#leaving zero doubt about which side of the fence he himself was on

[after-perfect]

I'll just leave this here...

people who don't know anything about academics: man y'all are stuffy and boring what's up with that? actual academics: *too busy fist-fighting each other over the beryllium problem or the existence of a dentistry profession in ancient egypt to reply*

[echo-three-one]

The Bounty Hunter - 3

The abandoned mine was Barkov's consistent trading area for water and Alex decided to give it a visit. What would they discover inside?

Series Masterlist

Part 3

The blistering heat of the sun was already permeating through Alex's clothes. The flannel was admittedly suitable for warm weather, but this kind of intense heat was already too much that he already took off his vest.

Soap was already a few meters ahead of him when he decided to stop and grab his flask of water, gulping it down thirstily as excess drops trickled all over his chin down to his neck until it dried out just by his chest.

"Haaaah. This heat is killing me!" He sighed as the refreshing liquid cooled his system.

"Hey! We're almost there!" Soap waved from afar, his deep tone was barely audible in the vast plains, but Alex kind of got the idea.

"Wait up!" He yelled as he let his horse gallop through the gap between them as Soap stopped for a drink. No wonder Barkov liked the abandoned mine as a pick up point, it was so far from civilization that no one would ever waste their time going there.

"Of all the days we decide to go there, It's gotta be the one with zero clouds." Soap complained as they slowly galloped through the empty field, the only thing present was a few cactuses, tumbleweeds and a small bit of the mine they're supposed to go to.

"Is it that one?" Alex asked, squinting as he was pointing at the little dot over the horizon. Soap nodded and turned to him.

"Aye. Looks a wee bit far, eh? That's the top of the mountain. The entrance is quite near." He assured as his horse neighed and they trotted faster.

"Okay, lead the way then." Alex muttered.

"So, you and Kate?" John asked. Alex found a hint of hesitation in his voice, like he wanted to know what's up but he also doesn't want to hear the news. 

"We uh… " Alex pondered. He was treading on thin ice here, considering John was her childhood and only friend, and him getting in the way between them was getting awkward. However, John's easy denial earlier hinted to the bounty hunter that there was still doubt, hope and lingering feelings. Not that this mattered at the moment, but to piss John off meant losing his guide home.

"... we're figuring things out. Everything happened in a flash. It's not that things could escalate-" Alex muttered only to be met by John's palm.

"Shh.." He whispered as they trotted across the mine entrance. John stepped down from his horse and stared at the horses near the cave.

"We've got company. And it's not good." John immediately stepped back and rode his horse, urging the mammal to move away from the mines as fast as possible.

"Hey hey hey! What's wrong?!" Alex quickly followed as John found himself a hiding spot by the rocks.

"Karim and her partner's in there. Probably mapping out the whole place. I can't afford to be seen helping you out." he whispered as he peeked once more, pulling the horse down within visible range.

"It's a dead end anyway. You can't explore with her around. She'll never let you in." John added. Alex quickly got down his horse and gave John a quick pep talk.

"Look, if Karim claims to be a bounty hunter she'll accept help. Especially that she's after the most notorious of them all. Trust me. Now tie down that horse and guide me within the mines. I'll take care of you when she asks." John looked up and stared at Alex's eyes. He'd been good at detecting liars as some of the bar customers exhibit such tactics to get free drinks, but what Alex was exhibiting was pure genuinity. 

"Fine. I've only been here once. Let's hope nothing has changed since I last got here." He got up and tightened his pants, pulling his horse by the reins and tied it to the fence.

"Got a light?" Alex asked as he pulled a lantern off of his horse's bag, allowing John to spark up his lighter to ignite the flame.

"I'll stay near." He handed the lantern to the bartender as they navigated the dark mines.

Hot dry air encircled the duo as they pressed deeper into the cave. The only sound was their footprints along with the occasional drops of water from the ceiling. So far, the route only offered a straight path, slowly descending into the deeper part of the cave network.

"This is the most absurd place to trade water." Alex muttered, his voice echoed across the tunnel.

"Who's there?!" A distinct female voice with an accent roared, followed by the echoes of what sounded like guns clicking.

"It's me John from the bar!" He yelled, his hands easily raised to surrender despite not seeing Farah or any light source ahead of him.

"What are you doing here?" A male voice followed. Alex raised an eyebrow, questioning the presence of Karim's partner.

"He's taking me on a tour." Alex declared, defending John from the threatening male voice.

"I half expected I'd see you here, Alex." Farah said as she invited them into their location. John led the way to a small opening leading to an open area where light peeked through a huge crack by the mountain, revealing a huge functioning train track with trolleys already ready for the next drop.

"Whoever's dealing with Barkov is ready. These trolleys weren't here yesterday." The male partner informed them as they approached the area to investigate.

"Gaz, this is Alex. He's also after Barkov." Farah introduced as the men had a staring contest which ended with a nod. Gaz and Alex acknowledged the competition and decided that being selfish isn't going to be of any help.

"Nice to meet you." Alex greeted him.

"You too." Gaz replied with his arms crossed.

"Where does it lead?" Alex asked as he kicked the wheels, testing its capability to move.

"Tracks split into two different cave networks. The other one led deeper into the mine while the other one led to the worker's quarters." Gaz informed, pointing to the two entrances not far from the beginning of the tracks.

"We already explored the quarters yesterday and it turned out empty. If you want to see it for yourself, go ahead. We'll be investigating the other route." Gaz and Farah paced to the other entrance leaving Alex and John behind.

"What's your call?" John looked at Alex with an expression of relief, wondering how Farah let this man work with her. 

"Let's check out the quarters." Alex muttered as they made their way to the other side of the fork on the road.

Not too far from the entrance, the track ends on a wall in the middle of a huge room that once housed tired miners. Rusty lockers, broken tables and ripped hammocks surrounded the area as John illuminated it with their lantern.

"I'm no investigator but I see no sense creating train tracks here so close to the start." He muttered, checking out some items sprawled around the room. Alex just stared at the huge wall pondering about John's initial thoughts. Something the two of them noticed upon entry.

"Well, I guess my trail ends here. Let's head home." He muttered, exiting the scene as John quickly followed him back.

"What about the other route?" John asked, catching up to him.

"Not worth checking." He dismissed, silencing the curious man.

"Well, if that's the case then… is it safe to assume you wasted your time here?" John asked.

"Not really. What's important is that they're still using this route this month." Alex mounted on his horse as they both went back to town.

~

"This meal tastes delicious, Kate!" John exclaimed as he chewed happily on his meal. Once they got back, Kate invited them over for lunch, something that the two needed.

Alex eyed Kate and nodded as Kate smiled at the thought of it.

"I haven't prepared a meal for others in quite a while. I'm glad I still had it in me." She shyly commented as the two clearly appreciated her meal.

"So, what did you find out there? Guessing from the pace of your eating, you had a tough time?" She asked.

"Well the weather was particularly hot today, so that basically burned us out." Alex replied, downing a glass of water.

"Did Isabelle treat you well?" She asked with a smile. Alex could clearly see something forming once again between them and he was truly convinced that this was more than just basic attraction.

"Yeah. She's a good horse. Never made a problem for me." Alex chuckled as Kate hovered her hand against his.

"Good." she smiled as their eyes met. He was slightly worried that John would feel odd about this, but he trusted his words were genuine. His words saying that he could never go to her as more than a friend.

"Thanks for lunch, Kate. Delicious as always. I've got to get some sleep now. I've been awake for almost a whole day." he chuckled as he grabbed his hat and left the kitchen, leaving the two alone.

"So… what's next for the cowboy?" She purred, as her hands tightened against his. Alex quickly reciprocated as their hands intertwined with one another.

"A bath and a nap… and maybe something along the way?" he raised an eyebrow as a wide suggestive grin flashed on his face.

"I like how you think." She smiled as she slowly straddled on his lap and reached out for a kiss.

The rest of the day went by and by the time Alex woke up, it was already midnight. Kate was sound asleep beside him and a quick peek at the window revealed to him a person guarding the tower. He thought about the abandoned mine, the night raids and Barkov. Something didn't make any sense. A town raid where nothing gets stolen. And these townspeople just let this thing happen? It just didn't make sense.

So, he dressed up and went to the most sensible place to ponder.

"Welcome to the Saloon 141. Can I get you anything?" Soap greeted as Alex pushed the double doors and sat on the bar.

"The usual." He muttered as Soap expertly brewed his drink and set it in front of him.

"Barkov's resupply is almost near. Any final preparations?" Soap whispered as Alex gulped a shot and asked for another.

"I have a feeling he won't do it this time. The mine looked like a trap." He muttered as Soap frowned.

"You think Barkov knew?" His voice was shaky. No doubt he was afraid that somehow Barkov would track him down.

"One way or another, yeah." 

"What about Farah and Gaz? Why didn't you warn them?" 

"They knew it. That's why they let us in. The only thing they can do there is look for evidence." he muttered as he downed another shot.

"So the elusive one escaped again…" he sighed. 

"I've had enough of these raids man, I just wanted to sleep peacefully." John added, groaning in frustration.

"Speaking of raids… when was the last?" Alex asked.

"A few months ago… The sheriff actually captured one of the members. They're from another town. The captured man was promised protection if he joined the cause." 

"And I assume that cause is unknown." 

"Aye. Sheriff Price tried everything to let the guy talk but this one was a blind follower. He had nowhere to go, that's why he joined. It's some sort of cult thing." 

"A raid without anything stolen…" Alex scratched his chin.

"Maybe they're stealing people? Because we hide when they arrive, so they have no one to steal?" Soap suggested. It made sense, maybe the raids are just ways to recruit people to join a cause. That's one way to recruit, by force. Especially when you have no resources like money to make them commit.

"That's a good idea." Alex said as he placed his payment and bid his bartender friend goodbye.

~

As soon as the sun rose up, the whole town was greeted by a corpse sprawled in the middle of the road. As soon as Alex got there, the Sheriff had already investigated the scene and held John for an interview.

Rumors quickly spread that this was John's friend from another town, the one that works for someone that deals water to Barkov. The murmurs also revealed a note drawn in blood saying "Not today, Bounty Hunter." Which the whole town assumed to be Farah and Gaz.

They left them alone back on the mines yesterday and he hadn't heard from them since. He quickly dashed back to his inn and asked Kate for permission to borrow her horse.

"Kate, can I borrow Isabelle for a while?" He quickly got up to Kate, who was already dressed and carrying a bag.

"Are you going to the mines? I'll come with you." She said. Alex had a lot of questions going on in his mind but the urgency of the matter made him dismiss it.

"Okay. But-" He asked.

"Sheriff Price radioed me. Farah and Gaz might be in danger."

Part 3 - The Mines, Gaz and Barkov's message

[shreddedleopard]

Levi and Historia’s Miscalculation: A Manga Tale featuring the Jaeger Bros. Pt. 2

Ahh ... I’m so glad you’re still here. There’s a lot to get through. Theory continued under the cut.

So let’s go back to Levi’s and Historia’s developing feelings for one another.

I’m going to jump now to one year prior to Historia giving birth, which of course is ground zero of the cataclysmic event that is the climax of this manga.

Here we have our gang, minus insanely happy Hisu (if the last set of panels we saw of her a year before is anything to go by) working on the railway.

Yams is so helpful because he marks out the season as well as the year, so we know pretty well the characters ages. Historia is definitely 18 by this point. He also takes time to have Levi himself point out how the 104th have suddenly gone from ‘those brats’ to towering adults in his eyes. Interesting. (Also, Historia is tiny. If Levi has been spending time with her and the kids at the orphanage, it would naturally be weird to see these giants who were once just the kids on his squad too.)

What’s got Eren so antsy? What urgent news is he expecting? 🤔 actually no idea. But it’s weird. Maybe he hasn’t seen them for a while.

Anyway, we find out there’s bad news from Hizuru, which leads to this panel:

Levi is a BIG FAT LIAR.

He doesn’t and won’t turn Historia into a titan. You don’t do that to someone you care about deeply. He’s trying so hard to convince us otherwise, but in hindsight, it’s obvious.

He never looks someone in the eye when he lies. You’ll see him do it again concerning Historia too, where he played his squad and the majority of the fandom and said he was going to go make her eat Zeke after she delivered her child. At a completely wrong due date. He got me too, don’t worry. Zeke’s right, he is a good actor. Or we’re dense 🤔

So anyway, Hange is all like, let’s go on a trip then!

Levi does not look impressed. Last thing he wants to do while the situation is so volatile is leave Historia. He wants to be around to protect her. And it’s got nothing to do with those supposedly clingy Ackergenes. Zeke will tell us that himself later.

Keeps popping up in this plot line, doesn’t t he? Could be important.

Right. Here’s where it gets a bit tricky. Chronologically, the next scene we have involving these two is all broken up in (what I think are) Eren’s memories. I’m going to try and seperate them out because they’re mixed in with another important event, but this one comes much later, and I’m trying to keep some sort of order. But the later event is a direct result of what Eren learns here.

Note the translation error in this - it should say when Zeke reaches the island. Because we know he’s coming at some point.

What are Historia’s lines to Eren? She blatantly tells us that TENDING TO CATTLE, ie, FARMING IS A LIE; what she’s really been doing is realising there’s no need to fight or run anymore. Hmm ... where have we heard those iconic lines before!?

LEVI BLOODY ACKERMAN.

She doesn’t need to be scared of anyone trying to harm her, because Levi is there by her side. He’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep her safe. To be fair, we’ve seen it in his eyes already. Man. What a guy.

Okay so next we have Historia being like, if I have to start a family, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Why?? Because she’s found someone she actually wouldn’t mind it happening with. AND ITS SOME RANDOM FARM GUY MY GOD PEOPLE. Although ... farmer is kind of accurate ... more on that deceit and how’s its actually not a deceit at all later.

And BOOM. Here we have two opposing ideologies coming head to head. And, I’m not saying everyone did, but most of us completely missed the ball with this one. Eren was never going to be the one to get her pregnant. Because Eren will not choose family at the crucial moments of this manga. Someone else will.

Ah, screw it, let me do one little jump to show you what I mean:

Look at their eyes. It really is a ‘that scenery’ moment. Levi deceives us through the entirety of his scene here, but he can’t deceive us when we get that tiny glimpse into his mind’s eye. LOOK AT HER. She really does look like a goddess in this moment 🥺 Levi is going to break the cycle of his family history and actually have one - he’s not going to abandon Historia and his child. But anyway, look! This is what happens. This is why I don’t jump. I get distracted.

Back to the other scene.

Cue Eren revealing his plan to her for the rumbling. Historia is naturally horrified - of course she is! This is Historia we’re talking about. How could you all doubt her!? She’s the goodest girl. Anyways. Eren couldn’t give two shits, because guess what?

He says this to her. What’s this a throw back to? Chapter 65. Literally half way back in the story. And in that chapter, Historia did save Eren ... from being turned into a Titan.

I know there’s still people out there who will hate me for this, but it’s not me - it’s Isayama. But yeah, right here, Eren just reminded Historia how she ‘shouldn’t cross the fence.’ It’s a threat. Don’t follow me.

Now up to this point, in contrast with my gushing, I do think it’s possible that Historia was considering Eren as someone she might want to have a family with, despite her closesness with Levi. But if this is the case at all, this moment completely obliterates that for her - it shatters any illusions she has about Eren’s nature, and effectively pushes her right into the arms of Levi. And so, when she tells Eren she’s pregnant in the next panels, it’s Levi’s child she’s carrying. We can gather there might be a small time-gap between them as they change positions.

This is after the railroad banquet, I believe. Where Levi takes his eye off the ball with Eren for a moment to comfort an upset Historia, which then turns into something else, and Eren, Floch and Yelena seize their window of opportunity.

[split-n-splice]

FYI this fic is mainly Shego’s POV, with some exceptions. Like this chapter, apparently.

[Chapter Guide]

4. Enabler – 1

Breaking into a government facility was a bigger deal with far higher stakes than filching a pocketful of tech from some overachiever college brats with zero security measures in place, but the former hero’s first official assignment as Dr. Drakken’s newest recruit went off without a hitch.

It had taken some haggling and reasoning with her before she really accepted the task, agreeing to chance trespassing solo – during business hours in broad daylight no less, when the facility wasn’t under nightly lockdown and when suspicious activity theoretically might go overlooked amidst all the hustle and bustle.

Parked a safe distance away, Dr. Drakken waited on standby in his dingy utility van. Though he couldn’t witness her performance first-hand, he received a grainy account of it through a small camera clipped to the collar of her uniform, which transmitted feedback to the van where he could oversee from afar from a monitor. He’d bought a map of the lab at auction, and though they’d reviewed it enough she must have had it memorized by now, he was still ready to offer direction and words of encouragement through an earpiece.

Initially, he had his doubts. Her infiltration method was alarming, to say the least, but thankfully only to him. Through binoculars, he watched from a safe distance as the peculiar superhuman lit up her hands, utilizing the mysterious fire to tear herself a hole through chain-link where she wouldn’t be seen by staff at the facility. The alternative was finding a way over several strands of hot wire coursing with high voltage along the top.

“What are you doing?” Dr. Drakken squawked, eyes wide as she tore through the fencing with little resistance. He’d been curious to see how she planned to get in, but hadn’t expected it to be so straight-forward.

Once Shego had pried apart the wire enough to slip through to the other side, she showed the button camera a hand radiating plasma, Dr. Drakken reflexively twisting in his seat to look back at the feed on the monitor set up on a bench in the back. “Mutant perks,” she answered shortly, voice crackling over the headset. “Not just for burning.”

Just as soon as the surprise of watching such a slight girl rip open a fence ebbed, he found himself cackling in amazement and wiped away a stray tear of delight. “Oh-ho, am I glad I found you. You’re something else, kid,” he chortled under his breath, and she had something crass to say about calling her kid.

When it came time to make their hasty escape, he was surprised and a little impressed that he didn’t even have to stop and wait for her as he would his henchmen, because she’d wasted no time in leaping onto the side of the speeding getaway van and slipping in through the passenger window before he could even hit the brakes. He’d barely seen her daringly barreling into the road, and the thump on the side of the van had caught him entirely off guard, but he grinned ecstatically nonetheless as she buckled in.

With the task completed and a getaway made before the alarms could blare in their wake, Dr. Drakken found it hard to take his grin off the girl as she stowed the hefty power cell the size of a watermelon in what amounted to an ice chest he’d prepared for it.

At least, until she held out her hand and said, “Pay up, old man.”

The taste of his own medicine was effective in wiping the smile from his face.

“Eager beaver,” he grumbled, fishing his wallet out and taking his hands off the wheel to count out several bills whilst steering with a knee. The reward was generous – not too generous – but enough to make her eyes light up a little as she checked the legitimacy of the bills he’d slapped into her hand.

Eager beaver was right. It must have been burning a hole in her pocket, because no sooner had they rolled into the little Nevada oasis town he’d called home for the past year did she nod to the resident Smarty Mart. “Stop here,” she requested. It didn’t sound negotiable.

Still, Dr. Drakken snorted. “I don’t think so. I’ve got to get this baby home.” He patted the crate of precious cargo wedged between the seats.

“You’ll just have to drive me back in later,” she warned airily.

“Nice try—ow!” While the superhuman’s services could prove useful, the yank of an ear he could do without. Whether he liked it or not, it appeared a visit to Smarty Mart was in order. Yielding, he cut the wheel to pull into the supercenter and she graciously released her pinch.

He rubbed his sore ear and shot her a glare, but she was too busy to notice it, already wrestling on a sweater and flared jeans over her black and green suit. She may have already been clothed, but he still had the decency not to stare as she hid her uniform. She shook out her ponytail and admired herself in the mirror on the visor while he found a place to park.

“How do I look?” she chirped.

He didn’t look. “Your boots don’t match.”

Before he could cut the engine himself, she snatched the keys from the ignition and popped out. Dr. Drakken was sure he saw her poke out her tongue at him. “I won’t be long,” she lied, and left him to groan and slump forward against the wheel.

It was unfair how easily she could manipulate him when he couldn’t do anything to her in return, as per the contract. Well, he could always fire her, but that was a last resort, and her offenses hadn’t been bad enough for that. He could live with a little bit of hair pulling and name calling and schoolyard bullying. He was still happy to have her – some of the time anyway – though that could always change.

He drummed his fingers on the wheel and bounced a leg, checking his watch every ten to forty seconds, wondering how long “I won’t be long” would be. Without his keys and without dissecting the dash to disfigure the radio into working order, he was doomed to sit in silence.

Not five minutes later, Dr. Drakken was stalking into the dreaded establishment. Eyes unfamiliar with him stared. Those who were familiar with him may have glanced his way once or twice, but otherwise carried on, business as usual. Daylight hours were not his preferred time to shop – too many people to gawp – and it took gritting his teeth not to snap at the nearest shopper staring at him slack-jawed. He wished wearing a balaclava wasn’t cause for phoning the police, but he had a thick hide and could endure some ogling and mutters.

The shop wasn’t one of the larger Smarty Marts, but it was large enough to dread trying to locate anyone. There was no telling which end of the supercenter she’d wandered off to, but thankfully he didn’t have to search from one end to the other. He hadn’t yet made it past the checkout lines when he spotted a head of raven hair with an iridescent green sheen weaving in and out of racks of clothes.

“Of course,” he sighed to himself.

When Dr. Drakken reached her, he opened his mouth but she looked up nonchalantly and justified herself before he could unthinkingly chastise her for wasting his time on fashion.

“I only have, like, two outfits,” she defended without remorse as she threw something in the cart, “and one of them’s pajamas.”

His mouth shut with a click of his teeth and he crossed his arms. She’d only been under his roof for a few days, and she’d already made her discontent over that matter known. “It’s not my fault you’re too good for the issued uniforms,” he grumbled.

“Damn right I am,” she shot back dryly as she plucked a pair of pants from the rack and held them to her waist, shook her head, and put them back. “I don’t care about your dress code. I’m not wearing a second-hand jumpsuit with some man’s grody pit stains.”

She had a point. He held his tongue.

It didn’t take long for Dr. Drakken to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot and peek curiously at the circular rack of jeans. After a hesitant moment, he grabbed the first to catch his eye – a dark pair with embroidery up the leg – and arched his brow at her with a grunt to catch her attention. She reminded him a little of a nervous squirrel snatching a peanut as she came forward with a cagey glance to inspect the item. Then she hummed, found her size, and threw it unceremoniously into the cart.

“Okay, done here,” she said quickly, a rosy tinge spreading across her face as she hastily pushed her cart along.

“So can we get—”

She shut him down before he could finish, giving him a blunt, “No.”

Taken aback by the orderly tone last used on him by his mother, he could only stare in a stupor as she moseyed away. His brow knit and his fists balled up and he skulked after her, reminding himself inwardly that just because he was complying didn’t mean he was any less the boss here. He would have given her a piece of his mind, but she pointedly stayed far ahead of him.

If only she knew how much the stolen power cell locked in his van was worth, she might be more eager to checkout – but that information was best kept to himself if possible or else she might haggle a cut of the profit out of him.

The evasive new subordinate had filled her cart with the addition of a couple rugs, a new bedspread, better pillow, some hygiene products, and a small assortment of makeup by the time Dr. Drakken caught up to her huffing candles with a contented smile. He tried again to confront her, but again she stole his thunder, this time by thrusting a jar at his face.

“This is nice,” she claimed. “Summer Bloom.”

Whatever the hell Summer Bloom was, it burned not just his nose, but his eyes too, and he jumped back, coughing. “Are you quite finished?” he groused, waving away the scent until it dissipated from his sinuses.

She selected another fragrance to sniff, but this time kept it to herself. “Didn’t ask you to stalk me,” she reminded simply, and deposited the lavender candle in her cart next to the vanilla scented.

Dr. Drakken harrumphed, but she was pushing on again before he could press the subject of leaving.

“Groceries,” she said pointedly with a nod back toward the far half of the store.

That much was hard to argue. He could only stare in exasperation at her back before hanging his head with a groan of defeat and trudging on. He would have contested if allowing her to continuously sneak down to the mess hall wasn’t begging for trouble. He’d already seen for himself just yesterday henchmen following her just a little too close for comfort. He’d warned her to stay on the top floor for a reason, and he’d be more apt to worry if he doubted her self-defense capability.

Between pinching the power cell and her little Smarty Mart spending-spree, she’d been pulled out the slump she’d been in since departing from Go City – for the most part anyway. Additions to her wardrobe, puffy blankets, and coverings for her floor and walls pacified her for a short time, along with a few comfort foods in his refrigerator strictly designated hers and hers alone which he was not to touch under any circumstances or else there would be consequences.

Her warning and finger jabbed in his chest was nothing short of resource guarding, and he had to swear he wanted no part of her fancy Greek yogurt and sparkling water.

As long as the newest addition to the crew was kept busy, she was just placid enough to coexist with. Problem was, Dr. Drakken didn’t have much for her to do at present other than sit around and look pretty, which she must have been opposed to given her downtime was spent ungracefully slouched and slumped and hung over any available surface. Meanwhile, her active time meant practicing a workout routine in his lab, as the gym was out of bounds, which made focusing on filling a weaponry order a chore in itself as each pushup she did out of sheer boredom reminded him of his own sorely neglected regimen. And if not lounging or exercising, she was perched nearby, watching him, asking the occasional question and taking some twisted delight in seeing how far over his shoulder she could lean before being breathed on got to him and he ordered her to go monitor surveillance.

Within a week of her arrival, it was decided that for the sake of all, she was best kept occupied and at arm’s length at the very least.

Friday, the idle assistant had found a seat on his desk as he wrapped up the week with some office work. She lacked the good grace to perch modestly on the edge, choosing to sit fully on it, cross-legged and taking up as much space as she damn well pleased as she read a tome off his shelves that he doubted she understood. Worse yet, she’d found strawberry hard candies in his desk drawers and had helped herself, so was audibly sucking away at bonbons and crinkling wrappers for hours.

Why he let it slide was anyone’s guess.

She didn’t look up to the henchmen as they each came for their paychecks and left with brutish grunts, though each and every last one of them took a gander at her. One must have had the cheek to make the mistake of looking at her the wrong way or for too long, because the tome she read from was suddenly snapped shut right in the man’s face, the thunderous clap startling everyone else in the room and leaving ears ringing.

He let that slide too. Disputes among the crew were usually settled without him stepping in anyway.

Sometime after the last henchman left, when Dr. Drakken finally rose from his seat and stretched, the young woman looked up to him curiously and wondered, “You don’t get out much, do you?”

No amount of determination not to grant her an answer could keep his mouth shut. “I go to the bar sometimes,” he jeered, flaunting his legal freedom to do so though it had been some months.

Somehow, she must have seen through his bluff. She rolled her eyes and hopped off the desk. “You are such a shut-in.” And with that, she produced a set of keys and gave them a swing around her finger, leaving him to gawp at her and pat his pockets.

“When did you—?”

“Come on, chief,” she crooned impishly as she backed away toward the stairwell, giving his keys a jingle as if coaxing a pet to play. “It’s Friday night. Take a break. We could go graffiti something or sneak into the movies or something.”

He followed, but only in an attempt to reclaim his property. “I’m perfectly happy spending my Friday nights in—”

“I call bull,” she scoffed, spinning around and trotting up the stairs. “But whatever floats your boat.”

Henchmen dismissed for the weekend, there was no one to radio for aid. He wasn’t sure he wanted them seeing the new recruit getting away with such insubordination anyway.

In the lab, he caught up with her, and she willingly surrendered his keys, but not without nodding pointedly to his work station. “C’mon, Doc. You’ve been plugging away at those electric baton things for days,” she said. “The fresh air will clear your head.”

Just looking at the unfinished order made him grimace. He pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes and scrubbed his face and groaned. “Rent a movie,” he haggled.

She scoffed. “Get a life. Cinema.”

“I’m the boss,” he grunted. “What I say goes.”

“Arm wrestle for it?”

He’d yet to shake the image of her tearing through chain link fencing. “No, thank you. I want to keep my arms attached,” he grumbled, and was shoved roughly enough that he stumbled. The girl snorted a laugh and sauntered on ahead. It was a damn good thing no hired muscle was around to witness him literally pushed around by the new recruit.

Still, he let it slide.

“It’s a start,” was all she had to say when she accepted his final offer of a rental and takeout. Though he elected not to join her for Carrie, she seemed content enough by the fact they still had to leave the premises to fetch the essentials.

A quarter till midnight, Dr. Drakken all but kicked in his apartment door, storming into his living room as the girl who’d crashed out on his couch jolted upright. She checked her hands and snuffed out her glow in her armpits as he ordered brusquely, “Pack an overnight bag and meet me in the garage in fifteen.” A wave to the door signaled her to get a move on it, and the flustered girl ducked out without question.

The decision it was time for another assignment was made the second he got wind of a troubling development. Ordinarily, a handful of expendable grunts would be loaded into the van and sent away to do his dirty work, but it couldn’t wait until Monday or for the on-call to assemble. In any case, it was something for the newcomer to do.

Hero discipline had her in the garage within ten minutes. Though not exactly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, she was fully dressed in her specialized uniform with her go-bag slung over her shoulder on the off chance the expedition took longer than necessary. She threw it into the back with his duffel bag and asked where the fire was.

Dr. Drakken was reluctant to admit just yet that his reasons may be petty, so he kept his mouth shut on the details, and explained only that they were destined for the southern coast of California – which meant another tedious road trip, which had her begging to let her stir up a high-speed chase. Unsure whether or not she was only messing with him, Dr. Drakken had no choice but to drive the whole way himself, as there was no chance the chugging old utility van could outrun the cops. He held his ground that she not derail the operation.

It took a while and smoothie to silence her, but she eventually resigned herself to sitting quietly. Since her arrival last weekend, she’d been something of an insomniac, not unlike himself. Dr. Drakken gathered it wasn’t normal for her though, given how much she grumbled about restlessness and withdrawals in the dead of the night when she hovered in his lab or he caught her sulking in his kitchen. It had been surprising enough that she’d dozed off on the couch, and even more so when she slept through the night in the passenger seat, snoozing the ride away.

With her eyes shut, it was safe to let his wander over to the young woman clad in her harlequin gear, which she seemed determined to never be without outside of necessity. He’d begun to wonder what was so special about it, but hadn’t asked. Sentimental perhaps, but that he was doubtful given how adamant she’d been about leaving her hero life behind.

Since finding the article in The Examiner of the missing hero and grisly hospitalization of her team leader, Dr. Drakken was more apt to believe the young woman he’d enlisted had honestly forsaken her old ways, and wasn’t just flagrantly flaunting the suit and alias as a symbol of her kinship to mock him for letting her infiltrate his lair so easily. There had to be some secret to her uniform.

He made a mental note to someday get a hold of it to analyze it. Or maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just ask? Glancing to the gloves concealing Shego’s weapons of choice, he grimaced. With hands like hers, no matter how politely he put it, something as audacious as, “May I inspect your clothes for a bit?” might actually hurt.

He had time to consider how he else might broach the subject. He had the whole trip. And then however long it would take to work up the nerve to either ask or steal the gear from her outright.

By the completion of her assignment, however, he discovered her uniform may not hold any great secrets after all – which was something of a letdown for combat gear produced by the world’s largest leading underground hero organization. There were no hidden gadgets like automated energy fields to shield her, and the material’s durability left something to be desired, though it still acted as armor just shy of impenetrable which was still far better than his henchmen’s simple denim.

Although the former hero succeeded in her task of infiltrating his rival’s California bay base and demolishing a seismic generator prototype, she fled back to the getaway van heaving for breath and clutching her ribs. The video feed had gone offline, but a round of gunfire assaulted his ears over the headset, and her caterwaul punctuated the moment she’d been struck. He didn’t need to rely on the feed as he watched his rival’s base collapse as the dark figure responsible dashed across a field and ducked into the cover of a culvert.

“The bastard shot me!” the livid woman announced a minute later as she threw herself in through the side door. She slammed it shut as Dr. Drakken floored it, and he threw a bewildered glance over his shoulder as she plopped down in the back.

A light smear of blood stained the front of her uniform, bright red and glistening as it streaked down her to her belt. He had to tear his wide-eyed stare away as she unzipped to tend to herself, but the rearview mirror didn’t hide his view of her picking a flattened bullet lodged just beneath her skin and simply flicking it away in disgust as if it were just a speck of crud.

Aside from the bloody smudges and steady ooze, he caught an inadvertent glimpse of discoloration sprawled across her abdomen, which he doubted had anything to do with the small bullet wound. It raised concern too of course, but he wasn’t about to pry into when she’d sustained the bruising, though he couldn’t shake the concern the henchmen may have roughed her up.

Shego groaned irritably. “I thought you said short stuff was too high-horse to stoop that low?” she griped.

He’d never said that. He’d only explained his former associate had a leg up in the villain field. If she’d underestimated his affinity for weapons, then that was on her. How was he to know Dementor would resort to using such a rudimentary weapon like a firearm anyway?

Dr. Drakken tried not to grimace any deeper as he grabbed a handful of napkins from the console to pass back to her. Her injury couldn’t have been too severe if she could pick out the projectile with her fingernails, but it certainly bled plenty, as wounds tended to do.

“You’ve been shot before?” he wondered, trying not to sound too curious. Her heated glare burned on the back of his head, and he tried not to spare her another glance through the rearview mirror.

“Sort of?” she hissed out through grit teeth. “Shrapnel and rays and energy blasts, yeah – but not—” She growled in frustration or pain or both and slammed a fist on the wall. “Not one of the perks. I’m surprised none of us have been popped in the head yet,” she groused, firing a finger gun at her own temple for emphasis. “That would’ve gotten rid of us quicker, but most villains have class. That little shithead played dirty.”

“Villains don’t always play by the book.” Surely she knew that.

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, and mumbled a pained curse under her breath.

Zipping back up wasn’t a priority as she relocated to the passenger seat, compressing wadded napkins to the injury despite the potentially broken ribs. The girl blushed furiously, just shy of indecent with her top pulled shut best she could to cover up, and Dr. Drakken had the courtesy not to stare as she tried shaking her hair to the front for good measure.

“You don’t need a doctor, do you?” he asked, already keeping his eye out for a blue hospital sign. “Because I’m not that kind of doctor.” Not licensed, anyway.

“I’ll be fine. Used to crap like this.” She grimaced at the thorn in her side nonetheless. Drakken raised his brow and almost glanced at her, but thought better. She laughed through grit teeth, “But if I ever need an ugly stitch to match yours, I’ll hit you up.”

Although her specialized suit wasn’t flawlessly indestructible or entirely bullet-proof, and she clearly wasn’t either by any means, it was reassuring that she was such a trooper. A subordinate who could tough it out was hard to come by. Dr. Drakken was willing to hold her in just a little higher regard, because although she wasn’t in a fantastic mood, she wasn’t really complaining either. She demanded a stop at a pharmacy, but that was it.

They barely spoke on the return trip. In fact, they hadn’t said a word since the pharmacy. It wasn’t until they crossed the state line into Nevada that Shego threw her shoplifted magazine down to the floorboard and let out a dreary huff.

“You’re swerving a lot, Drakken,” she noted.

He grunted dismissively. “It’s the potholes,” he blamed, but his jaded passenger didn’t buy it.

She sat up straight to stretch herself out, only to wince and reach for her sore ribs. “Maybe I should drive,” she suggested, though her tone suggested she was more bored than concerned.

“So you can play cat and mouse with highway patrol? I don’t think so,” Drakken grunted, earning a harmless thump on the shoulder.

“Pull over. You haven’t had any rest since – since I don’t even know,” Shego noted sharply. “Your bags are baggier than normal.”

Though she had a point, Drakken scoffed, steeling his resolve not to let himself be bullied into compliance again even if his eyes stung with exhaustion. He didn’t even know when he’d last had any rest. Still, he grumbled, “You haven’t known me long enough to know my normal. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

She upped her insult game. “It’s making you ugly.” Tried to, at least.

“Oh, I wasn’t before? How sweet.”

There was a click as she removed her seatbelt. Before he knew it, she was removing his too.

She was decidedly insane.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he barked, nearly swerving into the guardrail as she wedged herself between him and the wheel. She weighed more than he would have imagined. Pushing 75 down the highway made it all the more uncomfortable, and try as he might to stave it off, his face burned  as he shook her fluffy hair away to peek frantically over her shoulder. “This is dangerous, Shego!” he sputtered. “Get off!”

“Don’t like it, move over,” she suggested curtly. “The assistant thinks you need some assistance. What’s the point of hiring me if you don’t let me help? Dumbass.”

Again she had a point, not that he was eager to admit it, but at this point Drakken was quick to decide his safest bet was to forfeit control of the wheel and pedals before they could wreck. It was an awkward change of hands if there ever was one as he clumsily retreated to the passenger seat.

From his new spot, he glared harshly across at her as she settled in as if she hadn’t damn near caused a pileup on the highway. But despite her own weary glare at the road, he caught her lips twitch with a satisfied little smile, evidently quite pleased with her means of persuasion.

Drakken harrumphed. “You win this time,” he grumbled crossly as he slumped back and buckled up. He was more awake now than before with that maniac at the wheel.

“Sweet dreams, Dr. D,” she crooned with mock sweetness.

The switch may have been against his will, and frankly terrifying, and Drakken may have been sour for having his position stolen so easily, but her insubordination did grant him some respite. By some miracle, despite now knowing what a reckless driver the newcomer could be, he still managed to catch his forty winks.

It was the loud clanging of the garage door shutting that awoke him later that evening, and he sent silent thanks upward that the unruly recruit hadn’t lead a car chase to his doorstep while he was out for the count.

She didn’t wait up for him, hurrying off into the lair while he was still sluggish with sleep and rubbing his eyes. The wounded superhuman made herself scarce, hiding herself away for the rest of the evening and delaying Drakken’s chances of getting his hands on her gear. The alone time gave him a chance to rehearse at least.

Late evening had rolled around by the time she reappeared, inviting herself into his living quarters as though she owned the place. Her hair was damp and she carried a new tropical aroma with her as opposed to the earlier scents of blood, sweat, and smoke. Drakken couldn’t help noticing that even her uniform had been thoroughly cleaned, the minuscule bullet hole mended and indiscernible.

“Ah! Girl,” Dr. Drakken greeted as she sauntered past him and into his kitchen. He sat at the island on a stool, having been focused on a crossword puzzle in the local newspaper while he’d waited to catch her sneaking in for a snack.

“I have a name,” droned the young woman as she helped herself to his fridge for a can of his root beer, skipping over the sparkling water she’d made such a fuss about the other day. “Shego. Say it with me. She. Go.”

Drakken rolled his eyes and pushed his crossword aside. “Let’s get down to business, Shego,” he drawled, and gestured for her to take the barstool across the counter from him. She paused and stared for a long moment before warily obliging, watching him exchange his glasses in favor of donning a set of geeky goggles with multiple lenses to toggle. “Remove your gloves,” he requested flatly. He’d been practicing the command for the past hour now, but he still barely managed to get it out with confidence.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me see your gloves,” Dr. Drakken reiterated, and fidgeted with the adjustments of his goggles as he waited.

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Moonlight. (B. Urie x Reader)

For: @Xyilous on Wattpad

Request: this is pretty weird, and you don’t have to do it, but would it be possible to write a werewolf kinda thing? i don’t have an exact story line but maybe the reader and your choice of a band member are friends and go to a party or something but end up staying too late and (band member) has to leave suddenly because of a “family issue” but the reader follows them. you can go from there, that’s all i got. i love your works btw!

-----------

Sipping from the red solo cup in your hand, you loitered in the unfamiliar living room, standing as far away as you could from the hoard of sweaty, drunk teenagers grinding against one another in the middle of the room.

The music was loud enough that you could practically feel your internal organs pound each time the bass would boost, prompting you to slink even further into the shadows.

Parties weren’t generally your scene; the only reason you were even attending this one was because your best friend had begged you to. Something about needing back-up in case things went wrong with this guy that had invited her.

You knew that was a lie (the guy was one of the rare good ones), and she only said it to get you to get out of your room for once instead of being your usual antisocial self, but she was incredibly convincing when she needed to be, so you caved in and agreed to go.

But naturally, she was now nowhere to be found, and you were stuck awkwardly hovering around people you didn’t know, with your only saviour being the drink in your hand.

And it wasn’t even alcohol – it was ginger ale. Perks of being the only one in your friend group with a driver’s licence: you were automatically the designated driver. Always.

So essentially, you were receiving zero enjoyment from being there.

Then, you turned to get another drink, and that all changed.

There, standing by the front door, clad in his customary leather jacket and ripped black skinny jeans – Brendon Urie.

You watched him as he greeted a couple of guys that stumbled passed him, his puffy lips barely twitching into a smile as his free hand tangled into the hair that was falling into his face.

Biting on your bottom lip, you kept your eyes glued on him as you absentmindedly worked on pouring yourself another drink. Brendon had finished greeting, and now stood still as he scanned the room, seemingly in search of someone.

You swallowed harshly as his gaze locked with yours. Maintaining eye contact, you refused to look away as he stared at you, cemented in place on the rug. It was only once you lifted your newly filled cup to your lips that he started moving towards you.

“Hey,” he said once you were close enough to hear him, stopping only two feet away from you.

“Hey.”

Turning to the side, he reached for a beer from the ice bath on the drinks table and twisted the cap off. His movements were slow and subtle, but it still sent a waft of his cologne through the air; you inhaled deeply, loving the smell.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a slug.

“Yeah, same here,” you said, frowning lightly as you watched him take another long drink, “Should you be drinking? Didn’t you drive here?”

Shrugging, he pushed his hair back. “I need it.”

“Rough week?”

He nodded as he downed the rest of the bottle, hissing after he swallowed the bitter liquid. “Yeah, and it’s not over yet. Fuck, I hate beer.”

Despite his declaration, Brendon reached out to grab another bottle of the fermented beverage. You raised one brow, lips twitching upwards in amusement.

“Clearly.”

“They never have the good shit at these parties. So suffer I must.”

Tapping your finger against the rim of your cup, you titled your head to the side and looked on as he slugged half of the bottle.

“Your taste is way too refined for the regular folk. I doubt that bourbon and whiskey have ever even passed their lips,” you commented, earning a smirk from the guy in front of you.

“I know what I like,” he said, taking one step closer to you. You could feel his body heat radiating off of his sculpted frame; he was always so warm. “Sue me.”

“Mm.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a group of girls standing across the room, shamelessly ogling Brendon. One of them ended up meeting your gaze, and she conjured up a filthy look to toss at you, with the rest of her group following suit not too long after.

You couldn't blame them, honestly; you were standing wonderfully close to him, occupying a VIP seat to the viewing of his gorgeous features in all of their glory. Hell, even you were jealous of you.

“Those girls are eye-fucking you,” you informed.

He cocked one brow and scoffed softly. “Do I look like I care?”

You had to fight to stifle your laugh. “That’s not very nice,” you teased.

“Like I said,” he finished off the beer and placed the empty bottle in the nearby trash bag, “I know what I like. And that… is not it.”

“No?”

“No,” he confirmed, shoving one hand into the pocket of his jacket and cocking his head in the direction of the patio door, “Come on. I need a smoke.”

~

With a disgusted look on your face, you leaned against the pillar of the porch with your arms folded, watching in disdain as Brendon retrieved his lighter and lit the cigarette dangling from his lips.

“I can't believe you’re still a smoker.”

Arching his brows, he blew a puff of smoke through his lovely lips. Taking one step backwards, he rested himself against the opposite pillar.

“I’ve been told it makes me hotter. Doesn’t it?”

“Sure. But no one’s gonna care when you die from lung cancer.”

“At least I’ll be a hot corpse.”

Knowing that you were fighting a lost cause, you rolled your eyes and moved to sit on the steps. Inhaling deeply, you held your hands under your knees and looked up at the stars.

“Stay with me, babe,” Brendon remarked, finishing off the cigarette and putting it out against the bottom of his shoe, “Don’t get all ‘existential crisis’ on me. Not tonight.”

You fought hard to supress the smile threatening to spill onto your face. It never ceased to amaze you how well this guy actually knew you.

“That’s not the case every time I look at the stars, you know.”

“Now, now,” he seated himself next to you, close enough so that your shoulders were rubbing against each other, “We both know that’s a lie.”

“Whatever,” you scoffed.

Reaching into the inside pocket of your jacket, you pulled out a metallic flask and unscrewed the cap. After stealing a brief glance at the brown liquid inside, you took a swig, then held it out to Brendon.

He accepted it with a smirk, which turned into a huge grin after he tasted the contents.

“I kinda hoped you’d show up,” you admitted, explaining your reasoning for bringing a flask filled with bourbon to a teenage house party.

“Love of my life,” he sighed dreamily, drinking some more.

You looked at him with an intrigued expression. “Me or the bourbon?”

Brendon just winked at you.

Laughing, you refocused on the night sky, admiring the moon.

“Wow. I can’t remember last time I actually sat outside and looked at the moon,” you said. “I forgot how beautiful it is.”

Your comment resulted in Brendon’s attention shifting to the sky almost instantaneously and as he did so, his face paled.

“Shit. Tonight’s a full moon.”

The hint of urgency in his voice confused you, and you creased your brow as you nodded slowly. “Yeah… just like it is every month….”

“Wait, what day is it?” Brendon asked, looking at you with panicked eyes. “It’s Friday, right?”

You shook your head. “Saturday.”

As if it were possible, Brendon’s face grew even paler.

“Shit!” he hissed loudly, scrambling to his feet. He fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “Fuck, it’s almost midnight,” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for you to make out.

“What’s wrong?” you asked in concern.

“I- I have to go,” he said, hurrying down the steps of the porch, heading for the back fence.

“Brendon, wait!” You rushed after him, pulling his arm to try and get him to stop, but he yanked himself away harshly. “What’s going on? Why are you-“

“I just have to go, (Y/N), okay? I’m fine. Don’t worry, just… go home.”

Everything about the way Brendon was acting was unlike his usual self. His confident, cool and controlled, slightly cocky demeanour had ostensibly dissipated, and what was left was someone who could only be compared to a scared, vulnerable child.

It scared and worried you beyond belief, to see Brendon like that, but when you tried to press him for an answer, he just ignored you and ran off.

You watched in complete puzzlement as he scaled the backyard fence with cat-like agility, before dropping to his feet on the other side and disappearing into the forest.

Everything about the last two minutes sent you into a frenzy of worry, and so you did the only reasonable thing you could do in such a situation…

You followed him.

~

Tiny wisps of air from your breath floated into your field of vision as you shone your phone’s flashlight in front of you, directing you through the dark abyss that was the local forest behind the last street of houses in the neighbourhood.

It was dark all around you, and the random noises emanating from further into the woodland expanse did nothing to calm your nerves. The further you dwelled into the forbidding forest, the more you regretted coming in the first place.

Brendon had left no trail after him, making it next to impossible for you to know which way to wander. You'd been walking for close to fifteen minutes now, and for all you knew, you could’ve been going around in circles the entire time.

The only thing keeping you going was the thought that Brendon could be in there somewhere, possibly injured or in need of help, and that was enough to ease any qualms you had.

You continued on, albeit reluctantly, and just when you thought that you had gotten yourself unforgivingly lost, you heard a sound that scared the shit out of you, while simultaneously drawing your attention towards a secluded structure not too far away from you.

A gasp slipped past your lips as you heard the sound again – a howl. You knew that the best thing you could’ve done at that point was to run away; you knew that.

But you didn’t.

You ran, yes, but not away from the building. Towards it.

Adrenaline pumping through your veins and heart pounding so loud that it drowned out all other sounds, you followed the groans and howls coming from inside of the structure.

The front door was rotting away, so getting inside was no problem. Once you were in, you slowed your steps, your common sense finally settling in as you realised how extremely dangerous the current situation was.

You had no idea what was waiting for you around the corner, and the sounds coming from there made you feel as if you didn’t want to find out, either.

Yet, you found yourself walking forward; it was as if your legs were moving out of their own free will, and you couldn't stop them even if you wanted to. Slowly, carefully, you rounded the corner… and your blood ran cold.

There, curled up on the floor, was Brendon.

Well, partly Brendon, partly wolf.

You were frozen in shock, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to even breathe. All you could do was watch, watch as the guy you’d drank bourbon with half an hour ago transform into a creature you’d previously only believed to be mythical.

He was writhing around in pain, torn between his human form and his wolf form, sounds coming from his mouth alternating between animalistic and humanoid.

It took him a moment before he noticed you, but even through the dilated pupils of his yellow wolf eyes, you could see that he recognised you.

Immediately, he scooted back, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, as he attempted to repress the awfulness of his transformation.

“It’s-it’s okay,” you croaked, throat dry, as you carefully edged forward, “It’s okay.”

Brendon howled in pain as his body strained against the chains holding him back; it was obvious that the metal digging into his skin was hurting him, and you found yourself reaching out to help.

Before you could comprehend what you were doing, you had found the keys dangling from one of the wrought iron bars from the opposite cell and unlocked the chains.

Groaning out in protest, Brendon bore his teeth at you. It was a clear attempt to frighten you into running away, but you knew that he was still himself, so you made no such decision.

Unsatisfied over your conscious choice to stay, Brendon lunged at you, deliberately knocking you off of your feet and into the other cell. You landed with a thud, moaning in discomfort as a twinge of pain shot through your arm, while Brendon took advantage of the fact that he was still partly in his human form, and hurriedly locked you in.

Springing up to your feet, you rushed over to the bars, breathing heavily as you looked on. Brendon was fighting back against the transformation, stumbling around and groaning and hissing in pain as he summoned all of the willpower he had inside of him to prevent the wolf from coming out.

It was already incredibly hard to control during his regular monthly routine, when he was alone during the full moon. But now that you were here, and now that there was a possibility that he could hurt you, it was more crucial than ever for him to stop it.

Miraculously, he managed to supress the overwhelming urge to transform, resting his open palms against the cold stone wall as he tried to regulate his breathing and get his spiked heart rate down.

A couple minutes later, he dragged his tired body over to your cell, resting against it as his bruised fingers worked on undoing the lock.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered, closing your hands over his as he opened the cell for you to step out.

He didn’t answer, only clenched his jaw and avoided your gaze, and you sighed. Your stare raked over his body, and a shudder coursed through you.

“You’ve been locking yourself up?” You traced the welts on his body in horror, red and raw from a full moon of chafing.

Brendon shoved himself away, allowing his temper to take over. “What the hell did you follow me for? Untie me for?” he demanded, glowering at you, “Are you crazy?! I could have killed you!”

“You’d never hurt me.”

Apparently your words were amusing, because Brendon chuckled bitterly. “All well and good but the wolf isn’t me,” he snarled.

“No wonder it’s pissed off if you never let it stretch its legs,” you scoffed, referring to his action of fighting off and resisting the transformation.

“Oh, don’t act like you know anything about it! You found out like five minutes ago!”

“So you’re telling me that you don’t resist the transformation every month?” you cast an accusatory glare his way.

“That’s not-“ he cut himself off, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply. He counted to three in his head and then opened his eyes again, speaking in a much calmer tone. “You have no idea what it’s like, (Y/N). So don’t come at me with this condescending bullshit.”

“Okay, so tell me what it’s like,” you pressed, inching closer towards him, “Talk to me. I can help you, I can-“

“You can’t!” he exclaimed impatiently, combing his hair back out of frustration, “No one can. This is something that I have to deal with. Me. It’s not your problem.”

His outburst silenced you, and you stood in one place, watching with a frown as Brendon slunk down against the metal bars, letting his head hang down.

“What if I want it to be my problem?”

Brendon looked at you like you had just spoken an alien language. You crossed over to where he was sitting and joined him on the dirt floor.

“In case it wasn’t made clear enough by me risking my life and coming here,” you started, stretching out your legs and hooking one ankle over the other, “I care about you, B. A lot. And this is a seriously heavy situation; I don’t want you to have to deal with it alone, you know? Because you don’t have to.”

Your words hung in the air for a moment before Brendon showed any sign of acknowledgement. The tiniest of smiles spread across his lips, as his hand lifted up to your face. Gently, he tucked your hair behind your ear and traced his thumb over your cheek.

He leaned in nearer to you, close enough to kiss you but not giving you that satisfaction. Instead, he let his lips hover just above your mouth, barely ghosting over your yearning lips and causing your head to spin with anticipation. Just when you thought you couldn’t handle it anymore, he closed the remaining distance between you and captured your lips in an amazing kiss.

“Fuck, I should’ve done that a long time ago, huh?” he breathed after breaking the kiss, laughing softly before leaning in for another short one.

“Mhm,” you agreed, nodding as you deepened the kiss for a couple seconds before pulling back and looking at him with a serious face, “So is that a yes? You’ll let me help you?”

Brendon sighed, running his hands through your hair. “You’re not gonna give up, are you?” You shook your head. “Fine. But you have to promise me that you won’t untie me ever again, alright? It’s not safe.”

“I promise.”

“Even when we’re married.”

You nearly choked on the air in your throat. You’d just shared your first kiss a few seconds ago and he was already talking about marriage?

“Who says I’m gonna marry you?” you gave him a strange look.

“Please,” he snorted, taking your arm and rolling up your sleeve to reveal the tiny birthmark shaped as a half-moon on your forearm, “I imprinted on you.”

“You what?” you gawked.

“Imprinted. It’s when-“

“Yeah, I know what it is. I’ve read Twilight,” you held up a hand to stop him, shaking your head as you stammered in disbelief, “But wait… you imprinted on me, but waited two years to tell me about it? Or to even ask me out?”

Brendon rolled his eyes at your overdramatizing. “We don’t have control over when we imprint and on who – if it were up to me, I would’ve waited. This shit is dangerous, and I didn’t want to drag you into it so early. But because you’re a nosy little-”

“Watch it,” you warned.

“-you kinda threw my entire plan off.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah,” you gave a prideful smile, before realizing something and creasing your brow, “So this means that I’m, like, your soulmate?”

“Yeah,” he smirked lazily, “Remember when I said that I know what I like? Wasn’t kidding.”

You laughed incredulously. “And that means when you said ‘love of my life’ earlier, you were talking about me.”

“Oh, no, I was talking about the bourbon.”

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

 Taglist:

@darknessdancing  @raversam @username-number-01834 @untilyouburnallofthewitches @underscoredarcy  @justawriterinprogress @anotherwriterinprogress @sheridans-dynamos

[dbhilluminate]

DBH: Illuminate- Hit and Run (part 1)

Characters: Connor-50 / Z, Dennis, Nick, Kate, Connor-51 / RK, Axl  Word Count: 2,598

Axl spots a trine of RK800's entering Detroit on a bus inbound from Belle Isle- Kate moves to tail them with the intention of finding out why they're there, but is spotted by Connor's doppelganger and forced to do something she regrets in order to escape.

( Chapter Art by triple_jays_art , Co-authored by grayorca15)

Previous Chapter

• Chapter Index • Characters •

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November 12th, 2038 - 12:54 PM

By the end of the journey, Dennis almost wished their special travel privileges had been revoked. Standing at the back of the bus might have been degrading for models of their ( dubious ) stature- compared to that, sitting wedged into an armchair-style seat wasn’t any more pleasant, but it was useless to rue any of it at this point, like insisting on taking the window seat in spite of irrelevant comfort. HIs partner squinted and placed a hand on the glass to see further out the window in anticipation of what their first glimpse of Detroit would entail. Thus far, the rolling expanses of countryside —field after field of unharvested late-season corn— had yet to give way to congested metropolitan sprawl. Nick sighed and turned back to him in disappointment. "How much longer? Why is it so far? I didn't know it would take so long."

Such questions were unsuspicious to the rest of the tour bus’ human group, but exhausting to have to answer ten times over. Instead of responding with his usual weariness, Dennis skimmed ahead to the next news article on his tablet, slouched down in his seat with his elbows bowed and his ankle crossed over one knee. He cut enough of a surly image he hadn’t been bothered by other passengers looking for small talk, though his covert attire helped throw off suspicion. In his Michigan State Wolverines hoodie, blue jeans, and ski cap crammed down over his brow, Dennis looked like just another laze about young adult catching the bus back to the city. He’d even left the laces of his boots untied to better help sell the idea. With every lazy turn the bus made they swayed one way, then the other. Dennis ran through a few possible responses before he opted for a casual nudge of his toe against his partner’s knee. This might have been a bearable arrangement, if only he would quit fidgeting every five minutes.

“You lookin’ for a distraction, or you want the same answer I’ve been givin’ you the last five hours?” Nick knocked his knee against his in rebuttal as he continued to look out the window, then turned and leaned back toward him, eyes wide under an old Detroit Tigers ball cap. "I'm just curious! It's been so long since we’ve been home… how much longer ‘till we get there?" The tablet in Dennis’ hands updated in real-time: a few mentions of road accidents that had waylaid everyday commuters at several junctions along I-75, interrupted his reading with a few annoying pop-up banners that he swiped away after reading. “An hour, provided the traffic doesn’t logjam between here and there,” he replied, then paused to take a sideways glance at his partner’s leg jittering up and down like a piston. Dennis recalled that had been their third’s plan to eat up the few hundred miles between Dayton and Detroit, but four hours in, Nick had recharged all he could will himself to. Now he was brimming with nervous energy he couldn’t work off, as always. Good plan, bad result. “What happened to sleeping your way back?” Nick reached to fuss with one of the arms of his windbreaker jacket and fidgeted in his seat. His leg stopped for a moment. "I tried that, but I'm not- tired anymore. We're going so slow… Too slow. Can't they go any faster? When will we actually be in the city?" “Soon enough,” Dennis replied, and dialed back the exasperation in his tone to spare them both the aggravation. Whether or not the delays could be helped didn’t stop Nick from whining about it anyway. There was no sense in getting annoyed.

Dennis glanced back and around at their company, most of whom were either asleep or too engrossed with their mobile electronics to notice, and made one slight tug at the ski cap. His LED dimmed beneath it, but he needn’t chance someone noticing the faint glow. As he opened the wireless communication channel between them, he reverted back to their usual banter: Don’t whine so much, you’ll draw attention to us. Their press coverage was still minimal as of yet, and most photos tended to consist of only one of their three faces. The odds they’d be outed were minimal, but it was still attention they didn’t need. And you know Zero could use the recharge. Nick twisted around and directed a too-obvious glance at their dozing primary seated a few rows back on the opposite side of the aisle. The RK800 (formerly known as “Connor”) faked a nap, head tilted back against the cushy headrest with a smart-looking cap pulled down over his eyes. Okay, okay, fine… I'll stay quiet, the anxious Android agreed as he settled back into his seat, then propped his chin up in the palm of his hand as he frowned at the floor You’re fussing more than the three-year-old in Row E. Dennis nodded to illustrate his point, directed a raised brow to the child in question, and rubbed at his eyes. I know you don’t like long rides anywhere. But you know why we’re being recalled, right? He had explained it. Whether or not Nick had been listening was another matter entirely. His partner leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as he re-accessed the data, and remained quiet just long enough to formulate an answer. Yes… we're going back to Detroit to- uhm… help with something.

Nick never had possessed the longest attention span of their trio… Capacity for learning meant human mannerisms could easily sneak their way into all the machine-like tics that came with being an android, but they still needed to be tempered. Dennis shut his eyes before the urge to roll them got the better of him. Even if it was the perfect moment to indulge one, he refrained from exhibiting any deviant-centric behaviors, lest he give Amanda another reason to add a new tally his behavioral report. Yes. We’re going to help determine where Illuminate has been operating. Zero’s redundancy twin is a whisker away from rooting out their base of operations, and he could use some backup closing the net. The long and the short of it, as described by Amanda, wasn’t that their time around the Midwest had been a complete waste, but now that they were in the know about Zero’s “other half”, it stood to reason that they’d been sent out of the city to keep from overlapping on DCPD cases. Her patronizing reassurance did nothing to calm the faux bubbling of anxiety in Dennis’ lines, however; in fact, it had done the opposite by seeding the suspicion of irrelevance. He was simply better than Nick at concealing what he felt, as much as he wasn’t supposed to.

Nick bypassed the information that they were being sent to help uncover the largest connection that would help them prevent a deviancy uprising, and immediately went for the acknowledgment of Zero's twin. Instead of skeptical, he was genuinely earnest to embrace the notion of a lost ‘relative’. The prospect didn’t scare him at all. Oh, yes, I knew that. I can't wait to meet him! I wonder if they look different... you know, so we can tell them apart? I wouldn’t want to confuse one for the other. Dennis scoffed and twitched his crossed-over ankle to purge some of the subdued restless energy. That’s hardly our biggest concern. This isn’t a social call, it’s for the good of the mission. He may not have always liked being the anchor of their group, but someone had to be. I know, I'm just excited. The wait is making me anxious… Nick trailed off as he took a hopeless look out the window again, then realized what he should have said and turned back to Dennis. A-and to get started on the mission, of course.

With a slow, careless blink and a small sigh, Dennis cleared the news article he was no longer one-hundred percent focused on reading, just as a green mileage sign flashed by. Toledo, Monroe… then Detroit- all potential deviancy hotspots. Depending on what kind of network Illuminate had established, they could have connections everywhere. Thirteen months was a long time for roots to spread. Even if they had only been dispatched to try and round up stragglers, sending three deviant hunters after an un-quantifiable number of deviant Androids across several States was a slapdash attempt at containing the phenomenon, at best. Deviants were as varied and widespread as the humans they took after. Dennis doubted he and his partners would have been able to see so much of the Midwest any other way, though. Mission parameters raised no red flags against lingering on a rooftop a few minutes longer than necessary to watch the sunrise over a foggy Lake Eerie, or peer through a fence to appreciate the teamwork of two dozen grade-schoolers playing a round of baseball after class- or study the diligence with which a monarch butterfly moved from one milkweed plant to the next, carrying out its natural function as a pollinator against all odds, natural or otherwise. That instance in particular, Dennis remembered having to stop and remind Nick it was time to leave. The garage in the middle of that bough harbored no deviants, just a wild assortment of insects. He would have been successful, too, if the damn butterfly hadn’t thought to land on his partner’s wrist. Nick had gone completely still as soon as it landed, letting out a breathy gasp and donning a wide-eyed stare. " Look, Dennis, look- wait, don't come close, you'll scare it off! ” Which was how the presumed in-out inspection job turned into a thirty-minute ordeal of tagging along after a ziggy little monarch. Even after flitting away, its new fan put his android abilities to use, sprinting after and tracking it like a fox chasing a hare. Dennis had followed only to ensure no harm befell their third, while Zero went alone to determine the deviant’s next most likely hiding place. They returned to find Zero standing idle outside the tool shed, while a recovery team from the nearest Cyberlife depot tazed and loaded the exposed fugitive up for transport. That had been three months ago- now here they were on the cusp of winter, headed back to Detroit to take part in a far more important manhunt. Colder temperatures were already leaving flecks of frost on the Greyhound’s curvy windows. It was strangely foreboding. But there wouldn’t be any butterflies this time, or so he’d hoped.

November 12th, 2038 - 03:37 PM

The Rosa Parks terminal wasn’t the first stop their bus made within the city limits. On the off chance they had been noted by prying eyes between Dayton and Detroit, they had been instructed to disembark at random. This counted as such. They didn’t need to step off as a group, but months on the road together only served to reinforce the invisible tethers- where Zero went, Nick and Dennis would follow. If he asked them to wait, they would. If he ordered them not to speak to anyone, they wouldn’t. Anyone who wasn’t law enforcement or related to an active case weren’t to be extensively interacted with- Which was why the moment two parka-wearing children darted out of the crowd and tripped Zero up was so unexpected. Z’s nostrils flared as he barely sidestepped quickly enough to get out of their way, and a hand shot out to brace himself against the side of the idling bus. “Sorry, mister!” Amidst more carefree giggles, they wove back into the crowd, right back to their parents’ sides. After being cooped up on a bus for god only knows how long, it wasn’t any surprise a kid’s first instinct would be to run amok at the first opportunity. With his disguise intact and his cover no worse for wear, Zero returned his focus to locating the subspace storage compartments running the length of the vehicle and entered the six-digit code Cyberlife had forwarded. A panel slid back to reveal a black gym bag, right where they said it would be. All that remained now was to get to Central Station.

They could have summoned a taxi, but with the chill of winter rolling in on the heels of November (cool and breezy, tempered with city smog), it wasn’t unbearable. In contrast to the stuffy interior of a tour bus, one might even call it refreshing; besides, it would do them good to walk, to stave off freezing joints. They had an itinerary, but not an expected time of arrival. Hiking the last leg of the journey to the station didn’t go against any pre-existing orders, and it would give them time to acclimate to their urban surroundings. Zero shouldered the bag by pulling the bandoleer-style strap over his head, then grabbed the brim of his cap and gave it a firm downward tug. Underneath, his LED flickered and spun up. Would you two mind walking from here on? Nick looked around at their new surroundings and nodded absent-mindedly, not at all realizing that he looked like a star-struck tourist in a less-than star-studded city. Oblivious to this as ever, he straightened up and focused with a gleeful smile. Yeah, I’d like that! Just look how nice it is. The bus ride was so long… and the station isn't that far. ‘Nice’, Dennis scoffed over the line as he cinched up his for-show knapsack and led the way out of the boarding area under the iconic inverted-umbrella, funnel-shaped tensile canopy. They kept at least an arm’s reach from each other as they wove into the crowd, but stayed within each others’ line-of-sight. Sticking close together was the best possible formation if they wanted to avoid being sidetracked. Don’t go getting too used to it, Nick. You said the same thing about Chicago, before that breeze almost knocked you off the DuSable. I didn't know it would be so strong, Nick protested in defense, sounding half-embarrassed by the mention of the event. It was as close to an infamous public screw up as they had yet known. The smile dropped. I know now, I won't do that again. At least not when it's windy. Just stay away from the river, you should be fine. Detroit only has one.

That she did. Wide and noticeable as it was, an expanse of sky and sea was all that separated the states from Canada. But beyond that to the southeast, past the assortment of towers and the even-further faraway silhouette of Windsor, a lattice-covered spire shaped like a speartip pierced the horizon as if it were threading a needle through the clouds. Zero had glimpsed it as the bus rode the elevated interstate. Now, his brown eyes subconsciously scanned the urban skyline for it as it crossed his mind once more, as if he owed it at least one fervent glance for being the closest thing to ‘home’ most androids knew.  Even if it said place wasn’t for him, there was the illusion of disdain in looking at it. Knowing what he did about their excommunication from its shadow, he wasn’t in any hurry to lay eyes on CyberLife Tower again. Why should it feel familiar, or welcoming, when they hadn’t even had enough time to get attached to the sight of it? The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, but before he could let it fester, he turned and fell into step with the other two.

[sinclination]

Ayyyyyyyyy, it’s been a while, but I’m back to inundate the keitor tag with my headcanons! Today’s hot mess: Who says I love you first? Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first? And my personal favorite, What do their family/friends think of their relationship? 

more keitor headcanons here!

17. Who says I love you first?

Lotor tries to say it first; he fully resolves to make Keith understand how he feels, and the depths of his feelings, but his feelings are such a tangled mess of needing Keith and fearing losing him and fierce, jealous protectiveness that his brain sort of... skips over ‘love’ as the obvious descriptor at first. It results in him talking circles around the point he’s not 100% aware of himself- he knows he has dangerously deep feelings for Keith, it’s just not until he’s halfway through his carefully crafted spiel to Keith that he connects those feelings to the concept of romantic love, and that’s mainly because Keith blurts out ‘I love you’ in the middle of his speech.

So yeah, Keith says it first. For all the advantages Lotor has over Keith, practice at being vulnerable is not one of them. Keith isn’t the best at either, but he’s at least had Shiro to help him learn there are people it’s safe to share his feelings with, that there are people who care about him and how he feels, and that vulnerability can be worth the risk. Also, he’s just not good at beating around the bush the way Lotor; the moment he connects the dots Lotor is laying out, the moment he realizes he feels all the things Lotor is describing and those things mean love to him, he gambles on Lotor loving him too and puts himself out there.

It still takes Lotor a little while to work his way up to those specific words, but he doesn’t leave Keith doubting his feelings in the moment-- he makes a point of showing Keith instead.

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

Well, obviously Keith does, by virtue of having family and friends to tell. When they get together, Lotor and his generals are still on the outs, and while he has subordinates and former comrades he would be... not necessarily 100% comfortable informing, there’s no reason to go spreading it around that he’s in love and, ergo, has a massive exploitable weakness now, thanks for asking. Historically speaking, for Lotor, sharing good news has not been a positive strategic decision; even when it hasn’t resulted in someone trying to take the good thing from him, there wasn’t massive positive reinforcement for taking the risk in the first place.

There isn’t massive positive reinforcement for telling Team Voltron, either. Part of it is that they don’t tell the team so much as get undeniably caught-- which results in a lot of bitterness and hurt feelings and general suspiciousness that Keith hid the relationship from them in the first place, especially Shiro. But once it does come out, Keith is pretty viciously protective/defensive of Lotor and the relationship itself. He has an extremely low tolerance for anyone expressing doubt of Lotor's intentions, either towards Keith or in a more general 'can we trust him as an ally’ sense because he feels Lotor has more than proven himself by the time the team finds out about the relationship.

 20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

Initially? N o b o d y is happy about it, but they pretty much all work their way around to dealing with it in their own ways.

Coran doesn’t need to get over a damn thing, he barely bats an eyelash at the revelation. He’s there with bells on to rib Keith about his new paramour (Coran’s exact words, to Keith’s quiet horror). Coran remembers when Alteans and Galra were allies, when Galran diplomats roamed the castle of lions freely and courted their Altean peers, and part of him is deeply nostalgic for that peaceful time. Seeing Keith win the heart of the empire’s prince lights a little spark of hope in Coran that the Galran people can be saved from the horrific war machine Zarkon has created, and that real healing can happen after the end of the war.

So, to celebrate and show precisely how supportive he is of Keith and Lotor’s relationship, he decides to play the role of Keith’s absent father in Galran fashion, and challenge Lotor to single combat to test his mettle as any self-respecting Galran parent would do to their child’s suitor. Keith is mortified, Lotor is deeply worried and confused about how to proceed, but also really appreciative that Coran is trying to legitimize his relationship with Keith? and he would really like to participate, but he also does not want to antagonize Allura in any way, because she has the legal and royal authority to essentially exile them both from the castle? Luckily, Coran manages to tweak his back in the process of demonstrating one of the Extremely Lethal Martial Arts he intends to use on Lotor, and declares him worthy of courting Keith without anyone getting (more) hurt.

After Coran, Hunk is over it the fastest, which kind of baffles Keith, because early on Hunk was the most vocally suspicious of Lotor. When Keith asks him about it, Hunk just shrugs and goes, “Eh, if you like him, he can’t be that bad. I don’t think your whole ‘code of honor’ thing you’ve got going on would let you date a really bad guy.” It’s possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to Keith, that they trust his judge of character.

Lance is next to go from shrieking about fraternizing with the enemy to grumbling about Keith getting alien-laid before him to teaching Coran’s cubes to sing about Keith and Lotor sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. It really doesn’t take Lance long to succumb to his own need to tease Keith once its combined with his low-key obsession with Romance. Hunk is already sick of Lance ranting about star-crossed lovers and Keith-the-mullet getting picked by a space prince like some kind of story-book pauper.

Pidge gets over it next, after she completes another thorough run down of every piece of security footage, secure transmissions, and scraps of gossip from various Blade agents she’s been gathering about Lotor while he worked with the team and the blade. When Lotor finds out, he’s more impressed than anything else at the thoroughness of her operation. Pidge is like Hunk; once she confirms for herself that there’s zero concrete evidence of a potential betrayal, she’s willing to trust Keith’s judgment.

Shiro is next, not because he’s not willing to believe that Lotor is on their side, but because... well, he wanted good things for Keith. He saw a lonely, traumatized kid, and he really hoped Keith would be able to heal and grow and one day fall in love with someone who would be just as crazy for Keith as Keith would obviously be fo whoever he found, and have a nice, happy family with a nice white picket fence. Shiro’s hopes and dreams for Keith did not come close to anticipating that Keith might fall in love with a prince and former enemy officer who had literally conquered planets and ordered the death of who-knows-how-many innocents in Zarkon’s name. So yeah, he struggles to accept that Keith has picked Lotor of all people when Shiro wanted better for Keith. Keith makes it clear that Lotor is his idea of better, though, and while things are tense and there are some arguments, Shiro does come back around to being supportive of Keith and his choices, and does his best to get along with Lotor. It’s incredibly awkward for everyone involved, and continues to be for years afterwards.

Allura has the hardest time. Allura has already been struggling with the bitterness and pain of the realization that after he murdered her father, her mother, her entire family and her people, Zarkon went on to have his own family for 10k years. Allura looks at Lotor and only sees a cruel dark mirror of what she could have had, a living family. It hurts her to see someone she judged as cruel and calculating have everything that she desperately wants (even though Lotor doesn’t, not really.) and now she see Lotor as getting even more of what she wants. Once, before she had to take her father’s place, become a paladin and the leader of a coalition in a brutal, bloody war, she had dreamed about falling in love and starting a family and living a happy, peaceful life. The darkest, most wounded part of her hates seeing how happy Lotor is with Keith and how deeply they love each other; there is a small wounded child inside of her screaming that it’s not fair, it’s not right that Zarkon’s son should get everything Zarkon has taken from her. The rational part of her understand Coran’s point of view, why it’s a good thing that Lotor is on their side and in love with a Paladin of Voltron, securing their alliance with him; but it still breaks her heart and doesn’t do a damn thing to soothe the pain she still feels every day.

[ionchef]

King of Anything - An Escaflowne Fanfiction

A/N: The other day, I re-discovered Sarah Bareilles' King of Anything and it prompted this one-shot to form in my head. Now, granted, that song is more about a guy with correctile dysfunction aka mansplaining syndrome but it's not about that. It's specifically one line in the song that inspired this story. Well, just go with it.

If you're on Insta and are curious how I imagined Merle, go you to 'angelganev' and look for a pretty recent drawing of a super adorable pink-haired girl with two buns.

This is meant to be light-hearted entertainment. Don't take it too seriously.

[Edit 09/16/18: Couldn't have been more wrong about this being a one-shot. I have decided to pick up this story again and am in the process of creating an outline. Stay tuned!]

I'm just playing in Shoji Kawamori's sandbox again, making zero coin off this story.

King of Anything

Act 1, Chapter 1:

In which Van opens a door and Hitomi drops something.

It was dumb. Dumb and boring. Dumb because the physicians were still, after a whole damn week, refusing to allow him to leave his bed, and boring because of, well, being stuck in said bed without any sort of entertainment whatsoever. It was a just cause for slow but gradual declivity into insanity. He had been told numerous times that he still needed rest and even though hotly contested by himself, there was absolutely no debate about it.

Van Slanzar de Fanel, heir to the throne of Fanelia and soon-to-be-crowned king was, until further notice, strictly ordered to rest. To say that he was miffed about it would have been an understatement. If he had to swallow so much as another drop of the bitter, medicated tea they brought twice a day, he would most definitely hurl. If he had to taste it even one more time, he couldn't be held responsible for what he was going to do.

Oh how gladly he'd instead fight that bloody dragon again. All the dragons in Fanelia, no scratch that- all of Gaea, actually- just to get his hands on a freshly brewed, delicious cup of hot, steaming coffee. The lack of caffeine was another, very undesirable, side effect of the bedrest they still had him on. Not even his younger sister, Merle, could be convinced to smuggle a cup out of the kitchens for him, and she would pretty darn well do nearly anything for him under normal circumstances.

At present, said younger sister was still in her usual post on the floor next to his bed, holding onto his hand and napping with her head resting on the mattress, legs curled up by her side. Pink hair, which she liked to carry in two small buns on top of her head had become disheveled from moving around and was beginning to spill onto the crisp, white sheets near their arms.

Of course, Van had told her already days ago that spending every waking hour with him was not necessary. As it was, however, they were the only two remaining members of the royal family so her protectiveness towards him was not entirely unfounded and it wasn't like he wouldn't act in a very similar way if the roles were reversed.

Funny, Van thought now as he stared at the fresco on the ceiling above his large four-poster. Funny how Fanelia's capital was protected by tall, metal walls topped with electric fences to keep out the land dragons native to the kingdom but when it came to traditions, they had no qualms whatsoever about sticking the last male heir of their royal family into an ancient, primitive armor and pushing him out the gates, armed with nothing but a sword and a shield. Not to forget, that was after his brother had already failed at the rite of dragon-slaying years ago.

When Merle finally woke from her early afternoon nap by his side, she stretched and fixed her hair before popping some gum into her mouth. She loved gum and even though the governesses who were supposed to educate her in proper behavior and etiquette befitting a princess kept taking it from her at every possible chance, she always somehow had a piece in her mouth again mere minutes later. It was pretty likely that she had a secret cache somewhere in her room. Clever. Van could really learn something from her in those regards.

"Van, I think it's time for your tea again soon." She announced while getting to her feet, smoothing the wrinkles out of her favorite yellow sundress in the process. "I'll go grab a snack from the kitchens and bring you a cup myself."

Van's eyes widened at her words but he said, "sure. Thanks, Merle," while one of his eyes involuntarily gave a nervous twitch. There was no use in arguing about it. His health was her top priority and it had made her unsympathetic to any and all of his complaints about the foul-tasting brew.

Over my dead body! Was what Van actually thought after the ornate door clicked shut behind his sister. In the blink of an eye, he was out of his bed and across the room, stripping off his black, silk pajama shirt with a few quick movements on the way. He winced a bit when his right arm protested. Ah yes, the injury. The very reason for his much abhorred, mandated bedrest and sole justification for why they were still keeping him quasi-locked up in his own, royal chambers.

Van had managed to slay the dragon but not before the beast, in return, had wounded him with the sharp, bony protrusion at the end of its tail. In hindsight, he had been lucky to get away with only a deep gash on his sword arm considering the beast could have roasted him to a crisp in a matter of seconds. Sure, it hurt but he seriously doubted that a flesh wound warranted anything more than three days of bed rest. They had stitched it together pretty well, after all.

What he really, really needed right now was a good cup of coffee to satisfy the craving and lift his spirits after lulling about and vegetating in the same spot for days. Enough was enough. He needed to get out of here. Only for an hour or two at least, before he'd lose his mind completely.

Luckily, there was a pair of ordinary denim pants way in the back of his closet, behind the suits with the royal crest and the scratchy embroidery around the tight collars he usually wore when going about his duties. No, going out by himself and enjoying some much-needed freedom would only be possible incognito. Luckily, the pants still fit and comfortably so, although he couldn't remember when he even had the chance to last wear them.

Probably sometime before Balgus insisted on upping the sword training to make sure Van wouldn't suffer the same fate as the oldest Fanel offspring. The combat training had eaten up a good chunk of his free time. It was fine, though. Really. He never complained about it. If anything had happened to him during the rite of dragon slaying, all the uncomfortable responsibilities would have fallen upon Merle. Not a royal by birth, his adopted sister would have had to marry some foreign aristocrat to be able to even stake a claim to the throne and Van just couldn't leave her to such a fate. He didn't consider himself particularly fit to rule even now but at least he had received some formal instruction alongside Folken since their father had passed years ago.

Van hastily picked a button down shirt from the endless pile of fresh laundry and yanked the sleeve up his sword arm where the thick bandage was, rolling up the cuffs to just under his elbows after hastily closing the small buttons, only haphazardly tucking it into his pants after. Wait, what was he doing? He didn't have to do this. This was incognito prince Van. He tugged the, now slightly wrinkled shirt, back out of his pants and let the hem hang comfortably loose.

Unfortunately, the royal wardrobe almost exclusively offered a wide array of polished dress shoes. A pair of soft, brown loafers meant for traveling in the summer was the least fancy thing he could find. Perfect, and who needed socks anyway.

When looking into the large full-length mirror, Van noticed that his hair was in a state of complete disarray from the restless tossing and turning he had been doing in bed all day. How convenient. It looked a far cry from the usual, slicked back style which had become his signature look over the past years. A faint smile formed on Van's lips when combing his hand through the mess to drag some of it across his forehead and cover more of the dark skin and trademark garnet eyes he could easily be recognized by.

Drat. This was indeed a dead giveaway. Looking around… Ah-ha! The royal wardrober's least favorite pair of sunglasses just so happened to be Van's favorite. He usually sported them during sword lessons in the relentlessly hot Fanelian afternoon sun and that was pretty much the only reason they had not yet mysteriously disappeared from his wardrobe. The lenses were mirrored, framed by a thin, metallic wire and would completely hide his eyes from anyone. Dressed like, perhaps, a preppy-looking university student, he would be able to roam the streets freely. Just so long as he got out of here before Merle was back, of course.

This was, without a doubt, the worst day in Hitomi Kanzaki's life. Not only had she been soaked from head to toe by a surprise rain shower this morning, torn a lace on her favorite pair of sneakers, and walked in on her two roommates making out with each other in their apartment living room. No, she had also just dumped a whole, fresh carafe of coffee onto the floor behind the counter of the little coffee shop she worked in. It was a good thing there weren't any customers in here at the moment. This was still a slow time of day what with it being a bit after lunch but too early for people to stop in for a pick-me-up on the way home from work.

Perhaps, if she had known that it was about to get even worse, she wouldn't even have left her bed this morning.

Of course, right then, while she was still kneeling on the floor to take care of the mess, the bell on the door chimed behind her to indicate that somebody had entered. Hitomi plastered a fake smile on her face. "Hey! Welcome! I'm sorry I had a small mishap. Will be right with you." She announced while scrambling to her feet from her kneeling position on the floor and gingerly dropping a handful of glass shards into a nearby trashcan.

The tall guy who was passing through the doorway at first appeared to be unusually nervous for a customer. He was checking first left, then right over his shoulder to perhaps see if he was being followed. Then, seemingly more relaxed, he casually sauntered up to the counter where Hitomi was still standing in a puddle of lukewarm coffee, the soles of her sneakers squeaking as she shifted her weight.

"Afternoon. I'll have a cup of coffee. A very large cup of coffee. Black." The man said upon arriving at the counter. Hitomi eyed the dark-skinned stranger more closely before replying.

His clothing was a bit disheveled, the slightly too elegant dress shirt wrinkled at the hem, and his face accessorized with a pair of mirrored shades which completely hid his eyes. He didn't seem to be planning on taking them off like anybody else would have by now.

An ebony mess of hair covered his head and fell across his forehead in charming disarray. He could be handsome, but it was hard to tell without seeing his eyes.

"Sorry, I just dropped the carafe a few minutes ago and need to clean up this mess before I can get a new one from the storage room in the back." Hitomi apologized, visibly a bit annoyed at her own clumsiness. "If you don't mind waiting a little, I'd be happy to make fresh coffee."

The guy scratched the back of his head while turning his head again to look through the large glass windows on either side of the door through which he had just entered while saying, "sure no problem."

Hitomi nodded and crouched down on the floor again to pick up some more of the many glass shards that littered the immediate area. Before she could proceed, however, the guy had come halfway around the counter. What in the world was he doing?

Van saw an unmistakable hue of scarlet pass by the storefront. A royal guard. Damn, they were fast. Surely, his sister had alerted them immediately after she had returned to his room and found him missing. With nowhere else to hide, he quickly stepped around the counter to where the young woman was kneeling to shield himself from view. "Let me help you with that," Van mumbled and moved to reach for a piece of glass near him.

"Wait what are you doing? Don't cut yourself!" Hitomi exclaimed in alarm. It most definitely wouldn't do to have a customer get injured while picking up broken glass.

Hitomi's hand shot out and grabbed the dark-haired guy's arm. Her fingers wrapped around it firmly, pulling him away from the glass and catching him slightly off guard with her reaction. His head moved up and the lenses of his glasses reflected Hitomi's own face back at her. "I don't want you to hurt yourself." She said a bit annoyed but meaning well.

She was pretty. No make-up, short hair, and with a few freckles across her nose from being out in the sun.

"Fine then. Do it all yourself…and let go because that hurts!" The stranger replied, clearly irritated, and winced a bit while readjusting himself and attempting to get back up.

Hitomi's eyes widened when she released his arm. "By the gods…did…did I do that?" She uttered in horror upon seeing that where her hand had been only a moment ago, a scarlet splotch was beginning to bloom on the white fabric of his shirt.

"How in the…was there glass?" She stuttered before scrambling to her feet too, the mess completely forgotten while she checked her hand back and front to see if a stray shard had caught itself on there without her noticing.

"Oh dear. I'm so very sorry. I don't know how that happened! Please let me take care of that." She said with a horrified expression on her face, motioning towards the guy's arm which he was cradling a bit protectively by the elbow. "Your coffee is obviously going to be on the house," she said for a lack of anything else.

Van couldn't help but be a bit amused despite the accident. The young woman, probably around his age, had not the slightest idea who he was even though the news about his injury had spread like a wildfire. When she took his hand, he noticed that it was much smaller than his and soft, not calloused from holding a sword nearly every day over the last five years or so.

He was used to being treated with respect and a sort of standoffish care by the staff, never ever being dragged around. Certainly not ever being dragged around the counter of a tiny coffee shop and maneuvered into a worn, wooden chair next to a square table by the wall.

"Wait here. I'll get some first aid supplies," the woman said while she hurried towards the back, skidding a bit through the spilled coffee near the back counter on the way. She was athletic looking, dressed in tight khaki shorts and a green polo shirt under the short, brown apron that was wrapped around her waist.

When she came back, she was holding a white plastic box with a red cross on the lid. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. I'm in nursing school. I just work here to make a bit of money on the side." She said while depositing the container on the table.

"Really, I'm so sorry I don't even know how that happened." Hitomi stammered again, looking at her hand as if to check again whether she had perhaps spontaneously sprouted a pair of sharp talons without her own knowledge.

Van didn't have the nerve to reply. What was he supposed to say without giving himself away? He was currently also busy staring at her face again. As flustered as the young woman with the short, honey blonde hair was, she was becoming prettier by the minute. Maybe it wasn't just her looks but also her naturally endearing demeanor. He didn't really protest either when she investigated the sleeve of his no longer completely white dress shirt.

No cuts or holes were to be seen, of course. A bit bewildered, Hitomi scrutinized him, her face so close to his that Van was afraid she would see right through the lenses of his mirrored shades. "I can't get to your upper arm. Would you mind just taking it off?"

Van only stared at her while his eyebrows traveled far above the metallic rim of his shades. Was she serious?

"I see shirtless male patients during my rotations all the time. It's not a big deal." Hitomi assured him, the professional through and through.

Quite serious, so it seemed.

Fine then, Van thought, slowly becoming extremely curious and also a bit uncomfortable due to the freshly leaking wound. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea after all to at least have it wrapped up. Walking down the street with a bloody arm would most certainly draw a whole lot of unwanted attention.

He fumbled with the buttons of his shirt a bit, the stinging pain in his injured arm making his fingers slightly clumsy. "Here, let me help with that," the woman immediately offered when she saw that he was getting nowhere. Her hands gently pushed away his and deftly undid the button row in mere seconds. If it hadn't been for his naturally dark complexion, the faint tint of red on Van's cheeks would have been blatantly evident. It wasn't every day that a woman undressed him.

Okay, maybe she shouldn't have so vigorously insisted on helping because this, this was most definitely a first. Normally, Hitomi's professional attitude surpassed any and all awkward situations but the slightly arrogant guy with the ebony hair, the sunglasses he still didn't feel the need to remove, and the wrinkly, bloody shirt looked quite a lot more built, no…let's call it 'healthy'…than the average guys who normally came by the teaching clinic to get free urgent care. This wasn't even a guy. This, most definitely, was a man.

A man who was quite a sight to behold. Hitomi realized that not only had his face a dark taint, his skin was dark, no, bronze all over, making it ostensible that he was a native Fanelian, much unlike her who had moved here from Northern Asturia a few years ago.

His dark skin spanned across a slim, well-muscled stomach, a broad, equally toned chest and nicely shaped shoulders and arms. Hitomi gulped and only somewhat regained her composure when the man carefully peeled the blood-soaked sleeve down an already bandaged upper arm. The bandage, of course, was soaked too.

It seemed like a fairly serious injury and this finally caused Hitomi to snap out of it and back into professional nursing mode. "Good grief, where did you get that injury?"

The dark stranger froze in his movements for a second before answering. "Don't worry about it."

His evasive reply rubbed Hitomi the wrong way but she decided not to question him any further for the moment. Getting his arm cleaned and wrapped up was more important right now.

Van was relieved by her reaction but then winced when she removed the dripping bandage. Her hands were quick and careful but the sticky fabric pulled uncomfortably on the wound, making Van hiss and squirm in his seat, the injured arm jerking away by reflex.

"Hold still you're only making it worse." She admonished him, pushing down on his shoulder to prevent his arm from moving out of her grasp again. The royal physicians, as dedicated as they were, usually apologized profusely at any small sign of discomfort from him when changing the bandages. Not her, though. How irritating and refreshing at the same time.

"Looks like a few stitches have come loose." She said full of concern. "Obviously I can't fix them with what I've got here but it's small enough for me to use a taping technique that will hold that part of the wound together. It's likely going to scar a bit more at this point, seeing as how the healing process already started…around a week ago, I'd judge?"

A pretty darn precise estimate. An estimate that would have maybe given him away anywhere else but this woman was clearly not one to follow the news very closely.

"I don't care," Van replied finally. He really didn't. It wasn't like many people would see it anyway, what with him being stuck wearing these awful formal suit jackets all the time. By Escaflowne's scaly hide, one of his first orders would be to completely re-design any and all of these damn suits. For the past years, Van and his sister had still been bound to the etiquette and traditions set in place by the long line of royals before them but things were about to change drastically.

"Okay then," the woman replied and began rummaging through the box to retrieve a bottle of antiseptic. When she began to clean the bloody gash, a crease appeared between her eyebrows. "How on Gaea did you even do this?" She couldn't help but inquire again. "The edges are all jagged and torn. Not something you'd get from anything I can think of except...," she shook her head now, the thought being too silly to finish.

"Except from what?" Van couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Except from…being outside the walls, fighting a wild beast." Hitomi exhaled audibly after saying it. "…but that's madness. Who would be idiotic enough to go out there?"

Who indeed? Van had to wholeheartedly agree with that last part, albeit quietly so and in his head.

This man dressed in a once crisp button-down shirt certainly didn't seem like the kind who would willingly head out for an adventure beyond the walls and make it back alive to tell the tale. Then again, he did look fairly strong, Hitomi couldn't help but be reminded of that fact as her eyes wandered back across his exposed upper body again.

Nope. This was not the time for wandering thoughts. Most definitely not.

"I'm going to need you to push down on the dressing for a moment while I look for something." The blonde woman instructed him while already beginning to rummage around the box for more materials with one hand, while still applying pressure to the wound with the other.

Van wordlessly and obediently complied. It was truly something to behold. The temperamental prince of Fanelia normally did not like to follow anything that sounded like an order, especially not by the physicians, and if, then not without making his extreme displeasure known.

He numbly reached around with his hand and placed it on the woman's smaller one which was pressed onto his upper arm, compressing the wound with a piece of thick gauze. His larger hand had firmly trapped hers in place. As a response, her face immediately flushed a charming shade of red and they stared at each other for the duration of several heartbeats.

"N…n…no I mean…I need my hand." She stuttered charmingly.

"Oh, right. I'm sorry." Van replied equally flustered and let her retrieve the appendage from his hold.

She quickly claimed it while averting her face to go through the box again instead. "My name is Hitomi, by the way."

"Hi-to-mi." Van tested out her name slowly. It definitely was foreign. She likely hailed from one of the other kingdoms.

Her name sounded very different when he said it and it somehow had a nice ring to it. The thought made Hitomi's heart beat oddly fast for a moment.

"What's yours?" She asked the man to distract herself from the feeling.

Shit. "Uh…never mind that." Van replied evasively. It had come out a bit more rude than he had intended.

Hitomi pursed her lips a bit at the answer. She had just begun to think that maybe he wasn't as arrogant after all but clearly, she was mistaken.

"Suit yourself," Hitomi replied as she finally found what she had been looking for. What a weirdo. Undoubtedly good-looking but definitely weird. It would be best to get him out of here asap after making sure that wound was taken care of properly.

Hitomi unboxed the flex tape and cut a few strips off the roll while a strange silence lingered between them. The dark-haired stranger pulled a bit of a grimace again when she asked him to remove his hand and began to tape the top edge of the long gash. He groaned in response to the intense discomfort.

It obviously hurt and no wonder, the wound was deep. Any sane person would be resting, taking it easy instead of wandering around, buying coffee. Hitomi's eyes darted to the man's face right next to hers. He was watching her intently, probably to make sure she wasn't going to botch him.

She finished stretching the last piece of tape across and smoothed it down as gently as possible. Van's face tensed once again. "Just making sure it's sticking well to the skin. I stretched it pretty good so the elasticity of the tape trying to revert it back to its original length will be pulling the wound together.

"Ok, great." Was all Van managed to say when he regarded her big eyes from behind the privacy of his shades. They were green, he now noticed. Her eyes. So green. At that moment, those green eyes flickered over to the side, distracted by something she saw outside. Van quickly turned his head to follow her gaze.

Damn. A royal security guard was right outside again, scanning the immediate area for any trace of him.

Van panicked. What if they saw him? Would they recognize him despite the hair and the sunglasses? In a desperate moment of sheer lunacy, he reached for Hitomi's shoulder and pulled her around to the other side, effectively shielding himself from view.

Hitomi shrieked a bit when he grabbed her with gentle but deliberate force and moved her. In her still slightly bent-over position, she lost her balance and nearly stumbled over her own feet but Van caught her around the waist so that she landed on his lap instead.

Arms flailing briefly, Hitomi supported herself on the next best thing she could reach- a muscular shoulder and a solid portion of pectoral. If she hadn't been so shocked, she would have immediately scrambled back to her feet but the guy had his one arm wrapped tightly around her waist while the other rested on her bare thigh, halfway under the short apron.

Color and heat tinted Hitomi's cheeks once more when she noticed how close their faces were again. So close she could feel his breath brush across her face and feel the warmth radiating off his broad chest. What in the world was happening? Why was she not getting up right now?

Van gulped when he felt her slender form against his. She was clearly some kind of athlete, he decided when his hand on her bare thigh felt lean muscle there. This was most definitely more than he had bargained for. His eyes briefly darted back to the window on the side, taking note of the security guard who was now all too close to the storefront, attempting to look inside past the cursive writing that decorated a good part of the window with the coffee shop's name.

That's when the usually dignified but stubborn prince of Fanelia panicked even more. For a lack of time to come up with a smart plan and to save his hide from being found, he unwrapped his good arm from Hitomi's waist, reached around the back of her head and pulled it across the short distance between them.

Without much warning at all, poor Hitomi found her lips crushed against those of the man whose lap she was presently still trapped on.

Hitomi's grip on his shoulder and chest immediately tightened, her fingers digging into the muscle mass in either location. Van's eyes rolled back to the window nervously while his lips were locked with hers. The royal guard was turning his head away, seemingly embarrassed at having caught two lovers in an intimate moment.

He left only a moment later, but Van's lips didn't seem to want to detach themselves from the woman's silky, soft counterparts. Relaxing a bit, his eyes slipped half closed, matching hers. This was exhilarating and just probably the most scandalous thing he had ever done.

Van couldn't resist and carefully moved his lips against hers, eliciting a small, muted noise from the woman who seemed to be resurfacing from her state of stupefaction. Just as fast as it had begun, it was over. A bit delayed, she finally recoiled in complete and utter shock and scrambled off Van's lap. His hands fell away, although a bit reluctantly, in the process.

"What on Gaea do you think you are doing?!" She exclaimed in a much more high-pitched voice than before, touching her lips with the tips of her fingers before using the same hand to slap him so hard across his left cheek that the stupid sunglasses finally fell off his face and bounced onto the floor. "You can't just do that!" She yelled angrily while taking another step away. "Who made you king of anything?!"

Van's head was still turned to the side from the force of her quite mighty whack. Hitomi stood across from him, panting a bit from anger and confusion while her hands were balled into tight fists. He slowly rose from the chair and retrieved his beloved shades which had landed not too far away. Straightening himself, a single chuckle filled with dark mirth escaped his mouth.

He just couldn't help it right now. "My father." Van finally replied with a single, raised eyebrow as his garnet eyes caught her angry, green ones.

That's when it hit Hitomi. The man's dark, native look, his wound which seemed to have been inflicted by a wild animal from beyond the wall, his reluctance when it came to tell her his name, and then those uncanny, garnet red eyes. Of course. She had heard about it last week on the news but not really paid attention all that closely. The council of advisors had finally decided to send the youngest, male heir of the royal family beyond the walls to complete the rite of dragon slaying. He had returned successfully but sporting a pretty gruesome wound.

Prince Van de Fanel undoubtedly looked a lot different than on a TV screen or in newspaper pictures. His hair was normally always impeccably styled, combed to the side or slicked back while dressed in expensive, tailored suits featuring the Fanelian crest and fancy embroidery.

It indeed was the worst day in Hitomi Kanzaki's life. Not only had she been soaked from head to toe by a surprise rain shower this morning, torn a lace on her favorite pair of sneakers, walked in on her two roommates making out with each other in their apartment living room, and dumped a whole, fresh carafe of coffee onto the floor behind the counter of the little coffee shop she worked in. She had also slapped the heir to the throne of Fanelia. Quite hard.

Hitomi felt hot, then cold, then hot again for a whole array of reasons. Embarrassment, confusion, but most of all, anger. She gritted her teeth. "You!" She hissed, eyes glinting with agitation. "…you…..," she continued with a slightly different expression on her face, brows twitching and a finger pointing at Van across the distance as if she wanted to impale him with it.

Van could nearly see the gears in her head turning. "You?" Van supplied dryly while Hitomi was still processing the events.

She sucked in a deep, calm breath and repeated. "Y…you…your majesty...my…my most sincere apologies." She finally finished but crossed her arms in front of her chest defiantly, averting her gaze and then added more quietly, "I had no idea."

Her reaction then was somehow a bit disappointing but understandable given the circumstances. Van continued to be amused nonetheless.

He sighed and took a step closer to her, completely ignoring the fact that he was still shirtless in this establishment with very large windows. What she had settled on saying was betraying what she felt on the inside. Of course, she had every right to be angry after he had forced himself upon her out of the blue. Future king or not, such a behavior was unacceptable and it was only due to a momentary lapse in judgment that he had allowed himself to act in such a despicable way.

"No," he finally sighed a bit regretfully. "It's me who should apologize. Please forgive me. I was…only trying to escape the palace to spend an hour by myself. I've spent every day since returning from beyond the wall in my bed, being treated like some gravely wounded invalid. Next week, I'm supposed to be shouldering the burdens of an entire country…and all I wanted was a cup of coffee."

Why was he suddenly saying all those things, trying to justify himself in front of this woman? Why was he pouring his heart out to her? What nonsense was he blabbering? She finally looked back at him again with an expression he hadn't expected from her. Pity.

This time it was him who almost recoiled in shock when Hitomi's gentle hand reached out for him. With a feather-light touch, she grazed his offended cheek, about to reply when her words were cut short.

The small bell above the door chimed violently as it opened. Only one individual Van knew could open a door with such panache. "Lord Van." His sword master's deep voice boomed across the small room.

Van's shoulders slumped when Hitomi's hand immediately pulled away from his face. She latched the other one onto it and began to knead them awkwardly.

"You have had the whole palace going wild for the past hour. Everybody is looking for you." Balgus said in a calm but tense voice. His intimidating appearance doubtlessly was the reason for Hitomi's new, fearful facial expression.

Van rubbed the bridge of his nose before replying. " I know. Please give everybody my apologies."

It took a bit of convincing to ease Balgus' mind and Van had a feeling that the man was making it difficult on purpose to make up for the troubles he had caused with his disappearance. No, Hitomi had certainly not harmed him. She had merely taken care of his wound after he had carelessly overexerted himself while out and about. It had been solely his fault for putting a strain on it which had caused some of the stitches to loosen.

A month later, king Van Slanzar de Fanel rested his forehead against the heavy doors of his chamber. Finally a moment of peace on this otherwise busy afternoon. It was as if everybody had done a complete 180 on him in the weeks following his coronation. Nobody lectured him anymore but instead offered council with bowed heads, seemingly bending to his every wish. It was fake, frustrating, and fodder for fury deep inside. Then he remembered something.

A small smile tugged on his lips when that particular thought came to mind. His fingers were still wrapped around the door handle of his chambers but before re-opening it and slipping out, the king hurried over to his dresser to find his favorite shades while raking a hand through his hair in an attempt to mess it up as well as possible. Somebody still owed him a coffee…

Tbc...

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If you liked this, wander on over to FFN where I have published some more Escaflowne fanfiction.

[lubdubsworld]

The Lake house ( Namjin)

Read Chapter one here 

chapter 2

“i’ll probably be really busy for the next few weeks, hyung. the conference is being re scheduled to an earlier date and i really want to double check all of my data.... ” Namjoon said briskly,  as he bit into his toast. 

“sure, joon ah.. i’m busy with the house anyway.” Jin said with a smile, pouring him a glass of water and walking away. 

“I’ll give you my lab number anyway...just in case, you can call me if you need anything. Is Hobi coming to check up on you?” 

 Probably sometime this week....” Jin hummed, moving to carry the last box of clothes from the small storage space, just below the stairs and then maneuvering himself to Taehyung’s bedroom. He placed the box on the bed, grabbing the box-cutter to slice through the tape, opening the flaps and staring down at the neatly folded clothes.

sighing, he moved to the small, enamel closet on the side, pulling open the draws and slowly moving the clothes from the box to the dresser. he stopped short when his eyes fell on a familiar article of clothing, faded and slightly worn out but the words still clear. Heart clenching, he grabbed the sweatshirt and pressed it close to his chest, bending low to breath in the scent of it. 

It still smelled faintly like Tae, and the first sting of tears threatened. He missed his baby so much. Tae had always been an affectionate kid, physically so and Seokjin had been the recipient of almost 90% of the hugs , kisses and cuddles that his boy wanted to give out to the world. He remembered beinbg wrapped around Taehyung even when he was far too old to be curling into jin’s lap or hanging off his back. 

But Jin knew how much Tae depended on him, how insecure his social son really was , how easily the world could overwhelm him and how important kit was for him to find some peace in jin’s arms , every night before bed. 

Sighing, Jin moved to place the shirt back inside, only to accidentally knock over the small cardboard box on the side. A leather bound scrap book fell out, along with paper cuttings and polaroids and jin swore, kneeling down to pick it all up. He had to organize this. 

From somewhere in the house, Namjoon called out that he was leaving, and Jin screamed out a , “ Have a nice day honey!” before grabbing the scrap book and moving to the door. He walked slowly to the patio, to the small bit of lawn with the painted white chairs and the small table and he sat down carefully on the wooden slat of the chair, fingers shaking as he opened the scrapbook. 

They were mostly pictures of him and Tae, right from when Tae was a two year old, to when he’d grown up, enough to wear Jin’s sweatshirt. A small snap of him, hugging jin as Namjoon stood awkwardly to the side. Another of Tae and Namjoon and the hero worship is eveident even through the photograph. Jin smiled a little, turning another pag and stopping at the wedding shot of him and Namjoon. He looked so young and carefree here, it was almost surreal. 

He stopped short, staring at the photo of him performing in their college concert hall. He had wanted to pursue his acting career, it was what he had gone to university for , anyway. But somewhere along the line, he had just exchanged that dream for another one. 

He stared at a few more photos, ones with Hoseok, his best friend . Another with Kihyun, who had been a fellow theatre major in SNU. 

And then his eyes fell on the polaroid of the car.

Jin felt the breath get punched out of his lung as he stared at the mangled remains of what had been their first car, the hood crumpled, windshield shattered and the door beat into a curve. The steering wheel looked like it was stained with blood, which it probably had been. 

His blood. 

His throat went dry. 

it had been a year. He still didn’t remember much of that accident, or how he had managed to total the car with zero alcohol in his system. sighing, he turned another page. it was a newspaper clipping of Namjoon being awarded for his work, the Jeguk Award for Excellence in the field of Research. 

 Jin smoothed out the newspaper clipping. it was so important to Namjoon. He should put it in a frame. in fact, he was going to do just that. Jin placed the scrapbook back in the box and moved nack inside. it took him a few minutes to find an empty phot frame, dusting it clean before putting the clipping inside the frame, he placed it on the table again and that was when he heard it. 

The faint sound of a child crying. 

He stopped, confused and a little disoriented. it seemed to be coming from the other side of the wooden fence that ran along the edge of their property. He stared out of the window and felt foreboding. did he really want to go check that out.

But the sound grew a little louder and he realized it wasn’t really a child. it was a young boy. or man .... whatever. 

Swallowing, he moved to the patio door, stepping out and slowly making his way to the sound.

“Hello...” what name had Namjoon said last night? “ Jung... Jung Kook ssi?” He said tentatively, pressing close to the wooden slats of the fence, wet from the rain and slightly rotting. 

the crying stopped , fading to little sobs and he could hear someone walking closer to the fence. 

A small gap in the fence showed him a garden much like their own... and he stumbled on the wet earth of the flower bed, the edge of a rose bush scratching his forearm as he tried to grip the fence and lever himself, enough to peer over it and see the distraught young man. 

But before he could, a watery eye appeared in the gap and jin screamed , stumbling back in surprise, heart pounding. 

“How... How did you know my name...?” the boy sobbed out, suspicion lacing his tone and Jin swallowed. He couldn’t see the boy’s face but he sounded painfully young. 

“I’m sorry... my husband... he told me... are you okay, Jung Kook?” He tried again and the boy cried some more.

“i just... i can’t take it anymore.... he’s just so...i’m so afraid..... ”

Jin felt his heart beating erratically

Who? who was he afraid of..? Was he talking about his husband? Min Yoongi wasn’t it?

“Do you need to talk about it, jung Kook... i can bring some tea and...”

“i don’t even know you!!” Jung Kook said shakily....

“I know.. i’m sorry... I just... you sound so upset.... “

“oh, God!! He’s coming back.. please forget i ever said anything!!” The boy was scarmbling away and jin finally manged to look over the fence only to catch a glimpse of the boy ( man really ) running away to the door. A minute later, Jin ducked down ina  panic, the sound of a car telling him that the other man, had arrived. he watched, as yoongi climbed out of the car, carrying some tarp and a rope, eyes set hard in his face. Jin felt his heart pound as the shorter man stepped into the house slamming the door shut. 

He sank to the floor, worried and scared. What had he just witnessed? why was jung kook so scared?? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You should have heard him, joon ah... He just... He sounded terrified.” Jin said with a shake of his head, cutting into his asparagus with trembling fingers. 

“Terrified of what?”

“i don’t know.. his husband.... i think...”

“did he actually say that...?” 

“No... more or less... i just think we should go there and...”

“Jin we can’t just walk up to the neighbors and accuse one of them of....”

“i know... i know... it’s just he was so scared and...”

“And they’ve been keeping us up, every night with their sexual olympics so i doubt he’s  that  scared of him...”

“But Namjoon...”

“Hyung.” Namjoon’s tone went stern and jin stopped, biting his lips. “ People fight... People argue. It’s not our business...” He said firmly and Jin deflated, feeling foolish. Namjoon had a way of making him feel not so bright and he hated it. 

“Fine.” He stood up abruptly, moving away and Namjoon sighed.

“i need to work late tonight...”

“i know.” Jin snapped, peeved. 

Still frowning, Namjoon moved closer to kim and stroked the back of his head. 

“Okay. I’ll try to talk to one of the guys in the forensic department of our college, see if he can pull up any info on this guy....” He said in defeat and Jin stared at him evenly.

“You promise?” He said softly.

“Only if  you  promise that you won’t go barging into their home accusing him of domestic abuse or something...”

Jin hummed and kissed him.

“thank you,  joonie...” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Jin woke up early, digging out a new wicker basket, one that he’d bought at a small fishing village a few miles down river from Seoul. He lined the isde with felt, baked a dozen cream buns and placed a bottle of wine inside as well. He then tied some frivolous ribbons around the handle, wore his favorite hoodie and skinny jeans, brushed his blond hair into a floof and walked over to Yoongi and jung Kook’s place. 

The basket was a gift a welcome to the neighborhood sort of thing which would also serve as an excuse for him to meet jung Kook. But the moment he stepped in through the gates, he knew that no one was home. The place looked deserted and he sighed, moving to knowck on the door, stopping when he saw how empty it looked. A small box stood outside with , ‘ jung kook’s summer clothes ‘ scribbled with a black sharpie and he smiled a little. Still curious, he walked around the patio that ran all around the house, turning one corner and stopping short when he saw something, right in the middle of the deck. 

it was a white sneaker, the kind a colleg kid would wear. Jin went closer, picked it up , staring at the huge stain right in the middle.

Blood. 

Shaking a bit, he carefully placed the shoe inside his basket, heart hammering as he picked his way back to the gate and then to the pathway that would lead him back home. His head was still swimming with questions, when he caught sight of a familiar figure near the doorway, and he called out.

“Hey! This is private grounds! What do you think you’re doing kid!!! ” He shouted. 

Hoseok turned around and his face broke out into a grin.

“Waiting for my favorite hyung....” He called back and jin laughed moving closer and hugging him.

“What is this?” Hoseok pointed at the basket and jin sighed. 

“Just a welcome home thing for the new neighbours...” He said vaguely and Hoseok nodded.

“They’re not home, then?” 

Jin sighed glancing back at the fence , to the spot where he’d seen Jung Kook’s terrified eyes. 

“i guess not...” He said softly, trying to quell the worry in his gut. 

 hoseok smiled fondly.

“You’re so good at all this hyung...”

“if i was...i would have done it a long time ago...” jin said softly,” Are you staying for a while?” 

Hoseok shook his head.

“No...i’m just stopping by, wanted to see how you were holding up...?” He said softly. 

“I’m fine...” Jin rolled his eyes, breaking away to move to the patio. 

“Are you sure..?” Hoseok followed him, his eyes heavy with concerjn and Jin sighed. 

“why does everyone find it so hard to believe that?” He said in exasperation and Hoseok shrugged. 

“ Because it’s been a huge year hyung... the house, the renovation and now you’re sweet young boy, who you’re really attached to , just went away to college and.... “

“and i totalled a car....” Jin grimaced.

“A minor setback...” Hoseok said quickly.

“Well... fine... i’m a little tender...” He admitted finally and Hoseok wrapped an arm around him. 

“You’re only human, hyung...”

“And Namjoon thinks I’m going crazy....” He muttered with a little laugh and Hoseok hummed.

“He was pretty shaken up after the accident.” 

Jin nodded.

“i know... i know.. but i’ve pulled myself together after that... right?” He said helplessly and Hoseok smiled, hugging him close.

“Of course hyung. i’m so proud of you.” 

And jin hung on just a little longer than necessary because Hoseok was so warm and he felt like he was always so cold in this place. 

[good4olivia]

I’m over hurting because of you

Boy: Jay

Summary: Jay broke up with the reader through a letter before he left for Aurodon. Now the reader’s back and she isn’t too happy with his relationship with Lonnie. Reader is Queen of Heart’s daughter.

Warnings: Angst.

A/N: don’t forget to send in request!!

masterlist

You breathed in the fresh air on Aurodon as you stepped out of the limo that brought you here. You were invited to Aurodon with the sea three along with Dizzy. You didn’t really know the four before being forced into a limo ride with them though that didn’t stop Harry from shamelessly flirting with you.

Ben introduced himself and Mal along side him. Her and Uma shared a awaked hug whilst she just smiled warmly at the rest of you. Following Ben’s tour of the school you were shown to your dorm room. You were bunking with Uma. Five seconds into sharing a room with her and she’s already picked her side of the room and started doing things her way.

“So are you going to see Jay?” Uma asked you whilst she unpacked.

“Oh, um yeah. I’m just scared, you know?” You said sitting down on your bed also unpacking. It was true, you were very nervous at seeing your ex-boyfriend. You didn’t know if you should be mad at him or happy to see him. After all he did break up with you in a letter.

“You need to go give him a piece of your mind after what he did to you.” Uma stated.

“And how do you know what he did to me? We literally met two hours ago.” You laughed.

“Word gets around and look, I want us to be friends okay? I know we didn’t know each other before and considering that most of the stuff here is separated by gender it is very inconvenientd when your only two friends are boys.” She explained, “And I know your friends with Mal and Evie but I’m hoping you’ll give me the benefit of the doubt?”

“Yes, of course. I would like to be your friend too. “ You smiled, “But you’re right. I’m going to go see Jay. See you later, Uma!” You said and she just wished you good luck as you exited the room.

It wasn’t hard to find Jay. You just asked around and found out that after fencing practice he has his lunch at the park. You felt your nerves bottle up inside you when you laid eyes on him. You started walking over there when you saw a girl with medium brown hair in the same uniform as him, sit by him and kiss him.

Your blood boiled inside of you. Mal inherited magic and Evie inherited a magic mirror, you inherited anger issues being the Queen of Heart’s daughter. What was going to be a walk turned into a march as you stomped your way over to the pair.

“Hello Jay, miss me? Clearly not.” You snarled looking down at them. Jay’s eyes were practically falling out of their sockets and the girl looked scared out of her mind.

“Y/N, Evie told me you were coming.” He said as he stood up to meet you.

“Yet, you made no effort to find me.” You said, crossing your arms.

“I understand your mad at me, Y/N. Can we talk?” He asked you.

“Talk? I thought you preferred letters.” You said.

“Um, who are you?” The girl finally spoke.

“You didn’t even care enough about me to tell your new girlfriend about me.” You said to Jay before moving your gaze to the girl, “I’m Y/N. Jay’s ex. Who he dumped in a letter before fleeing here.” You recounted. “And you are?”

“Lonnie. My mum’s Mulan.” She stated and you just rolled your eyes.

“And I care who your mum is because….?”

“Hey! I get your mad at me but you don’t have to take it out her!” Jay defended Lonnie and he pretend he didn’t see the hurt in your eyes.

“Let’s talk then.” You said. He nodded and turned to kiss lonnie’s cheek before following you down the hill.

“Y/N-“ Jay started off,

“You left me!” You cried out, “How could you do that? Just write me a quick letter and leave. Like I meant nothing too you, which I clearly do.”

“Of course you mean something to me. You were my first love, I will always love you.” Jay told you.

“Oh save it Jay. You know for the son of Jarfar you’re a real fucking coward. You couldn’t even look me in the eyes to break up with me, you wrote a stupid ass letter. Which I burned by the way and I used the flames it created to burn down the reminder of your things.” You told him, zero shame for what you did out of anger.

Jay grabbed your hands in his, “Y/N. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” He smiled at bit and you hate that he was smiling cause everytime he smiled at you you had no choice but to smile back.

“Stop, I’m meant to be mad at you. And I am mad at you.” You said, pulling your hands away from him.

“I don’t want you to hate me, I hope we can be friends.” He offered.

You scoffed, “Friends? Never in a million years will I be ‘just friends’ with you Jay. And for a second I will stop acting like the heartless bitch I want everyone to think I am and tell you this; I missed you so so much while you were gone and I hated you and I hated that I missed you but I did and I’m not over you yet and I’m not going to sit around and watch you be with her. You have put me through too much pain and I’m over it. I’m over hurting because of you. “ You confessed before walking back up the hill.

You didn’t want him to see you cry so you didn’t look back as you walked away. Only if you did, you would see he was holding back his tears as well. He missed you so much and he wanted the chance to tell you how much, how much he could take it all back. That he only recently starting dating Lonnie when he thought he’d never see you again but he knew how much he had hurt you and he knew what was best for you was to be away from him.

Two weeks passed and you haven’t spoken to Jay since the day you arrived. You see him around school every now and then but you avoid him as much as possible. You and Uma did end up becoming good friends while you did keep up your friendship with Mal and Evie but it was hard considering they were always hanging out with Jay so you gravitated towards having out with Uma’s friends more.

Harry still flirts with you and asks you out constantly though you keep rejecting him, not ready to start a new relationship after Jay.  

“Come on baby, I know you still have feelings for that prick but I can help you move on from him and I can help you show him what he’s missing out on.” Harry persuaded you running his hook along your neck.

“Then I feel like I’m using you.” You told him. Over the last two weeks you had started caring about Harry and you wanted to start you realtionship off the right way.

“It’s not bad if I’m letting you use me.” He smirked.

“Okay. Let’s go out. Tonight, 7?” You gave into him finally.

“Eager are we?” He teased, “But yes. I’ll pick you up then.”

So far your date with Harry was amazing and for the first time in a long time your mind was elsewhere but Jay. That was until he showed up at the same restaurant with Lonnie on his arms.

“Just ignore him babe.” Harry told you. You nodded and continued your conversation with him. Though that was until Jay and Lonnie sat down at the table beside you. You wanted to go on with your evening without speaking to him but Jay had other plans.

“Y/N?” He said.

“Obviously.” Harry said under his breath. Annoyed by Jay interrupting his time with you.  

“I didn’t know you two were dating.” He said and you could tell by his voice that it bothered him though he tried to act like he didn’t care.

“This is our first date.” You told him and he nodded and left you alone after that. Though you could still feel his eyes on you throughout your time with Harry.

As you and Harry paid the bill together, you stood up. “Take care, Jay.” You said to him smiling sincerely at him before walking off with Harry, his hooked hand on the small of your back as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“You still love her.” Lonnie stated as she watched Jay watch them.

“I-I, It’s complicated. I just know Harry, he’s bad for her.” He said trying to make a excuse for his still obvious feelings for her.

“You need to let her go. You clearly hurt her a lot and she’s finally moving on. You should let her have that.” Lonnie told him and he nodded in agreement though he still wasn’t happy that you were with someone else.  

Jay was running laps around the filed when he saw you and Harry walk hand in hand towards the school. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Harry start kissing you. He would’ve left it at that but then Harry had to grab your ass and that was enough for him to walk up you guys and punch Harry in the face.

“Jay! What the bloody hell has gotten into you?!” You screamed, helping Harry up, who you always had to hold back from using his hook.

“I-I don’t know. I’m going to go.” Jay said, spaced out before running away. You told Harry you had to go talk him before following Jay.

“Jay, wait up!” You yelled and he stopped and turned around to face you.

“Look, I’m sorry for punching Harry.” He apologised.

“Why did you do it? It’s not like you want to be with me anymore.” You stated.

“But I do!” Jay confessed and you didn’t know what to say, “I missed you so much while I was gone and all I wanted was to be with you again!”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you say anything? If you had told me this two weeks ago, things would be different.” You told him.

“I thought it was best for you to have distant for me.” He said.

“And who are you to decided what’s good for me and what’s not?” You replied, “And what bout Lonnie?”

“I care about her of course and I don’t want to hurt her at all. But I only started dating her when I realised I would never see you again.” He said.

You threw your hands on your face and sat down and he sat down next to you. “I don’t want to say, Jay. I can’t hurt Harry. You can’t hurt Lonnie.”

“So does that mean, were just going to be unhappy forever? Because there is never going to be a day that I don’t want to be with you.” He told you.

“I’m always going to love you, Jay. But I think are time has passed. I really wish things were different but there not and it’s time we accept that.” You replied standing up and walking away but you stopped and walked back to him and kissed him and he immediately kissed you back, wrapping his arm around you.

Once you parted, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that with you again.” He smiled and pulled you into his chest and held you close. You clung to him, feeling guilty as all hell.