Wally and Dani had worked their way towards the center of the dance floor, moving with ease amongst the sea of bodies, blending in with the crowd if you weren’t looking specifically for them. Their dancing styles were different, Wally’s focusing on foot work while Dani’s used her whole body, but they worked so well together. It made sense why they gravitated towards each other. Thankfully, they were still on task despite having the time of their lives. Wally was peeking over the top of the crowd and occasionally bent down near someone to ask if they had seen his friend, claiming to have lost track of him, using the same description that Anya had. Dani had to rely more on the asking aspect, smoothly working her way through the crowd as she searched for her ‘friend’, but the two of them were never more than a few people apart. Always within sight of each other. Good. They could keep each other out of trouble. 

So Anya took to looking for Bruce, hoping he was making better progress than they were. He was sitting at the bar already, drink in hand but just… staring at it. That’s not a good sign… Time to see why Bruce was brooding this time. 

Weaving her way through the people of various levels of intoxication, she took a seat on the empty stool next to Bruce, successfully snapping him out of his train of thought. 

“Are you alright?” She asked him softly, leaning closer to make sure he heard nonetheless. Getting a nod in response, she furrowed her eyebrows skeptically before mimicking the famous “Bruce Brood.” Or at least… that’s what she calls it in her head. The expression he makes when he’s thinking really hard about something that’s bothering him, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. Furrowed brows and a deep frown that bordered on a pout, hunched shoulders and arms crossed on the table. 

Feeling his shoulders shaking slightly before even realizing he was chuckling, Bruce shook his head in amusement with a small smirk. “I’m fine, honest. Just wondering how it seems like no one here recognizes our thief… it’s frustrating.” He admitted, his calmer expression replaced by the Bruce Brood again. 

Anya let her own expression relax to her natural thoughtful expression. “Perhaps the lighting makes it harder… or they don’t pay attention to appearances, and focus on names or actions?” She suggested, looking to him to see if he thought it was possible or not. 

“Maybe… but in this kind of place, you’d think people would pay attention to appearances. And he frequents here… Our best option might be to try and wait for him to show up tonight, since he should… but I was hoping to get more information about him like this. Gossip, background, hobbies, interests, anything…” 

“Bruce, please… relax. We’re doing everything we can, but we always manage in the end. It’ll turn out ok. I don’t want you to go stressing yourself grey tonight.” 

The teasing earned her a snort of amusement and another head shake before Bruce took a big sip of whatever drink he had, looking at the glass for a moment before turning his attention to her. “Do you want anything?” 

Anya hummed in thought before nodding. A drink sounds good right about now, and then he won’t be drinking alone. When they flagged down the bartender, she ordered her drink just barely over the volume of the music. He seemed to get it however, nodding and set to putting it together for her. 

“Any idea if Wally and Daniella are having better luck than us?” Bruce asked after a moment, quirking an eyebrow as he focused on her again, taking another sip of his drink. He plans on making it last the entire night, because he doesn’t need to go getting himself drunk while on a mission. 

“Can’t tell. They’re having fun for sure, absolutely surrounded. I’m pretty sure they’re still on task, just enjoying it a little more than we have been.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Relax, Bruce. Let them have their fun. We’re still at the stage of the mission where it’s ok for them, and you know as well as I do that they can step up when they have to. They’re in their element, we can’t expect them to be completely serious. Plus that would just draw attention to them.”

“I know, I know…”

Anya laughed softly in amusement, leaning into his side for a moment. It was a small, brief sign of affection. But it was plenty enough for them right now, since they were out in public. 

After a moment of consideration, Anya got an idea that just might make tonight a little more bearable for the two of them. 

“How about a little deal?”

“A deal…?”

“Once we get done with this mission, we both go back to your place, and have our version of this. Our music, our pace.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, but just the thought of it released some tension from his muscles. Giving her an affectionate smile reserved just for her and finishing his drink much sooner than anticipated, he gave a definitive nod. 

“Deal.”

[heartofsnark]

Black Market Wonderland (Chapter One): Down The Rabbit Hole

Notes:  This has been a long time coming, I never shut up about my oc and this idea. But, I’m finally posting this damn thing. This is gonna be pretty episodic and not have a lot of overarching plots, I’m gonna be stealing canon stories and adding my own spin to them as well as adding my own stories. It’s a shitshow and I hope you’ll come along for the ride.  

Special thanks to @catoinette, @otomemonogatari , @d-om , @enchantedbythebidders , @voltage-fanfictions , and @piplup235  for not only reading through and giving me feedback but also being the incentive I needed to actually write and post this. Without you all, this would still be rotting on my computer. 

 Summary:  Almost a year ago Tsuneko managed to destroy her entire life and she’s been stuck ever since. She works as a maid at the Tres Spades in Tokyo; it’s not her dream job, but it pays the bills and puts a roof over her head. Her days are spent peacefully enough cleaning hotel rooms, that is until she stumbles into Wonderland and discovers the secrets lurking within the hotel. Will this turning point be exactly what she needed or a tragedy in the making?

Word Count: 10196

Warnings:  Some blood and violence, people being bought and sold (it’s kbtbb my dudes)

The colors of the sky outside her window are just beginning to shift, soft pinks and purple coming in as the sun starts to set. Tsuneko lets out a sigh and checks her phone again, still no response from Shinobu. While not surprising, disappointment settle in her chest. It’s stupid to be upset, she shouldn’t be so emotional. She scolds herself, setting her phone down a little harder than necessary. Her desk chair creaks as she leans back and lets out another heavy sigh.

Kiyohito is curled up on her bed in a position that doesn’t look comfortable. The dark sable ferret is in a dead sleep with his tongue peeking out, any hope of him being a distraction are dashed. It’s her day off from work and she’s desperate to keep herself preoccupied. Her thoughts wandering is always a danger when she has down time, more dangerous when she’s left to ruminate on the shit show that is her life at the moment.

It’s been almost a year since her life officially went to shit and she started working at the Tres Spades hotel. It’s a glitzy place, the first legal casino in Japan. She’s a maid, spending all of her days cleaning up after people richer and more important than her. And that’s the highlight of her days, besides Kiyo, because otherwise she’s in her apartment just trying to distract herself.

The job itself is fine, given her situation, she’s damn lucky to have it. Good pay, plenty of hours, employee housing, her coworkers are mostly nice, and she even has lots of chances for overtime. But, she can’t say this is what she wanted her life to be. Being a maid isn’t exactly what she dreamed of for herself. Disappointment seems to be the theme of the day and her life.

She’s done her best to be a busy bee throughout the day; her dorm is cleaned, she’s baked, done her laundry, played with Kiyo until he passed out, messed with every entertaining app on her phone, watched any video on Youtube that caught her interest, and messaged Shinobu. Maybe she could try getting in contact with Runa? Not that she thinks it will do her a lot of good, but even getting told to fuck off is more fun than staring out the window.  

Tsuneko stands up from her chair, stretching her joints as she meanders into her kitchenette area. The dorms are nice, like one bedroom apartments essentially. Given how much she likes baking and cooking, a bigger kitchen area would do her some good, but beggars can’t be choosers. She grabs one of the cookies she baked and crams it into her mouth as she begins looking through her fridge. The sweet vanilla calms her nerves, if only marginally. But, she knows what will relax her most.

She groans, she’s out of booze. Of course. Her rum supply ran out last week and she downed her last bit of vodka yesterday. Looks like she’s gotta put on real clothes and stock up. A walk through the city might be nice to clear her mind anyway.

Her work ringtone echoes through the room just as she’s tucked Kiyo into his cage. She scrambles over to desk, stumbling over her own feet to do so.

“Tomori speaking,” she answers, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder so she can pick out a change of clothes.

“Yes, this is Kenzaki, I’m sorry to bother you on your day off. But, we’re short staffed for this evening, between the I.V.C and some people calling off sick. Is there anyway you could come in? You’d be given over time pay, of course.”

“I can be there shortly.” She throws on a tee and shorts, sliding on her shoes.

“Please report to Matsuda when you come in, she’ll give you a work schedule.” She rolls her eyes at the mention of Erika, the head maid has always had an issue with her, what that issue is remains a mystery. There’s still a huge pile of cookies on the counter, her coworkers might appreciate a snack, especially with such a busy day. And eating all of the cookies herself is kind of sad, something she’s done before, but still sad.

She says her goodbyes to Kenzaki as she starts packing the treats away into tupperware, stuffing one more in her mouth. Tsuneko picks out a sticky note, jotting down what’s in them in case of any allergies or dietary issues. Content, she grabs them and heads out the door, double checking her dorm is locked before she leaves.

Working during the I.V.C is like a double edged sword. On one hand, she’s extremely busy which she likes. She loves being able to bustle around and always having something to do. The International V.I.P Convention is a huge ordeal for the Tres Spades, a giant party held at seemingly random intervals where the rich and famous gather to stroke each other’s egos. Tsuneko has the lowest seniority of the maids, so she doesn’t have to deal with the V.I.P’s directly. But, it stretches the entire hotel staff thinner and the worse part is dealing with the V.I.P’s in passing. It may seem minor, but those kind of people seem to take even the smallest opportunity to be a pain in her ass. The last time she worked some man in a suit worth more money than she’s ever seen flagged her down to ask a question, then mocked her for her dialect, acting like she was stupid. And that was after some snooty woman grabbed her in the lobby to scream about the toilet paper in her suite. Looking back, that might have been the only time Erika was nice to her.

The evening air is cool on her skin as she leaves the dormitories, the Tres Spades looming just a short walk away. It stands out even in Tokyo among all the other huge buildings. She remembers seeing it when she first visited Tokyo, thinking how over the top it was with its giant impractical spade shaped cut out. Her feelings haven’t really changed, it’s just more relevant to her life now, fortunately or unfortunately depending on the day.

Her nose wrinkles, the acrid stink of smoke hitting her nose as she nears the back entrance. An older schlubby man is lighting a cigarette near the dumpsters. There are stomped out cigarette butts around his feet; has he been out here chain smoking all day? The stench of smoke seems to drift off of him in waves, like the man sweats nicotine. Who even is he? He’s definitely not a worker and guests at the hotel generally don’t come by the back entrance. And, as judgemental a thought as it may be, he doesn’t look like the kind of person who’d stay at the Tres Spades.

He starts to look up from his cigarette and Tsuneko ducks her head down to make a beeline for the door, just avoiding eye contact with the stranger. If he caught her staring, he’s kind enough not to say anything as she darts through the door.

She drops the cookies off in a thankfully empty staff room, she doesn’t wanna deal with any hassles or questions. She’ll just have to pick up her tupperware at the end of her shift, hopefully no one tries to take it, the cute Pokemon designs makes it a favorite of hers. .

The employee locker room is just as empty, so no one will question why the stink of cigarette smoke is now clinging to her clothes. She’s never been so happy to change into her uniform. Just a touch of perfume for extra measure then she ties her hair up in the neatest ponytail she can manage. She makes sure she has everything she needs for the work day on her, before taking a deep breath and venturing into the hotel lobby.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, the lobby is packed tight with people. Tailored suits and slinky gowns as far as the eye can see. The V.I.P’s bustle around and chatter, their words all blending into a cacophony of unintelligible noise. A select few members of the press are allowed in to snap photos and get quotes about the event. The party should be getting ready to move down to the ballroom, so with any luck this should be her only encounter with the V.I.P’s. Erika should be around here somewhere, given her seniority, plus she never misses an opportunity to kiss ass.

Tsuneko searches through the crowd for the familiar head of maroon hair. She carefully moves around people, muttering ‘excuse me’s as she goes, not letting her customer service smile and tone falter. Where the hell is Erika? She always seems to pop up when Tsuneko messes up, it figures, she’s nowhere to be found when she’s actually wanted.

Something warm and solid slams into her side, she’s knocked to the ground with a thud. A man looms over her with a scowl, she can feel the contempt emanating off of him. He’d be attractive, if he didn’t look like such an asshole. He’s tall, especially from her current vantage point, with layered oak brown hair and hazel eyes. Silence falls over the lobby, like the world’s been stopped. Everyone’s eyes focus  on them, expressions of abject horror. Hushed whispers start to fill the eerie quiet, something about ‘the king’, but she can’t make out anything more. This guy is important; she’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to realize that. Thankfully, she’s only one of the three.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” she apologizes, customer service smile in place as she get back up to her feet. This doesn’t seem to appease him, he glares  at her like she’s garbage. Which while not inaccurate, is still rude.

“Get out of my way,” he demands with a sneer and brushes off the front of his suit, like he’s come into contact with something vile. Tsuneko takes a tentative step to the side and the man storms past her up the stairs. What a bitch. This is why she hates rich people.

A few people stare at the man’s retreating back, but once he’s out of sight, it’s like the whole thing never happened. The world starts spinning again and the lobby returns to its former state. She shakes her head, it’s not worth another thought, she doubts she’ll ever see him again.

“Are you okay?” A familiar kind voice asks, it’s Chisato, another maid at the hotel. She’s always been nice to Tsuneko and is among her favorite coworkers.

“I’m fine, that guy was just a dick.” Tsuneko says with a shrug, the crowd is loud enough she can get away with talking shit.

”Uh,” Chisato sucks in a deep breath, brown eyes soft with worry, “do you know who that was?”

“Should I?” Tsuneko doesn’t really pay attention to celebrities or the elite types, it’s all nonsense to her.

“Just what were you thinking making an idiot out of yourself!?” Erika’s harpy screech rises above every noise in the lobby. Her hands are on her hips and her glare is trained on Tsuneko.

“What were you thinking?” The twins, Rina and Kana, chime in from behind Erika with similar expressions, contributing nothing to the conversation.

“It was an accident,” she answers honestly, she was so focused on finding Erika she forgot to keep an eye out for where she was going. These things happen, all she can do is apologize and move on.

“It was your fault, you should pay attention to where you’re going!”

”I apologized, unless you have a time machine, there’s not much else I can do.”

”You have no business even being around V.I.P’s, especially if you’re gonna get in their way!”

”Oh, cause I’m sure your banshee screeches just make them feel oh so special.” Tsuneko and Erika glare at each other, she may be the head maid, but Tsuneko has never been one to bite her tongue.

“Go drop off all the special boxes in the basement storage room for the guests staying for the spa package, everyone else is too busy.” Her sharp gaze drifts over to Chisato at the last part, making it clear she shouldn’t offer any help. The task isn’t particularly difficult, just tedious and will take the rest of the day.

“Of course,” Tsuneko forces a bright smile and makes her voice sugary sweet, “maybe we should offer them some complementary ear plugs, as well.”

She scurries off before Erika can say another word, the head maid can screech into the void for all she cares,  she got her work for the evening and that’s all that matters. It’s a couple flights of stairs to make it to the basement, so the elevator is best, whoever decided maids should wear heels is an asshole.

“I can’t take it anymore! It’s over, you cheater!” A woman screams as Tsuneko rounds the corner. A couple is standing outside the elevator, the woman throws a small mask at a man in a tacky red suit and storms off past Tsuneko.

The mask bounces off his face and onto the ground, it’s  small and silver with intricate details. Judging by the man’s suit and the woman’s gown, they’re here for the I.V.C, which she doesn’t recall being masquerade theme. The man picks up the mask and tucks it into his jacket with a heavy sigh.

“Now I don’t have a date,” he murmurs then looks up, his gaze meeting Tsuneko’s.

“Excuse me, sir, I needed the elevator.” She points over his shoulder.

“You just saw the whole thing, didn’t you?”

“Ah, uh, yes. Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll just take the stairs actually.” She turns around, content to evade the awkward situation, then a hand wraps around her wrist and tugs her back. He’s  pulling her towards the elevator, she instinctively tries to get out of his grip, but he’s stronger than her.

“Aw, c’mon, no reason to run away. I’ll explain everything when we get there.” He continues pulling her away, he doesn’t seem to notice or care about her trying to evade him. A part of her wants to deck him, but that will get her fired in a heartbeat.

‘Sir, leave me alone.” She keep her tone even and stern, hoping something will make it through his thick skull. One more strong pull and he yanks her right into the elevator, making her yelp. She’s met with the sight of broad back, blocking the elevator doors and button panel. He jabs a button, the doors slide close, what the hell is this guy’s problem?

“Whew, I’m lucky I found another date. There’s no way I could go to the party without a beautiful woman on my arm.” He turns to face her, entirely too close, with a smile that would be charming in another situation. He’s trying to take her to the I.V.C, the ballroom is on the basement level, so that’s not that big of a deal. She just needs to get away from him once the elevator stops.

“Sir, I am not your date, I suggest you find someone else to accompany you.” She maintains her cool, taking a step back  as the weirdo inches closer. He’s acting like a desperate romantic, though he seems a little old for that kind of thing.

“What are you talking about? I was so lucky to meet a pretty girl like you.” Her back hits the wall of the elevator, he’s closed in on her completely. His hand cups her face, his breath fansn across her skin. Her cheeks feel warm, whether from anger or embarrassment she’s not sure. He’s not unattractive, an older man with shoulder length light maple brown hair. But, regardless of looks, he’s being completely inappropriate.

“Sir, I’m working, I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Her words don’t seem to have any impact, caramel brown eyes  busy taking in every detail of her face.

“Yeah, you’re just my type. This is fate.”

”I’d would hope fate wouldn’t be so cruel to me, sir.”

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open behind him with a ding.

“Let’s go, princess!” His hand is back around her wrist and he pulls her out before she has a chance to fight. She tries to step back and pull, or twist her wrist out of his grip, but she can’t manage. Punching him still might get her fired, but they can’t expect her to just let a guest do whatever he wants. Why the hell is he so strong?!

“Let go of me, now!”   

The noise of the ballroom drowns out her demand. She’s never been in the ballroom. She’s definitely never been in the midst of the I.V.C like this. The carpeting is a plush red, the walls have gold etchings, and white marble pillars are throughout the room. Everyone is dressed beautifully, perfectly tailored suits and designer gowns. They talk and sip from champagne flutes as they all bustle around. Spread of gourmet food are laid out, servers intermingle with the crowd, never letting a glass go empty for too long. An aquarium at the back of the room catches her eye, colorful fish swimming through crystal clear water, a dolphin passes through. The hotel owns a dolphin? She would have liked to know that. If the whole ordeal wasn’t a pretentious rich nightmare, she’d be into it. If only for the booze, food, and dolphin.

“Micchy!” A woman yells out and Tsuneko nearly slams into Stranger Danger’s back when he stops.. He lets go of her wrist and goes off towards the woman. All of this hullabaloo just to run off,  he seems more like a hormone driven teenager than a grown man.

“Hey, do you have any champagne?” A voice asks just by her ear, their breath tickles and makes Tsuneko jolt. Her face feels hot as she turns to find the source; a man around her age with strawberry blonde hair and amber eyes. She’s clearly wearing a maid uniform, not a server’s.

“I do not.”

“You do work here, right? You’re looking around like Alice at the Mad Hatter’s tea party.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, he’s cute, but something is off about him.

“I’m going to level with you, sir. I’m not suppose to be here right now, sorry.”

“That’s fine, hope you make it out of Wonderland, Alice.” His fake smile turns into a genuine smirk right as he leaves. Yeah, he’s definitely off. Still, cute though. She decides to shake it off and starts on her way out of the ballroom. It’s gonna take her forever to deliver those packages at this rate.

A sweaty hand grabs her wrist, bringing her to a halt, what the fuck now? The world is truly testing her today. It’s a stocky man in a garish green suit, he leers and looks her up and down, her stomach churns.

“Mhmm, I love girls like you. You wanna come with me to give me some special room service? I’ll make sure to tip you for the extra work."

“Gross.”

“What was that?”

“This is a hotel, not a brothel, sir." She’s able to break away from him much easier and starts towards the door again, he’s not deterred.

“You’re pretty lucky you met me. My net worth is 500 million,” he tells her, reaching out to touch her, she dodges him.

“Not enough for my dignity, sir." Her blood boils, at least Stranger Danger had the decency not to treat her like a prostitute. Does he really think her and the rest of the girls here are so beneath him and desperate for cash?Her hands clench into tight fists, she’s not allowed to punch guests. An unfortunate fact at the moment.

“C'mon, everyone has a price.” His hand presses against her hips, fuck this guy. She spins to face him, she needs to stop this, if she doesn't he's just going to hound every other female employee, until he finds someone he can bully into it. She’s not letting that happen.

“Look here, sir! I don't have the time, energy, or desire to deal with you disrespecting me and the hotel. I assure you, there’s not enough money in the world to convince anyone here to touch your pathetic excuse for a dick. Now, get your disgusting grubby hands off of me!” The color drains from the man’s face, when did the ballroom get so quiet? Just a few whispers, it’s like when she bumped into-

“This party is getting trashy,” a deep and sadly familiar voice rings out over her shoulder, making her jump. The asshole from the lobby was behind her, a group of women cling to and hover around him. They glare at Tsuneko, but asshole is glaring at the pervert. The look he gave her in the lobby seems downright kind in comparison.

“Uh, I'm so sorry Mr. Ichinomiya,” the pervert apologizes and runs off. Ichinomiya, that sounds familiar, but she can't place it. She rattles her brain for a moment, but she can’t seem to find it. The headache she has coming on isn’t helping. His eyes find hers, now that the pervert’s gone, the contempt has waned. It feels more like he’s looking at a fly under a microscope, like he’s trying to dissect and understand her.

“You again.”

“You again,” she mimics without thinking, her patience with the day is gone. His expression grows angrier, same for his groupies. She bites her lip to hold back laughter, normally she’d be more polite, but she just called a guest’s dick pathetic, so she might as well mock Ichinomiya, whoever he is.

“Get out of my way.” This seems to be his favorite phrase.

”Happily.”

“I hate when people don't know there place,” one of the women says as they move past Tsuneko. She forces a smile, but rolls her eyes once they’re gone and starts another attempt to leave this god forsaken party.

Her shoulder knocks into someone, making them both stumble.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures her before going on about his business, as small as the exchange is, a friendly normal person feels like a breath of fresh air. Something on the ground catches her eye, a small good luck talisman. The cloth it’s in is a bit worn, black with small white rabbits. He must have dropped it when she bumped into him.

She tucks the charm into her pocket and finds his back in the crowd, she jogs after him. Calling after him does nothing, he either doesn’t hear her or doesn’t realize he’s who she means by ‘Sir’. His long legs take him further away quicker than her stubbier ones and she sees him go out door towards the back of the room. She manages to get through the door a few moments after.

The hall that greets her is absolutely empty, her heart sinks, he’s nowhere to be seen. Doors line the hallway, did he go into one of those rooms? She’d hate it if she wasn’t able to get it back to him. It’s clear he’s had it for a while, it must mean a lot to him. If push comes to shove, she may just have to put it in lost and found, but then there’s no way of knowing if he gets it back. She walks down the hallway, the dead silence is eerie after being surrounded by so much noise.

A few moments pass and she hears soft murmurs, they seem louder in the quiet hallway. There’s a door ajar, maybe that’s where he is, there’s a bounce in her step as she nears it. She peeks into the room; gunmetal glints in the low-light of the room. Suitcases filled with cash and guns are strewn across a table. Men in suits are standing around, speaking in a language she doesn’t understand. This is illegal, this is definitely illegal.  Her breath catches in her throat, she’s seriously watching an arms deal right now.

The world goes out from under her feet and she’s spun around, her back slams against the wall. She’s at least a foot off of the ground, large hands pin her in place and sharp blue gray eyes glare at her. Her heart hammers in her chest, like it’s trying to escape her rib cage.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is harsh and demanding. A part of her wants to fight, but if he’s involved with what she just saw…. There’s no guarantee he’s not armed. She’s not keen on being murdered.

“I got lost looking for someone, sorry sir.” She doesn’t let her voice break and maintains eye contact. Showing her fear won’t help anything.  He lets go of her and she falls to the ground, not too gracefully.

“You have five seconds to get out of here and forget everything you saw. Otherwise, you’ll be wiped off the face of the earth.”

“Understood.” She walks away, ignoring the impulse to run. Muscle memory leads her through the floor, the storage room shouldn’t be far away.

She steps inside, closing the heavy door behind her before she sits down on the floor. Her breath is shaky and she clutches her head in her hands, nails digging into the skin of her temples. What the hell is she suppose to do now?

She’s been threatened and there’s apparently gun deals going on in the hotel. People are getting hurt, there’s no way they aren’t if guns are involved. She can’t be certain how serious that man was about killing her. But, she doesn’t wanna test it and he didn’t seem like the kind of person to speak lightly.

Reporting it isn’t really an option; she has no evidence and there’s the whole being killed thing. Even if she is believed, if the hotel gets shut down, her and all her coworkers would be left without a job or home. Is the hotel even aware of this? Does Kenzaki or the owner know what’s going on here? Who even owns the hotel again? Some sort of CEO who’s head of a conglomerate group. What was it called again? Ugh, she can’t think straight.

She jolts to her feet, she needs to focus and get her shit together. Freaking out isn’t going to help anything. She needs to deliver those packages and go on with her work day, then she’ll drop the charm off in the lost and found. Work now, panic attacks later.

Tsuneko starts stacking up packages in her arms, her movements frantic and she nearly drops a few.. Her brain is a scrambled mess, she needs a dolly, she should have brought one over before stacking them in her arms. She’ll just carry the packages to the dolley, wherever the damn thing is. She can’t even see over the pile of boxes, she tries to look around them as she moves.

Something slams into her and knocks her back, the packages fall to the ground. A heavy thud rings out through the room, the sound of shattering follows. Her ass hurts and she can already feel the bruises forming. She’s spent the majority of this day on her ass.

“Fucking hell!” There are two men, they’re frenetic as they try to pry the lid off of a crate that’s fallen. She doesn’t recognize them, they’re not in any sort of Tres Spades uniform. Maybe they’re just here to move stuff?

The lid hits the floor with a clatter and she peeks inside, it’s filled with shards of what looks like broken glass. She can tell how high quality whatever the original object was from the quality of the material. It’s pristine and the light it catches reflects back iridescent.

“The statue's been smashed to pieces!” One of the men yells, his face turning red with rage.

“I’m sorry,” she struggles to keep her tone even, “I’ll talk to the manager, we’ll get it figured out.”

This entire day has been a mess, but if the worse thing to come out of it is having her pay docked for a decoration, she’ll be okay. It may be high quality, but she doubts a statue is worth too much. It’s just nice glass.

“This was the showcase piece for the auction! How are you going to pay for it!?”

“Look, I’m sorry,” she says again, but what do they mean by an auction? The men glare at her and creep closer, she takes a step back as chills run up her spine.

“You think an apology is going to cut it? You owe us?”

One of the men makes a grab at her and she throws a punch. Her fist connects with his nose in a spray of blood. The man staggers back and she makes a run for the door. His cohort gets in the way and pushes her back, knocking her flat on her ass.

“You really think you’re gonna get out of here that easy,” he taunts, standing over her.

The crate brushes against her as she scrambles away, she grabs a large shard of glass from it and buries it deep into the man’s thigh. He screams out and a gush of blood spurts out as she twists the shard out of his flesh. She clambers back up on her feet and makes another run for the door.

A weight slams into her back, her face smashes into the ground, her scream muffled. He presses his knee down on her back, his nails dig into the cuts on her hand as he rips the glass out of her grasp. One hand keeps her wrist pinned behind her, the other searches her pockets. She writhes and twists, trying to get out from under him, but it does nothing. He tugs her phone from her pocket and throws it across the room.

“I got an idea of how we can make our money back,” the other man says.

Wheels roll across the floor, stopping in front of her. She can’t wrench her neck up enough to see anything else. The man yanks her up on her feet and her heart sinks. A large golden bird cage glimmers on top of a dolly. Her throat tightens and her stomach churns.

“Do you just have this shit on stand by!?”

“Shut up.” The man in front of her opens the cage door, the other pushes her forward. She jerks back;  kicks and stomps at the man’s feet. He digs his fingers into her hand again, pain jolts through her and her scream reverberate through the room. Taking advantage, he shoves her forward into the cage. Her hand sting as she catches herself, her head nearly smacking into the bars. They lock the door behind her, tears sting at the back of her eyes.

“She’s a little damaged, but she should still be worth something.” The men share a laugh at her expense, they can’t be serious. They can’t sell her, that’s ridiculous. She can’t get a deep enough breath, her lungs burn. She can hear the pounding of her heart, feel the thump of it against her ribs.

They roll her out of the room, slowly taking her through the halls of the hotel. It’s mostly empty at first, but slowly more people start to appear, moving random things. From art to what looks like a baby leopard, it’s a mishmash of things being carried through the halls. But, no one seems to care about her. It’s like this is just a normal everyday occurrence. She shakes the bars of the cage, they don’t budge at all, she yells out for help. Nothing. No one bats an eye.

“Hey, where’s the final item?!” A young man yells from beside a pair of double doors, inside it seems to be a backstage area. Her kidnappers start explaining that there’s been a change in item.

She pries a bobby pin out of her hair, it’s mostly lose already, her ponytail coming undone in the entire struggle. Taking advantage of  her kidnappers distraction, she snaps the pin into two pieces and starts trying to pick at the lock. Her hand stings with every movement and she can’t clearly see the lock, but she’s desperate. If she can get it undone, she can make a break for it.

“What the hell-” His words are drowned out by Tsuneko’s howls of pain, his blunt nails dig into her open cuts pressing into tender skin and making more blood flow. The two broken pieces fall to the ground, he lets go after what feels like hours and she yanks her hand back, holding it close to her as she presses against the other side of the cage.

Her eyes sting, a few tears stream down her face. The men only laugh at her pain, she focuses on their injuries, the man’s broken nose and the steadily bleeding wound on the others thigh. It’s a small comfort to know at the very least, she gave as good as she got.

She’s rolled through the double door and her suspicions are confirmed, it’s definitely backstage of this auction, she presumes. As pointless as it is, a part of her is still hoping that’s a joke. It seems so unbelievable, like something out of a horror movie or a nightmare. She’s tries to steady her breathing, to calm down even a little bit. But, it’s all in vain. Her heart beat is frantic,  she struggles to breath, her throat feels tight, and she struggles to keep more tears from falling.

The backstage is a bustle of activity as she’s taken to just beside the stage, still concealed from the audience, but she can look out and see what’s taking place. It’s a huge crowd of people,  they watch the stage with rapt attention, faces concealed by masquerade masks. A man on stage talks and moves dramatically, dressed in what appears to be a mad hatter costume. His face painted a stark white and his eyes an unnaturally electric shade of blue.

A small clang catches her attention, she looks up and one of the men attaches a hanging chain to the top of the cage. Someone starts pulling somewhere and the chain starts to lift the cage off the dolly. Tsuneko yelps, if she’s suspended, her chances of escape become slimmer. It ascends higher and higher, until she knows that even if she could manage to shake the bars lose or bust the cage open, she’d fall and break something or bust her head open. The latter doesn’t seem like a bad option at the moment, at least it might kill her.

Slowly her cage is pulled to the side, taking her to center stage. Bright lights and eyes all trained on her. She’s really being auctioned off, someone is going to buy her.

“I present to you, our showcase item of the evening! A healthy young Japanese woman. Yes, that’s you!” The hatter gestures towards her with a flourish and bile rises in the back of her throat.

“Yeah, I caught that,” she screams back at him, kicking the cage. The bars still don’t budge, the gilded cage is firm and shows no sign of busting open.

“I’ll start the bidding at one million!”

Even if she managed to escape the cage and managed not to hurt herself in the fall, she’s surrounded by the crowd. There’s no way she can avoid being grabbed.

“Keep her as your slave, keep her as a toy! Do whatever you please with her, it’s truly up to you!” The hatter continues, not caring about her distress. She kicks and shakes the bars, at this point more an explosion of anger than a genuine attempt to escape, she screams in frustration. Tears prick at the back of her eyes and she doesn’t care enough to stop them anymore.

In the front row of the audience is a stocky man in a garish green suit, the masquerade mask does nothing to hide the pervert from the I.V.C. He grins and bids on her.  She looks behind her and sees a screen just above her cage, a number on it rising more and more. More money than she’s ever seen. Her stomach churns and she kicks the cage again, no budging. The most she can do is make the cage sway back and forth, nothing shows any signs of breaking.

“She is a feisty one, all the more fun to break her,” the auctioneer taunts, all his actions colored with the flamboyance of a true showman.

“If I could reach you, I’d wring your fucking neck,” she screams, her throat raw from the force of it.

“Going once, going twice, sold to seat one hundred for twenty-million!” The hatter says as a bell dings, the number on the screen behind her has stopped. She can’t make out what seats are what numbers past the first couple rows. It’s not the pervert, he’s seat number five. But that doesn’t mean it’s anyone better.

The hatter closes out the auction; the lights die down and the curtains close. Tsuneko sits and pulls her knees to her chest, her cage lowers down. It’s settles back down on the stage with a small sound, it makes her feel just a tiny bit better, slightly less helpless than she was before. Someone is still staring at her, she can feel it, even while she’s curled up against herself. Peeking up, it’s the hatter. His harlequin style hatter costume is slightly unnerving, his unnaturally blue eyes are trained on her, his expressions seemingly curious. There’s something child like to it. Someone yells out and he jolts, like being woken up from a trance and goes scurrying off.

Her owner, her stomach churns at the the word, should be coming to collect her. Maybe, this will be a chance to escape. She’s not in the best state to fight, but maybe, just maybe, she’ll be able to take them down. She kicks again, a dull ache pulsing in her toes. She wipes away at tears, holding back sobs.

 Footsteps echo out, growing closer and closer. Two men make their way to her cage, the small silver masks do nothing to hide their identities. At this point she has to wonder if they truly serve a purpose beyond aesthetic. She can tell right away it’s Stranger Danger in his bright red suit and the cute but off guy from the party. If it was just the latter, she’d be able to take him. He doesn’t seem particularly strong, shorter and thinner than Stranger Danger.  But, she knows that the taller of the two was able to drag her around like a rag doll.

“This way.” Stranger Danger unlocks the cage door. She gives them wary glares  as she stands on shaky legs and steps out of the cage. Tsuneko hides her injured hand in her pocket, not wanting to give them an easy target if they decide to hurt her.

The men stay quiet as they lead her to an elevator, the only one that goes to the penthouse. Sure enough, once they’ve stepped inside Stranger Danger pulls the penthouse elevator key from his pocket. The doors close and the carriage lurches into movement. She knew they were V.I.P’s, but not very many people have access to the penthouse. Sakiko has mentioned some people who stay their. An artist, who’s name escapes her, and the owner of the hotel. Who the hell owns this hotel again? She’s trying to rack her brain for that name again, Ishi, something? Her brain is fuzzy from everything going on. But, if she’s being taken to the penthouse, surely the owner is aware of what’s going on. It would be hard to hide the auctions, especially at that scale, from the person who owns the damn place.

It’s a silent tense elevator ride, Tsuneko racking her brain for an escape strategy. She already knows she can’t fight Stranger Danger, but maybe she could make a run for it when the elevator opens, go for the stairs. But, if the owner is involved, she wouldn’t get far. She doesn’t exactly have anywhere to go other than the employee dorms. Waiting for a better chance might be the best idea.

The elevator dings and stops, doors sliding open. She’s never seen the penthouse suites before. They step into the hallway, red carpeting and doors along the walls. A huge pair of double doors standing out among them. The only employee she knows of that has access here is Kenzaki, even Erika isn’t allowed in the penthouse.

The pair push open the double doors and Tsuneko follows, it’s a lounge. Lavish, with plush chairs and couches. A large set of of red carpeted stairs lead up to another level, a large window covers almost the entire expanse of a wall, showing a view of the Tokyo Bay. There’s an extravagant high tech television mounted on one of the walls. Two men are in the center of the lounge; both of which she recognizes.  And there appears to be man passed out on one of the couches, he could be dead, she can’t be sure. The man who threatened to wipe her off the face of the earth and the asshole from the lobby, Ichinomiya, are in the center.

Ichinomiya. He’s the owner of the hotel. It hits her as hard as she hit the floor earlier. She sassed her boss. Prior to this auction nonsense, she’d be panicking, but the fear of upsetting her boss pales in comparison to the terror of being sold. 

“We’ve brought her,” the cute but off guy announces, he doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. She’d like to punch him.

Ichinomiya sits on the red couch at the center of the lounge, crossing his legs as he looks her over. Him and the man who pinned her to the wall have intense stares, but she meets their gaze with the same ferocity. She’s not backing down. 

“We bought you,” Ichinomiya states.

“I noticed.” Her response seems to amuse him, a smirk plays on his lips. She’s just happy her voice didn’t crack.

“So, we ended up catching you after all,” the tall man who pinned her comments, his dark hair is slicked back and his eyes are sharp. Even without him having her against a wall, he’s kind of intimidating, or perhaps it’s just the situation making him seem that way.

“You know this woman, Soryu?” Ichinomiya asks.

“You could say that.”

“He threatened to kill me.”

“Yeah, sounds like Sor,” Stranger Danger says with a laugh, pulling off his mask and adjusting his fedora. Cute but off guy pulls off his mask as well, both completely nonchalant..

“Look, you can’t actually buy me, this is stupid,” she decides to keep talking, maybe the more she talks the more it will all make sense and she’ll be able to get out of this.

“Anything and everything’s for sale at the auctions. If there’s someone out there to buy it, you can sell it. There are no rules,” Stranger Danger boasts, no one here seems to care about the abject horror she’s been through.

“Yep, you can get stolen art, secret information about politicians, even hire a hitman,” Cute but off guy adds.

“This is actually the first time a person’s ever been auctioned off, though,” Stranger Danger’s eyes seem to soften a bit as he looks over at her, a shred of empathy seeming to make its way through.

“You must have done something pretty bad, huh?” Followed by the apathetic question of cute but off guy.

“I accidentally broke some statue, that was apparently expensive, or whatever.”

“The statue of Venus. If it’s worth anything, it’s here,” Ichinomiya states with confidence.

“You’re reckless as always. This woman isn’t worth anything,” Soryu tells him.

“I agree, let me go home.”

“But, it’ll be fun thinking up ways to use her.” Cute but off guy is smirking, he’s a shit head it seems.

“No, it will not.”

“Who gave you permission to speak? Don’t open your mouth unless I say so,” Ichinomiya demands; she bites her lip and keeps her glare. She wants to strangle him, she wants to actually murder her boss. This fuckwit puts her through hell and doesn’t even wanna let her talk.

“If you got a problem with it, would you rather go back to number five?” Soryu asks with a smirk, at least none of them seem keen on violating her in that way, but she just glares at him. She needs to stay calm, as difficult as that is.

“C’mon now, Boss…Sor. You should be nice to girls,” Stranger Danger talks again, he’s calling Ichinomiya boss, too. He’s really the one she needs to get convince to let her go.

“Listen,” she starts, no one stops her, “there no reason to keep me. My existence does not benefit any of you in any way, shape, or form.”

“You’re just trying to lower your value,” cute but off dude chimes in, he’s getting less cute and more gremliny with every annoying word.

“Besides, a cute girl has plenty of benefits.” Any brownie points Stranger Danger earned have vanished, his comment and wink makes her grimace.

“I sincerely hope you aren’t desperate enough to waste twenty-million on getting your dick wet.” She levels a glare at him.

“Looks like she already has you figured out, Baba,” Gremlin, as he’s now being dubbed, says through a laugh.

“You wound me, princess.” Stranger Danger, Baba apparently, responds with a dramatic sorrowful expression.

“You know about the auctions,” Soryu takes back control of the conversation, “we can’t have you running off and telling someone.”

“No worries, I haven’t suffered recent brain damage.” Though her face feels significantly bruised after being slammed against the floor, Soryu raises an eyebrow at her, “Worst case scenario, you kill me and best case scenario I end up unemployed and homeless. I have no proof, police wouldn’t believe me and you’d kill me for talking. Even if they did, if the owner of the hotel goes to jail then the hotel goes under and I’m out of my job and housing. I’m not stupid enough to bite the hand that feeds me.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Ichinomiya smirks “you didn’t seem too friendly earlier.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know who you were, so,” his glare harshens, but she’s not done talking, “look, I don’t even have a phone to call the police. I’ll sign an NDA, confidentiality agreement or whatever, I’ll give you the legal right to screw me over if I even think about telling people about the auctions. There’s no reason to keep me, I’m not worth twenty-million, I assure you.”

Soryu looks to Ichinomiya, he almost seems to be on board with her idea. Maybe he’s not that awful, if he supports getting her out of here.

“Boring!” Gremlin complains, she could wring his fucking neck, but she keeps her eyes focused on Ichinomiya. He makes the decisions here, that’s painfully clear.

“No,” Ichinomiya says as he gets up from the couch, “I determine your worth.”

“What!?” Her voice breaks more than she’d like it to, indignancy ruining her composure.

“We bought you, you belong to us. End of story. You’ll be staying in Soryu’s suite for the night, he’ll assure you don’t go running off.” He’s still smirking, despite the fact that Soryu looks absolutely pained. Ichinomiya leaves up the twisted staircase, pulling out his phone as he does so.

“Man, Soryu gets to play with Koro first, not fair,” Gremlin pretends to whine, but he’s smirking; who the fuck is Koro?

“Time for introductions,” Baba winks at her, “what’s your name princess?”

“.…Tomori Tsuneko,” she murmurs, she feels completed defeated, there has to be a way out of this mess.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl. I’m Baba Mitsunari. I’m a thief, 35, single and ready to mingle. You can call me Micchan, Micchy, whatever you want.”

“Baba it is.”

“Pfftt, rejected. I’m Kisaki Ota, people call me the angelic artist,” Gremlin introduces himself.

“You already know Boss, so it’s Sor and Mamo’s turn,” Baba says, looking at the far less enthusiastic men.

“Kishi Mamoru,” The apparently not dead guy finally sits up and lights a cigarette.

“He’s a cop or unemployed, who knows?” Baba grins, “And the tall quiet guy is Oh Soryu, leader of the Ice Dragons.” Soryu looks so pained, you’d think he was the one who was just bought.

“Ice Dragons…?”

“Mafia,” Kisaki explains, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Enough of this,” Oh says curtly, “follow me, since I’m stuck babysitting you.” He strides out of the lounge without giving her another look.

“Sor’s kinda shy. You better go after him before he locks the door on you,” Baba tells her and she scurries off after Oh, who leads her down the halls towards one of the suites. She has to speed walk to keep up with his pace.

He’s stiff and rude, but if she’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty low of her current shit list. At the very least, he seems just as keen on getting her out of here as she is. His biggest concern seems to be keeping the auctions secret; she already told them she wouldn’t blab, but she gets the feeling if she steps out of line he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. And the fact he still seems like one of the lesser evils here despite that, really says something.

She’s follows him into his suite, it’s easily five times the size of her dorm. They step into the living room, more than likely where she’ll be sleeping. The couch looks comfy, she’ll manage for the night. Oh starts pulling off his jacket, then unbuttoning his shirt. She catches a glimpse of bare muscles before she turns around, offering him something resembling privacy. It might seem naive, but she doesn’t think he gonna try anything, he seems pained by her presence let alone trying to touch her. Footsteps ring out, Oh walking past her shirtless. He’s in really good shape.

“Don’t get any weird ideas.” He steps into another room, a moment passes and then running water. Sounds like a shower, couldn’t he have started stripping down in the bathroom? She doesn’t really understand the point of the peepshow, she decides not to ponder on it too long and instead lets out a heavy breath.

She slumps onto the couch, exhaustion settling in to take the place of her anxiety. Running away isn’t an option, despite how tempting it is, the Ichinomiya Group has the power and money to find her anywhere. She’s not sure how far reaching the mafia is and she doesn’t want to find out. Even so, she has no intention of giving up. She’s got to convince Ichinomiya to let her leave. Though, clearly it isn’t happening tonight.

Tsuneko looks at her hand, surveying the damage done by the glass. It’s starting to throb and ache more. The largest mark is a nasty gash across her palm, then smaller cuts around her fingers. It hurts more when she bends or flexes them, but the slash across her palm is more concerning. She doesn’t think it needs stitches, but she isn’t a doctor, so who knows.

Something glints and catches her eye, from under the chair. She leans over to get a closer peek and her blood runs cold, it’s a gun. It’s not shocking, he was the one who threatened her after she saw the gun deal. But, she still can’t help being afraid. The potential of him killing her seems even more viable.

The water stops, doesn’t seem like a long shower, a minute or two tops. She tucks her hand back in her pocket and presses her back closer against the couch as the bathroom door opens. His hair is no longer slicked back, soft around his face, but it doesn’t look wet.

“You didn’t try to run away.” He was just testing her.

“I’m not stupid.” She can’t help the vitriol in her tone.

“That remains to be seen,” that earns him a glare, “As long as you keep behaving, I won’t do anything bad to you.”

“Got it.”

He walks around the couch to stand in front of her, she presses further into the back of the couch, he’s in her space. Oh cages her in, arms on each side of her head and hands on the top of the couch, he leans in until they’re almost nose to nose. She bites her lip and meets his glare, her face feels hot.

“I have no idea what Eisuke’s thinking, but let's make this clear. You better not tell anyone what you saw today. No matter what. Telling anyone else is the same as signing your own death warrant. Yours, your friend’s, and your family’s.”

“Got it.”

“You can use the living room and bathroom, just don’t come near my bedroom,” he tells her as he pulls away, gathering his discarded shirt and jacket.

”Understood. What about work? If I’m not there tomorrow people will get suspicious.” She’s not sure if they actually would, if any of them would care enough to notice, but any excuse to leave in the morning sounds good.

“You work as a maid here, right?”

“Yes.”

“As long as you remember to keep your mouth shut and don’t go running off, it’ll be fine. Understood?”

She nods as Oh leaves into another room, she assumes the bedroom. Tsuneko pulls off her shoes, her feet ache just a bit. He told her she could use the bathroom and a shower sounds nice, but she doesn’t have anything to change into. Plus showering in an unfamiliar place doesn’t sound too pleasant. There’s a shower in the employee locker room, she’ll wait til morning.

She curls up on the couch, carefully finding a position that won’t hurt her hand. A yawn escapes her, she needs to think of ways to get out of this, but she’s too exhausted to think straight. The whole ordeal has drained every last bit of energy she has. She closes her eyes and slowly drifts off to sleep.

[mactuna]

ђคгɭєץ ợยєєภ

↠ summary: jisol isn’t the only who got run over by the gossip train... and in the process, she learned a lot more than she was ever supposed to... (lmao this is such a trashy summary!!)

↠ idea: jungkook x oc!! bts mafia au!! kpop universe!!]

↠ part 1 [] part 2 [] part 3 [] part 4?

“I’ll bring you your stuff later, ok sis? Just please don’t trip on yourself if you see Han Jisung. Please.”

“For the last time! I DON’T LIKE HIM!”

“Sure sis… you definitely don’t have a sketchbook of drawings of him.”

“You can stop talking now!”

The two had arrived at Jeongmi’s new room, because college dorms were way too expensive. And lucky for her, there was a Min Jisol who was looking for a roommate.

“I’ll bring your stuff around later, ok?”

“Ok… bye!”

But in his defense, Jungkook believed he had the right to be worried about his little sister. Because he was pretty darn sure he knew exactly how her roommate was: the infamous Min Jisol of Daegu Town High School. She was the girl that everyone warned you about. It was obvious she smoked because she always coughed as if she had smoker’s lung and could literally collapse at any given moment. And Jesus Christ, she always smelled like goddamn alcohol! She always seemed as if she had tried to get the stank of alcohol off, but in the end she miserably failed and the smell basically radiated off of her. But of course, can’t forget that she was always late and skipping class. The problem? She never got in trouble for it. To top it all off, she graduated as valedictorian. Combined with her popularity amongst the boys for her looks, it was no surprise when the gossip train tooted about Jisol sleeping around with the administration to get straight A’s. Hence, she was basically the queen of the school in all aspects. Despite all the obvious warning signs, people loved her. Earning her the nickname, Harley Queen.

But Jungkook was barely any better and he knew it. His reputation wasn’t exactly spotless since he hit high school. Puberty had treated him very kindly, earning the attention from all the girls within the school district. Especially at sport competitions. And every so often, a girl would ask to speak to him somewhere quiet. Alone. Like a lost lamb, he would follow. He never did anything, didn’t even touch them, yet the gossip train tooted that Jungkook had a knack for quickies and breaking the girls’ hearts once he was done with them. Because of this one fact, Jungkook had begrudgingly agreed to let Jeongmi room with Jisol. Maybe she was just another victim of the gossip train, just like him.  Or maybe it was just his grudge against her for… a number of reasons.

“Ok… bye Jungkook!”

“I’ll bring your stuff up in like, two hours ok?”

“Uh-huh. Goodbye!”

Obviously, Jeongmi was super embarrassed that her brother was basically dropping her off at her first apartment. And she didn’t want to make a bad first impression, so she did everything in her power to shoo him away. But as soon as the door opened, Jeongmi was shocked by the girl’s beauty in front of her. All of her doubts disappeared into thin air and she found herself bowing awkwardly.

“Hello, my name is Jeongmi. It’s really nice to meet you!”

But Jisol was already busting a lung with laughter.

“You are so cute!! But anyway, you don’t have to act so formal around me. We’re roommates now Jeongmi. As you probably know, my name’s Jisol and welcome to the apartment!”

Despite having only met once or twice, Jeongmi already felt the bond forming between them.

“Do you need any help bringing your stuff up or anything?”

“Actually, my brother is bringing up my stuff in a couple of hours.”

“Girl, that’s honestly sibling goals. My brother would tell me to suck it up and be independent like all the girls in the world preach about.”

But now, Jeongmi was confused as hell. How in the world did Jisol have such awful rumors circulating about her? She was honestly one of the sweetest, most wholesome Jeongmi had ever met. But for Jisol? She was just over the moon that there was someone who was willing to give her a clean slate and actually get to know her. Not try to kiss up to her just so she could be referred to one of the guys. The reason everyone thought she was a slut was that most of her friends were guys. Mostly because the other girls at school were entirely too judgemental. And super bitchy.

“Feel free to explore, Jeongmi. Lol, you don’t have to be so nervous. You kinda live her now?”

And Jeongmi was like, why the hell does it literally smell like freaking daisies? Smoker’s lung, my foot! There wasn’t even the slightest whiff of smoke or alcohol anywhere. That’s when the knock came faintly. Which Jeongmi barely heard.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook, Jeongmi’s older brother. I came to drop off her stuff?”

Already, Jungkook was gaining attention from the neighbors. Mostly because the apartment was a hot spot for college kids who couldn’t afford or didn’t want to live in a dorm.

“Unnie, do you mind if he comes inside? Because there are literally people crowding the hallway just to stare at him. And it’s kinda gross?”

“Yeah, of course! Come on in.”

See, Jeongmi was totally clueless to the history between Jungkook and Jisol. They had been rivals at everything, all the way up until high school. But that was a different story. Sighing, Jisol let him in, promising herself to be civil for Jeongmi’s sake, if not hers.

As for Jungkook, he was surprised to see the two three-star black belts hanging in the open closet and the sheer amount of beat-up medical textbooks on the kitchen table.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Uh, no. I’m good actually. But thanks.”

And he was 100% surprised at how well Jisol was keeping her cool. Taking the heavy box from him, Jisol gave Jungkook a tight smile.

“I  can help Jeongmi unpack if you have somewhere you need to be.”

But Jisol knew that look in his eyes all too well. There was no way this could be the apartment of the Harley Queen, right? There was no way that the Queen would actually be reading and studying to get good grades, right? She had to be hiding the booze somewhere, right? The drugs? The weed? The cigarette packs? And Jungkook understood the tone of dismissal in her voice all too well.

“Then I’ll be going then. Bye, Mi!”

But as Jungkook made his way down to his car, he couldn’t but think of the little collage of Jisol’s baby pictures on the wall. One of them was of the two of them holding hands as they crossed the street. Groaning out loud, Jungkook looked towards the sky.

“STOP BEING IN MY LIFE MIN JISOL!!!!!”

Why was his life so intertwined with Jisol’s?!! On top of already being entangled with every aspect of his life, why was she his ex-girlfriend from preschool too?!! He thought he’d erased his memory of her a long time ago!!

When Jungkook got back to the house, he wasn’t surprised to find Yoongi watching TV on the couch.

“So… how did it go?”

“I mean, Jeongmi seems to really like her, so I guess that’s all that matters.”

Shaking his head, Yoongi sat up straight.

“But I asked what your thoughts on Jisol are?”

“She’s… a lot different from what I expected.”

“How so?”

“She seems a lot more… put together than everyone takes her for. There’s not a single trace of cologne, smoke, drugs, or alcohol in there. I honestly have no idea how the hell these rumors formed about her. She seems really nice.”

“Well… she has changed a lot since high school ended. Plus, the rumors are mostly my fault. But I thought you were-”

“What are you talking about, hyung?”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Jungkook. However, this story isn’t entirely mine to tell, so it’d be a tad unfair if she weren’t here to explain the entirety of the situation.”

“But-”

“No.”

Grumbling, Jungkook made his way to the shower. He knew where he stood among the seven guys as the youngest: at the top. But when it came to Yoongi? That was all null and void.

“YAH JUNGKOOK-AH! JOONIE HAS A MISSION FOR YOU, JIMIN, AND TAE!!”

Jin yelled through the door, banging on it to disrupt the peace of the hot, running water.

“Ok hyung! I’ll be out soon! BUT YOU BREAK THAT DOOR I SWEAR-”

“BYE!”

But why was Tae coming on this mission? That almost never happened. He was the one who usually stayed back to work the comms and get all the inside info that was necessary to send to whoever was out in the field. But if he was coming, Joon-hyung’s mission for them had to be insanely top priority if Tae was coming out to play. 10 minutes later, the boys were seated on the floor in front of Joon.

“Does everyone here know Song Yuri?”

“Yeah. We’re all in the same biology class.”

“Well we just found out from our spy that Yuri is actually the heiress of the Ahn Empire in Daegu.”

“Wait… aren’t they the ones-”

“Who created a memory implanter and have passed down some secret through generations, using it?!!”

“Yes, that one. And if everyone else knows, then everyone is going to be gunning for her. She’s dating one of the NCT boys so we have to be careful. From what we know, she’s close with all of the NCT boys so we have to be careful. The reason I chose you three is because you have a subconscious memory of Yuri’s behavioral patterns So please bring her back alive. Got that?”

“Yes hyung.”

“Good. We’ve also got word that it’s one of the Dreamies’ birthdays today so they’ll be vulnerable. I will take the other hyungs to take them out, ok?”

“Ok hyung. See you later!”

________________________________________________________________

A/N: OKAY YAY PART 1 IS DONE OF THE BLOOD UNIVERSE SERIES!! lmao idek if i actually want to turn all the “books” of this series into the same universe but we’ll see:) btw i literally just fangirled so hard in the car when dream glow came on LOL!

↠ part 1 [] part 2 [] part 3 [] part 4?

[sweetlangdon]

From Eden: Chapter 5

Notes: Michael Langdon x Reader/OC. Evil Power Couple fic. It’s difficult to write a summary for this one, because I don’t want to give away the twists. (It’ll also include canon rewrite/divergence for the later half of the season.) It has plenty of angst and fluff, and a bit of character study.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, murder, graphic violence, mentions of physical abuse. 

Chapter One     Chapter Two    Chapter Three     Chapter Four     Also Available on AO3

Her shoulder knocked into Michael’s as they walked, their laughter piercing the quiet of the neighborhood. Crickets thrummed in the grass and somewhere a few streets over a dog barked incessantly. She tried to tell him to keep his voice down when they approached her house, but it was no use—the two of them were caught in a cycle of infectious giggling. It was late and they were tired; so tired that everything became hilarious no matter how little it made sense. She would’ve crashed in the guest bedroom at Miriam’s if it wasn’t a school night. She’d spent the evening in their warm kitchen, the aroma of baking cookies lingering in the air long after she and Michael had finished devouring them. They played cards at the kitchen table for hours, gambling with chocolate chips and stealing the piping hot cookies off the cooling racks when Miriam wasn’t looking. Miriam warned Michael not to cheat while she gathered the necessary ingredients for a ritual that she hoped would cause a nasty septic leak in her aunt’s yard tomorrow night. Miriam had asked her if she wanted to participate and she was practically bouncing at the idea of savoring her aunt’s misery once her garden flooded.

She won a handful of times, but she knew Michael cheated or at least had some sort of preternatural insight that she didn’t possess that gave him an advantage. She wondered if he’d let her win. Michael’s poker face was impossible to break unless she gave him a jab in the shin underneath the table, and then he got downright smug.

The laughter died on her lips. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Michael’s smile faltered.

“They weren’t supposed to be home.” The porch light illuminated the driveway and the glossy windows of her parents’ car. The front door was open. They’d been waiting up for her. “You should probably go before they see you.”

Michael tensed beside her, then shook his head. He stared at her like it was ridiculous that she’d even considered it.

“No, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Their heads turned at once toward the porch from where they’d stopped at the end of the driveway. Her mother barged through the front door with her father trailing behind, both of them playing the part of concerned parents. She thought that maybe they were almost convincing. She wanted to laugh, but her mother’s tone was shrill and hostile and years of shouting matches through thin walls had programmed an automatic anxious response.

“Late,” she answered, stomping up the driveway, trying to stifle the panic that flared at the sound of her mother’s raised voice. Michael followed at her side, the rage inside him beginning to trigger the power he carried. It swept over her skin like fire. “Since when do you care? You’re never home.”

“Your aunt said you never showed up at her house.” Her father planted a hand on his hip as if this happened to be some kind of monumental error on her part, and a reason for them to finally acknowledge that they had a responsibility for her existence.

“I was with Michael,” she answered. “Thought you’d be happy about me making friends—again, not like a single one of you gives a shit.”

“She said this is becoming a habit of yours,” her father continued, conveniently ignoring his sister’s own blatant disinterest. “She’s been worried.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “About losing the bribe money for babysitting me? I could always save you the trouble and just…disappear. Bet you’d love that.”

Michael’s hand clenched into a tight fist—she saw it out of the corner of her eye, felt him quaking with anger next to her as his face hardened and the darkness seeped into his gaze. The rage inside him amplified just before she noticed her father’s grimace. He pressed his fingers to the space between his eyebrows to quell the pain that she imagined had stabbed at him like an ice pick. Blood oozed from his nose and landed on the porch steps, looking almost black away from the light’s reach.

“Enough,” her mother warned. “Inside the house. Now.”

She wrapped her hand over Michael’s wrist, never breaking eye contact with her mother. Her father had already ducked inside, his hands cupped against his bloody nose. “I can handle it from here,” she whispered to him. Michael loosened his hold, and she let go. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Michael’s fingers brushed against hers. “Be careful,” he murmured. His breath ghosted along the shell of her ear. “Don’t ever let them make you feel powerless.”  

She shivered when a cool draft replaced the heat of his body and watched his silhouette disappear into the shadows of their tree-lined street. Once the front door slammed shut behind her, she followed the path to the kitchen marked by droplets of crimson on the hardwood floors. Her father was huddled over the sink, a dish towel pressed to his face, her mother hovering next to him.

“I can’t believe you.” Her mother lifted the hand that had been rubbing circles across her father’s back to point an accusing finger. “Doing that out in the open where someone could see you, hurting your father like this. Unacceptable.”

She accepted the blame only because she didn’t want to give them another reason to keep her away from Michael.

“It’s two in the morning,” she reasoned. “If someone around here noticed anything, it was you screaming at me from the porch.”

Her mother’s jaw dropped. Really, she didn’t know where she’d found that scrap of bravery, but it felt like she’d finally hit her breaking point.

“What makes you think you can speak to me like that?”

She scoffed. “I don’t know, why are you so interested in how I occupy my time?” She was seething, and she could feel it spread through her veins like a wildfire. It was a lot more than just simple anger; it had power behind it. “Why the fuck do you want to be my mother all of a sudden?” You gave up on me a long time ago.

Her father wanted to intervene, she could tell, but the dish towel was working overtime to staunch the flow of blood. She had no idea what Michael had done to him, but the result had yet to wear off. Her mother swallowed hard. She’d been caught, and she knew it. There wasn’t any reason to pretend now, no reason to explain away the fact that she’d always come last in the list of her parents’ priorities. That for most of her life, her mother had been afraid of her.

“I don’t like you hanging around that boy,” she continued. “It’s making your affliction worse, I can see it.”

That was her mother’s name for it—an affliction, a curse, for which there’d been no cure. And for a while she’d believed her mother. For years she thought something had been wrong, broken inside of her. That she needed to run from it, bury it and leave it alone.

Not anymore.

Her knuckles went white, her hand shaking as she finally released the anger welling up. Her mother let out a yelp when she slammed into the cabinets, the dishes inside rattling from the impact. She fell to the floor and scrambled until she backed up against the lower cabinets, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

“Go,” her mother choked out. Her airway was beginning to constrict, the oxygen forced from her lungs at her own command. “Get out of my sight.”

Her mother clutched at her neck, wheezing, trying to suck in a breath. Veins protruded from her temples with the effort, her face going red, then almost pale.

The whisper she’d heard for so long in the static became a scream, that voice calling to her in a language she couldn’t possibly understand. And yet she did. The power that coursed through her seemed different this time; more immense and much more potent. She saw flashes of fire and the darkness seeping down the walls like black paint blossoming in a pool of clear water. The heady scent of charred wood and brimstone engulfed her senses, connecting her to something far greater than herself.

And then something—someone?—knocked her off course, breaking the link. She returned to herself sprawled out on the kitchen floor on her side, and it felt like she’d just woken up from a dream, taken a breath for the first time. A high-pitched droning sound filled her ears, and somewhere there was a distant echo of her father yelling, her mother sobbing hysterically. She blinked until the room came back into focus. In a daze, she crawled off the kitchen floor and swayed on her feet, her hands braced on walls and furniture as she navigated the way to her bedroom.

Her whole body shuddered, the adrenaline and anxiety still alive in her system.She felt like she couldn’t take a deep breath, couldn’t think, couldn’t remember what had happened outside of herself before the fire took over. Her limbs were heavy and her chest hurt. She collapsed into her mattress, listening to the tones of her parents’ raised voices through the walls until she cried herself to sleep.

***

She fled her aunt’s house in the middle of a downpour.

Water that had already pooled on the uneven sidewalks sloshed up her jeans as she dashed through them, soaking the denim. Pressure mounted behind her eyes and burned down the back of her throat from the tears she tried frantically to subdue. She was too busy running to be distracted by it. The sky hung low, the clouds a muddy gray against the encroaching night. The storm didn’t relent just because she was trying to escape, trying to get a handle on her frayed nerves. She was drenched from head to toe by the time she slipped into Miriam’s backyard, the rain a gusty torrent of freezing water that plastered her clothes to her skin.

She leaned against the closed door once she rushed inside, water collecting on the hardwood floor at her feet as it dripped from her clothes and sodden hair. The tears came then—loud, heaving sobs that left her almost bent double from the weight of them. She reached a shaky hand up to her throbbing head and wept harder when her fingers came away bloody.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Miriam took her bruised, bloodied face between her hands. She hadn’t even heard Miriam come into the kitchen, but she nearly collapsed into her kind touch. “What happened? Poor thing, you’re soaked to the bone. Here, sit down…come sit over here…easy, now, that’s it. It’s all right. You’re safe.”

Miriam eased her into one of the chairs at the table while she tried to catch her breath. She tasted iron on her tongue, her bottom lip split open again from the effort of crying. She could smell it all around her, too—her nose had bled, she was sure of it, but most of the scarlet trickling down her face was from the cut along her hairline.

“That awful woman,” Miriam grumbled. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up, don’t you worry.”

“What did she do to you?”

Michael’s voice was pure steel from somewhere behind Miriam, but through the anger that flashed like a storm across his face, she noticed the deep concern. He was at her side a moment later, taking her chin in between his thumb and forefinger with the lightest of touches. The blue of his eyes glistened with fresh tears, but he didn’t let them fall. His thumb traced along the curve of her jaw, careful of the bruise that had started to blossom there.

“We got into an argument…about my mom.” Michael’s hand wandered into her hair and he raked his fingers through the tousled, drenched strands. She sniffled, then winced. “I threw her into a table…I thought she was going to kill me.”

Miriam returned to the kitchen with a first aid kit and a quilted blanket, which she draped around her shoulders. “Is she still breathing?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a damn shame.” Miriam settled into the chair opposite and set to work wiping the blood off her face gingerly. “I should’ve poisoned her a long time ago when I had the chance.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Michael was at the side door in a few paces, but Miriam held up her hand.

“You’ll do no such thing.”

Michael turned sharply. “She can’t keep getting away with this.” The dishes in the cabinets and jars on the counter shuddered from the burst of energy.

“And she won’t,” Miriam promised. “Last thing we need is to do something impulsive and foolish. That won’t help the situation at all—not right now, not tonight. I know you’re angry; hell, so am I, but she’ll get what’s coming to her when the occasion arises. We just have to be smart about it and wait.”

“I don’t want her to get hurt again.” She saw the tremor in his lower lip, even if he fought against it. “If something happens…”

“She’ll be perfectly safe,” Miriam assured. She let out a sharp exhale when the antiseptic came in contact with the open cut that edged her hairline. Miriam took her hand. “You’re staying here with us for the night. You’re not going back there, not if I have anything to say about it.”

“My parents are out of town for the weekend.”

Miriam’s face broke into a broad smile. “Even better.”

***

The patter of raindrops against the window coupled with distant rumbles of thunder was enough to soothe her anxiety at last. She found herself exhausted but unable to sleep. Which was fine because Michael couldn’t sleep, either. She’d crept down the hall from the guest bedroom to his room; he’d been awake, and she’d crawled silently into bed beside him. Without a word, Michael pulled her in close so that she was nestled in the crook of his arm, her head tucked against his chest. The painkillers Miriam had given her earlier were beginning to wear off—her cheek had a dull ache, the laceration on her head a mild annoyance—but there wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to be, not right now.

Michael dragged his fingers lazily through her hair, still damp from the shower she’d taken after Miriam patched up her injuries. At least now the metallic odor of her own blood had been replaced with the floral fragrance of shampoo. She’d borrowed a shirt and a pair of pajama pants from Michael—she really needed to start leaving her own clothes here in case of future emergencies—both of which managed to look a few sizes too big on her slender frame given their height difference. Not that she cared, really; she was warm and comfortable, wrapped up in Michael’s scent with his heart beating beneath her ear.

“It’s good that you radiate heat like a furnace,” she told him. Her voice was hoarse and a little sleepy. “Because I’m still freezing.”

That rain had been colder than she thought, leaving her with a chill she couldn’t quite shake.

She felt the soft vibration of his laughter below her cheek. Michael’s hand traced patterns across her back, warming her skin underneath the fabric of her shirt. His other hand still hadn’t left her hair, and she was quickly becoming lulled by the gentle rhythm of his fingertips.

Michael sighed. It sounded long-suffering to her ears; an exhaustion that she couldn’t fully comprehend.

“If something had happened to you, if she had—”

“Don’t, Michael,” she countered. “Don’t go there.” She draped her arm over his stomach. “I wouldn’t have let her kill me, you know that.”

“I know.” He was quiet for a long minute. “I just…don’t want to lose anyone else.”

She could hardly believe this was the same boy who’d nearly brought an entire house down around himself, who’d used his powers in silent rage to inflict pain on people who’d hurt her, who’d been brought into this world just to tear it down.

“You won’t,” she assured when she heard him sniffle. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“The world will be different someday,” Michael said, and she closed her eyes, conjuring the images of fire that had come to her when she’d lost herself in the midst of her own power. “Something better will rise from the ashes once this one’s done burning. I don’t know how to get there…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I think the two of us were meant to find our way to each other.”

She opened her eyes. “It feels stronger than just a coincidence.” She’d believed that was true for some time now.

“I can’t do this alone,” Michael admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to.”

That night, Michael finally told her about the house he’d been born in—a house haunted by too many ghosts, a house where the only family he’d known had given him up to the darkness.

The following weekend, she stole the last breath from her aunt’s lungs with a flick of her wrist after she’d passed out drunk in her bedroom. She and Michael watched the house burn down together, standing side-by-side on the grass, bright orange embers drifting upward to meet a pitch black sky.

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