#mean-nice woman whose touch is probably making him regret all the bad things he's done in his life and wants to settle down

[dukeoftheblackstar]

Nothing felt peculiar within every fiber of his body, apart from this sudden rebirth. He felt no change in his anatomical build nor the essence that reside within him; whether it was the native soul that had dwelled within since birth to death, or something of a higher power that allowed him to retain this new life.

Silently watching the intricate weave upon his now sheathed and tended wound, nothing seeped through his veins that would assuage the pain, let alone heal the wound entirely. It was an odd discovery as it is a feeling since he could sense that his yōkai remains unchanged. Within him lay, albeit immense, fleeting power. He was a still a dog demon, without a fraction of a doubt, but he knew that should he test this theory, he'd be depleting his source of protection should it deplete his power greatly.

"That maybe so, priestess." He replies, a squint and a wince as the knot secured the bondage. "Those of my time will not hesitate to rid you of this world." And it was true indeed. Not more was needed to be said as generations upon generations would pour themselves into the succeeding heirs to strengthen their power and reign. It will not be by the reason of his return to inflict havoc in these times.

As if on command by the shift of palette in the skies, Tōga swiftly takes hold of the priestess by the small of her back, pulling her onto his side with a secured clasp, mindful of his claws. At a second's pace, he leaps from the ground, branch to branch eluding twigs astray; rock to boulder, plains to fields of grass, and with speed and surface tension to match, over pools of water in sporadic patterns.

The last thing the daiyoukai needed was scavengers who had taken his prolonged stay upon waking to trail behind them in lieu of a brewing ambush.

They arrived at the spoken village; barren and rundown from what appears to have been raided not too recently. He examined the scene, almost lost at the thought that not much has changed. How long have I been gone exactly?

Once more in a state of wonder and perhaps mild frustration from all the unanswered uncertainties, a displeased growl vibrated from the daiyoukai's maw as he kept his hold on the priestess, almost embracing her with arm quite protectively.

dukeoftheblackstar​:

“Then forgive my presumptuous inquiry, Lady Kikyo.” Though history had built a legacy of reverence and fear among those who wish to take the life of the honorable ruler himself, Tōga is quite synonymous to humility. A great leader knows his place among the stars after all. He offered a quaint bow before tossing his hand with a quick shake to mark the ground with droplets of blood.

“I’m afraid recollection fails me at this time.” For the life of him, or at least the beginning of his unexpected return, he had pondered for quite sometime from where he stood. What was it that had awaken him from the eternal slumber of death? There were no voices that called upon him nor will there be one worthy enough to disturb him. Neither his sons would bother seeing as they had obtained what use he has for them and are probably in their own respective busied paths.

The thought of Sesshoumaru and InuYasha merits a smirk fit for nostalgia and fatherhood. Proud fatherhood.

He turns to Kikyo, tone rather warm and non-threatening. “Is it not a priestess’ duty to tend to the injured and fallen?” Bearing the cut and bloody palm to her, he tilts his head almost in a very familiar manner that the priestess would have undoubtedly able to notice. “I am but with armor and nothing else to my name but the scent that would draw danger and death. If I am brought to this time once more, I am sure those who had fallen for a greater purpose than I will have no qualms in reclaiming this land.”

The thought perturbed him. Clearly, he was none too special to be brought back from the land of the dead alone. Something is afoot.

“I am Lord T—” He pauses, taking his unbloodied spare to his chest with a nod. “I am Tōga. Should you permit, I will allow no harm to befall you in my time of recovery. I am in need of your servi—-help. ”

🏹 “Why yes..but to my knowledge and experience, demons heal rather quickly.” In fact, the self inflicted injury should have healed already unless..he was not granted a demon’s body..He certainly bled so he was not composed of clay. Or was he purposefully delaying his body from being healed? If it was the latter, for what purpose? It was certainly a little odd. However, demon or not, she did not discriminate in who she helped. Once someone was in need of assistance, she lend them aid.

Slender hands delved into her sleeve and procured a spare cloth ribbon. As she listened, the miko approached the demon without hesitation and immediately reach forward to bandage it. “If it does not heal by the time we find shelter, then I will clean it and reassess the injury.” In her response, Kikyou provided her answer to his request. She could not leave him wandering in confusion. Yes he was a formidable demon..But she remembered well..what it was like to be brought back..Perhaps with some time, he will be fine on his own. In the interim, the miko could do some investigation and alert his sons..particularly Inuyasha. If Toga was back in his original body and scent, undoubtedly Sesshomaru would appear at some point to validate what his nose had detected. It simply was a waiting game.

“Thank you for the offer, Toga. However, I do not need the protection of others. As for yourself, I will do what I can to look into your return and why, in addition to reuniting you with your sons.”, she replied, dropping her hands once his hand was successfully bandaged.

“As it is growing late, it may be wise to seek shelter. There is an abandoned village nearby–its occupants having long moved to another location. We can take refuge there for the time being.”

[floralguccistyles]

Long time no post! Things in my life have been crazy, from health problems with both myself and family members, to the deaths of both my grandpa and my cat, and work/school has been insane. I hope y’all forgive me and I hope this makes up for it. Let me know what you think!

wildflower :: chapter three

...and brings you flowers

Considering my morning started with having to deal with a customer whose key card didn’t work to get into their room, I could assume today was going to be a rough day. 

Things only continued to spiral downhill when I had finished getting the key card situation handled only to walk into the kitchen and find the coffee machine was broken. One of the chefs jokingly told me to make myself a cup of tea, but I think he got a little scared when my lower lip jutted out and started wobbling in frustration. I wasn’t going to cry, but that didn’t mean the tears wouldn’t stubbornly well up behind my eyes. 

If that wasn’t enough, on my break I had stubbed my toe on the corner coming around from checking up on one of the rooms. I had sworn very, very loudly in front of a family of four with two kids under twelve and the parents had glared at me. I hoped they had the decency to see that I was having a bad day and wouldn’t tell my supervisor. 

All I wanted to do was curl up in bed with a good book, a rom-com playing in the background, and maybe some soup. 

My day was only made worse when I saw Violet walking through the lobby doors as I was leaving. 

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, letting out a huff of irritated breath. She had her book bag thrown over her shoulder, holding onto the strap on her shoulder so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t break. “What’re you doing here?” I asked in a whisper, not wanting my boss to hear me talking to anyone the way I was talking to Violet. Unfortunately, my boss Clara was an only child and wouldn’t understand the sister love-hate bond Violet and I had. 

“Nice to see you too.” Violet looked frustratingly put together, as she always did. She had definitely sucked up the good looks that had obviously skipped the poor middle child (me). Her long hair was curled delicately and though she didn’t wear much makeup, she had never needed it. She had eyelashes models would kill for. “I was wondering if we could go get coffee or something.”

“Coffee? We don’t do coffee.”

“Christ, Rose, is it really that much of an inconvenience to hang out with your sister?” she asked incredulously, rolling her eyes at my reluctance. “I thought we could talk, hang out, get some coffee out of it. It’s not the end of the world.”

I had obviously done something to piss off whatever higher being existed because the icing on the cake to my terrible day was dealing with Violet’s snark. To simply stop her from complaining (because she was world-class at it), I sighed. “Fine. But you’re buying.”

“You’re the one with the full-time job!”

“Do you want to get coffee or not?”

“I’m regretting my choice now,” Violet said simply, but gestured towards the door of the building. She had an old car Niall had actually helped her find when she had started college, so we piled into it. I didn’t know what coffee place she was taking us to, but I decided I didn’t care. I hadn’t had any coffee this morning, and I was in desperate need. Plus, if Violet had a hundred dollars to make on the bet with Lily and Niall, she had enough money to buy me a four dollar cup of coffee.

She pulled into a little coffee house that was close to the campus Niall worked at. I wondered briefly if he frequented it when he worked. When we walked in, the smell of coffee beans hit my nose and gave me a small reprieve from the terrible day. “What do you want? Their caramel stuff is really good.”

“Whatever you get is fine.” Though Violet had questionable taste in most things, her taste in coffee was impeccable. She nodded and walked to the bar to order while I found us a place to sit, close to the window in case I needed to zone out and have something pretty to look at if Violet got too annoying. When she returned, she set my coffee in front of me and took a seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor and making the both of us wince. I took a small sip of the coffee (something caramel, as she had suggested) and instantly felt ten times better. “This is the only good thing to happen to me all day.”

Violet rolled her eyes, mumbled something about me being overdramatic underneath her breath. “Lily thinks I need to apologize.”

“I think so too.”

“I don’t.”

I gestured to the coffee shop. “Then what’s the point of this?”

“You bit my head off when I was trying to explain last time. I was hoping you’d sit and actually have a civil conversation with me about things.” When I didn’t respond, just gestured for her to continue, she did. “I didn’t get you the psychologist’s number because I think you’re pathetic or that you can’t handle shit. I got it for you because no woman should ever be propositioned for sex and it’s absolutely disgusting that the prick tried to do some sort of quid-pro-quo and got nothing more than a slap on the wrist. And if I’m feeling that, as a third party, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling about it. So I got you her number in case you wanted to talk.”

“But you didn’t ask me beforehand. You went behind my back.”

“Because that’s what people do when they care about you, Rose!” Violet exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Christ, if I thought it would be this much work, I would have just saved myself the trouble. I just think it’s shitty he’s getting away with it, so I thought maybe you’d want to talk to someone. It’s not a problem that you can’t sleep without someone there, but don’t you think you need to analyze why? Especially because you never had a problem with it before. And you’re still paying too much money for rent in a flat you don’t even live in anymore.”

There was no point in arguing with her because she, frustratingly, wasn’t wrong. It was shitty that Kent was getting away with it and I probably was stupid for paying money for an apartment I wasn’t staying in. But I had gotten that trademark Fairbrough stubbornness, and I wanted to handle things my own way, as I had always done in my life.

“I appreciate it and can understand where you were coming from.” The words felt like lead on my tongue because I was a prideful person. “But I honestly don’t think I need to talk to someone. If I do think I need help, you’ll be the first person I’ll call.”

“We both know that’s a lie. You’d sooner call Lily or Niall before you’d call me,” she replied in a snarky voice, taking a sip of her latte and staring out the window.

I didn’t bother correcting her. 

“Look,” she said after a couple of moments, all of which were spent sipping at our drinks and not talking to one another, “will you just take the card? You don’t have to do anything with it, but it’ll make me feel better if you just take it.”

“Fine. But only because you bought me coffee.”

When I returned home to Lily’s flat, the psychologist’s number in my bag, I toed off my shoes and flung myself onto the couch. I wouldn’t nap because then sleeping tonight would be even more difficult, but I did just close my eyes and rest there for several moments while the bad day crashed over me. Distantly, I heard the sound of Lily’s front door swinging open and groaned out to her, letting her know I was on the couch.

“Rosebud, you okay?”

I turned my body around at Niall’s voice, nodding my head slightly. “Hi, Niall. Where’s Lily?”

“One of her clients called. They’ve got to meet her at the prison.” He moved my feet, sliding his body underneath before he deposited them back on his lap. 

“I had the worst day,” I answered his question a little late, sighing out as he gave me sympathetic eyes. “I think I might meet with my landlord next week. My lease is up next month and...I mean, I’m basically living here. I just don’t know if I want to let it go yet. It was the first apartment I rented on my own. And I don’t know if Lily wants me around forever…”

“Lily will let you stay with her as long as you need, you know that.” He reached forward and started massaging my calf, causing me to close my eyes sleepily underneath his touch. “Why was your day bad?”

“People at work. Then the coffee machine was broken. Then Violet came in.”

He laughed, but it was faraway. I was slipping into unconsciousness, and I knew if Niall didn’t stop massaging my leg, I was going to drift off. “You’ve got to stop,” I told him, pulling one of my legs away to poke him with my toe.

His hands hesitantly left my other leg. “Why? Uncomfortable?”

“Too comfortable,” I corrected, shaking my head. “I don’t want to nap and have a shitty night of sleep tonight.

“Just nap, Rosebud. You look like you need it. Do you work tomorrow?”

I shook my head, because thankfully I had tomorrow off. 

“Then, c’mon.” He moved my feet again and stood up, holding out a hand for me to take. I groggily grabbed it in my own, allowing him to pull me to my feet and lead me to my room. I flopped myself onto my bed and smiled as he tucked me in, patting down the blankets so they would stay put. It was only when I was underneath my covers that I realized how much the day had taken out of me. Any morning without coffee always exhausted me, but meeting with Violet had just done me in.

“How was your day?” I asked sleepily, reaching out and lacing our fingers together. He squeezed my fingers. “Are you feeling a little better from the sexual assault situation?”

He sighed. “I’m never going to feel good about it, Rosebud. The fact that any of my athletes could do that to someone...it tore me up inside.”

I decided Niall needed a nap almost as much as I did. I patted the spot next to me, inviting him to rest with me on the other side of my bed. He sent me a small smile, pushing off his shoes from his feet and lowering himself onto my bed, over the covers since he didn’t get nearly as cold as I did. 

“Rest with me,” I requested softly. “We could both use the sleep.”

He stared at me for a few seconds. “You’re one of a kind, Rosebud.”

I smiled, snuggling closer to him. His arm came around to rest on my waist, pulling me closer to him until my skin was pressed against his skin.

We must have only napped for an hour or so, but I woke up before Niall did. He was knocked out onto my lavender pillow, a tiny bit of drool sneaking out of his open mouth. At least he didn’t snore as much as I apparently did. His entire body was curled, crunched up like even in sleep, his tension wouldn’t leave him. I realized when I stretched that our legs were slightly tangled together, his hand still on my waist. My skin was warm where his fingers touched.

Niall was truly, unfairly attractive. Now that I could look at him without the awkwardness of him realizing I was staring, I could easily admit that to myself. I had always known Niall was a handsome guy, but he was always unattainable. He was Lily’s. I had no business thinking he was attractive.

But his brown hair was fluffed on the right side where it pressed against my pillow, and he had an adorable sleeping face and I admitted to myself right then and there that Niall Horan was beautiful. The fact that he basically belonged to Lily didn’t change that, and it probably never would. 

“Stop staring at me,” he said softly, his lips curling up at the corners.

I jumped, not expecting his voice since I still believed he was in the middle of sleeping. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that. How’d you know I was staring?”

“I felt in my soul that there was a pair of beautiful big brown eyes on me, and look at that,” he said, opening his own beautiful big eyes and grinning, “I was right.”

“You’re full of shit, is what you are.” But I found myself leaning back down on my bed and quietly taking in the silence with him. Silence was never uncomfortable with Niall like it was with other people. “Thanks for napping with me.”

“Hopefully it made your bad day a little better.”

“It did.”

My phone buzzed on the nightstand and I sleepily reached for it, reading the text from Lily.

Getting dinner with Carmen. We’ve both had a shitty day and have to discuss some things about the case. Feel free to use anything in the fridge for dinner tonight!

“Want to go get some food?” I asked Niall, showing him the text from Lily. 

“Sure. I can go pick up some Nando’s, if you want.”

I groaned, leaning my head into his shoulder. “You are my knight in shining armor. The wind beneath my wings. An angel among us mere mortals.”

“You’re more dramatic than usual today. The chicken pita like usual?” He stood from the bed, readjusting his shirt that had been slightly wrinkled in our nap. As he ran his hands through his hair, I found myself distracted by his forearms, which were showcased by the rolled-up sleeves he was sporting. I’d never really noticed Niall’s arms before, but they were as gorgeous as the rest of him.

Had I mentioned how unfairly beautiful he was?

“Yes, please. I think I have some soda and ice cream. I can make us some floats?”

“You’ve got root beer?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I think so?”

He laughed at my uncertainty, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. “Alright. I’ll call in and go grab it really quick. See you in about thirty.”

“Thanks, Niall!”

“Anything for my Rosebud.”

I took the time he was gone to tidy up around the apartment a little. I wasn’t a messy person by any means, but with my bad day, I had left a little trail of Rose-messes on the couch and in the foyer, where I had deposited my shoes without a care in the world. The last thing I wanted was for Lily to come home and see my mess and decide she didn’t want me living with her. It was bad enough I still hadn’t found the necklace she had given me. Niall had scoured his place trying to find it, so I wondered if I had drunkenly taken it off at the bar that night with Niamh and Pat. Leaving her apartment a mess just felt like another strike against me. 

Niall returned about forty minutes later, ringing the doorbell because his hands were full of food. He grinned as I opened the door, reaching out his arm to hand me the food in the Nando’s bags. It was only after I had the food in my arms that I realized he was carrying another bag.

“What’d you get?” I asked, kicking the door shut with my foot as soon as he walked into the apartment. I set the food on the counter and got my phone out. “How much do I owe you? I can Venmo.”

“Put your fucking phone away,” he said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “I got you something.”

His hand dipped into the bag at his side and pulled out something green and leafy. It looked like flowers, but I couldn’t see any blooms. However, when he handed them to me, I could suddenly see the tiny little buds at the end of some of the stems. “Rose buds for my Rosebud!” he exclaimed happily. “I know you were having a bad day, so I thought—oof!”

His breath left his body when I crashed into him, hugging him around the waist so tightly I thought I might pop him like a balloon. I was embarrassed to feel tears well up in my eyes at the sweet gesture, but the truth was, he had already made my day ten times better just by hanging around. And no boy had ever bought me flowers before. 

“Don’t cry,” he said when he pulled away, giving me a smile and wiping underneath my eye with his thumb. “They were supposed to make you smile.”

“You’re just…” I trailed off, unable to find the words to perfectly describe the boy in front of me. “You are everything,” I decided, pulling him back into my arms, content to just hold him there for a little longer.

He chuckled, his breath stirring the hairs on my head. I felt him squeeze my shoulders, reminding me that this was real and he was here. “Not everything,” he argued softly, “just someone who cares about you.”

~

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

I nodded towards Niamh, who was currently freezing her ass off outside of my apartment. We had met up with my landlord to discuss me not living there when my lease was up. However, every time I thought about giving up my own little apartment, the first big purchase I had made as a working adult...it filled me with dread.

“You know you’re welcome to stay with me for free, Rose,” Lily added. She had found out Niamh planned to accompany me and had invited herself. It wasn’t a problem, since Niamh and Lily got along fairly well, but after Lily’s recent schemes with Violet to get me in to see a counselor, I was a little wary of going through with this while Lily was here. Mostly, I didn’t want her to see me burst into tears and then turn around and make a plan with Violet to kidnap me and take me to the therapist. “You don’t have to give up your place.”

But I did. I hated staying there at night, because I felt an uncomfortable crawling on my skin, like Kent was watching me somewhere. It was irrational of me to feel that way, but it didn’t stop the fear when I was alone at night. “It’s a waste of money,” I replied, and wondered if Lily and Niamh could hear the reluctance in my voice. “Giving it up is smart.”

“You want to at least go inside and start packing some things up?” Niamh asked. I could hear her teeth chattering. It wasn’t particularly cold outside, but Niamh always ran a little chillier than the average person. 

I probably should. While most of my stuff was at Lily’s now, it would still be nice to go in and see what things I still had in my apartment. The pretty jewelry holder my grandmother had given me was there, along with some shoes that I didn’t wear everyday. The orange lamp my mom had given me for my college dorm was sitting on my nightstand, with the cute little pink mosaics on it that I loved. But seeing that stuff would make me sad, especially because I didn’t want to give up that little space yet. 

Just because something was smart and right didn’t mean it was easy.

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just go to lunch.”

They shared a look with each other, but luckily didn’t push. Niamh because she wasn’t that kind of person, and Lily because she still felt bad about the whole Violet thing. 

Niall and Pat were meeting us for lunch, effectively making me the fifth wheel. However, if it meant I got my money, Niall could join us for every meal he wanted to; Pat was fun to have around. Niamh called an Uber to the little deli she often frequented when she was done with work and when the driver pulled up to the restaurant, Niall and Pat were already sitting outside.

“Morning ladies,” Pat said happily, pulling out the chair next to him for Niamh to sit. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. Niall had two open seats on either side of him, so I slid into one. “We already ordered your food.”

“You know my order?” I asked Pat, raising my brow. 

“No, but Niall does.”

I gave Niall a surprised look. Sure, he knew my Nando’s order because he usually picked it up for Lily and I, but I assumed he had only committed Lily’s order for the deli to memory. “Thanks, Ni. Did you get your usual roast beef?”

“You know me well,” he said, smiling. “I also got you some orange juice.”

Orange juice was my comfort drink. I liked having it when I was sad or nostalgic. When I gave him another surprised look, he shrugged.

“I know seeing your flat probably made you upset, so I figured you’d want some orange juice.”

Smiling softly, I reached over to give him a one-armed hug. I caught the tail end of a look that Niamh and Pat gave one another, their eyebrows furrowed as if they were trying to figure something out. They did this often; I joked that they were so in-tune with one another that they were of one mind. Before I could ask them what their looks meant, however, the server was setting down our drinks and food. Niall had been correct in my favorite sandwich, a turkey with Swiss cheese and extra oil and vinegar. He had also switched out my fries (or as he called them “chips” and playfully rolled his eyes when I said it wrong) for sweet potato fries, which were another weakness.

“Thanks, Ni,” Lily said when her own food arrived. She gave him a small peck on the cheek and I swore I saw dollar signs flash before my eyes.

There was something else, though. Something ugly that clawed at the front of my chest. I didn’t know what it was, but I’d never felt that way before, especially around Lily and Niall. I took a bite of my sandwich to distract me from it.

“How was the flat?” Niall asked.

I tried not to flinch at the thought of it, but a sour expression must have taken over my face. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry, Rosebud. I know you’re sad about leaving it.”

It was stupid to be getting so worked up over nothing but brick and wood, but I had put my all into making that little apartment feel like home. The canvas art that I had purchased at a little family-owned gallery hung perfectly above the tiny little fire place. Lily’s apartment didn’t have a fireplace for me to hang them over. Then there was the macrame plant holder that I had bought on Etsy that made me smile whenever I woke up to it because the sun from my window was always shining on it when my alarm went off. 

It was the first place that had been all mine. I didn’t mind sharing things with Lily, and I didn’t even mind sharing places with Violet. But that apartment had been Rose Fairbrough’s and no one else’s. 

It felt like I was losing a part of myself. 

Niamh seemed to notice the expression on my face and quickly changed the subject, prattling on about something else to keep the group occupied. I shot her a grateful smile. Freshman-year-me sure got lucky with Niamh as a roommate, and twenty-four-year-old-me was lucky that Niamh still wanted to be my friend. And through Niamh, I had met Pat, who never made me feel like a third-wheel when we all hung out. Though Niall and Lily were my people, Lily was my sister and Niall had been Lily’s best friend first. Niamh and Pat were, like my apartment, my own friends that I had made myself.

“I promised Violet I’d take her home from school and go shopping with her,” Lily said, looking at her phone after we had all finished eating. Her eyes caught mine. “I’m assuming you don’t want to come.”

I think I would rather have thrown myself off a bridge, but I didn’t tell Lily that. “I actually went to coffee with Violet earlier this week, so I’ve filled my quota.”

I felt better about denying this outing with them when Lily’s eyes lit up. “You guys got coffee this week? That’s wonderful!”

“It was fine. No big deal.” I had gotten free coffee out of it and Violet had only talked about the therapist for the first five minutes, so the trip actually hadn’t been as terrible as I had expected. 

“That’s a huge deal,” Lily said, smiling widely. “We’ll have to do another sister night soon.”

Niall covered his laugh with a cough when he caught the look on my face.

Lily said her goodbyes, kissing both mine and Niall’s cheeks before she was off. Niamh and Pat only stayed a couple more minutes before they followed behind Lily. That left Niall and I at the table by ourselves, finishing up our lunches.

“What’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?” he asked, giving me a charming smile. He collected our trash and deposited them into the bin, and I strangely watched his legs move as he did so. 

“Just hanging at the house. You?”

“Meeting with one of my athletes. He’s got an idea for eco-friendly sport equipment and he wants to run it by me.”

My eyebrows raised. “Wow. That’s incredible.”

“Yeah, I’m excited to hear about it. You need a ride home?”

I nodded and he led me to his car, a modest Toyota that he had bought as soon as he got the job at the college. When I slid into the passenger seat, I noticed something hanging from his rearview mirror.

“Hey! You found it!” I said excitedly, leaning forward and touching the tiny butterfly charm.

“Oh yeah, I did. I put it up there this morning to remind me to give it back to you. I like having it there. Makes me feel like you’re watching out for me when I’m driving.” He gently removed it from his rearview and handed it to me with a smile. 

“Thanks. Help me put it on?” I unhooked the clasp and wrapped the two sides around my neck. His fingers on my skin made me shiver, but I filed the reaction away for a time where I could dissect it later. 

He didn’t pull his hands away for several moments. I felt his breath on the back of my neck as one of his fingers softly poked at a spot on my flesh. “Hey,” he said softly, “you have a birthmark here. It’s shaped like a tree.”

“You’ve never noticed?” I asked, trying my best to clear my throat. My voice sounded suddenly throaty, like I had something caught in it. 

He chuckled, pulling away enough to have me feeling like I could breathe again. “I think I learn something new about you every time I see you, Rosebud. It’s impossible to know all of you.” I felt the car engine rumble as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.

“You know me better than most people do.”

“Yeah?” he asked, reaching out and tapping my knee. I found myself smiling at the gesture. It was so...Niall. 

“Yeah.”

And it was true. Niall knew me better than nearly everyone in my life, except Lily. The fact that he knew me better than Violet and my parents was something I held dear to my heart. It was just impossible to not unveil your soul to Niall. He was open and honest and caring. The world needed more people like him.

Too quickly, we were pulling up to the apartment. I wasn’t quite ready to leave, but I knew he had the meeting with his athlete and probably had to get going. “Thanks for finding my necklace.”

“Of course, Rosebud. I know how much it means to you.”

I thought about what he said, about feeling like I was with him when he was driving. Without another second to think about it, I unhooked the rose necklace I had worn to lunch today in my other necklace’s absence. “Here,” I said softly, leaning forward and wrapping it around his rearview mirror. “So I’ll always be with you when you’re driving.”

His finger gently touched the charm, and a slow smile spread across his face. “A rose to help me think of my Rosebud?”

“Always.”

He chuckled, and in a move that surprised me, pulled me over towards him so he could press a kiss to my forehead. “One problem, Rose. I’m always thinking about you. A necklace doesn’t change that.”

[flameofchaos]

Whispers in the Dark - The Slayers Fanfic

Warnings: none (I suppose)

 Beta: @naiokiara <3 (this girl is a treasure)

Chapter 3 

Of the group of adventurers, Princess Amelia first appeared downstairs, as always with a broad smile on her delicate face, and stretching her body happily.

“Good morning!” she waved to the innkeeper and two still-a-little-sleepy waitresses. “Birds are singing with the first rays of sun and there is not a single cloud in the sky. The day is SO BEAUTIFUL, I want to dance and… Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Xellos!” The dark-haired girl finally noticed a very sour expression on the Mazoku's face, as her positive energy literally filled up the room. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“No hard feelings, Miss Amelia.,” The demon almost immediately returned to his usual innocent and polite smile, already tasting the sweet flavour of regret from the princess. The poor girl was so pure and good that she was even worried about how her happy attitude could be unpleasant for a Monster. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. I assume the others still aren’t up? They are missing such a wonderful morni-” She bit her tongue at Xellos’ eyebrow’s twitch; “Oh… I mean, Miss Filia will be angry that we still aren’t on our way.”

The demon’s face was now literally angelic. “She tried to wake you all up by knocking on the doors, but I decided my friends deserve good rest… so I have thrown a silencing spell on your rooms, so that no one could disturb you. I suggested that Miss Filia take a refreshing walk meanwhile.”

“And what did she say?” Amelia took her seat on the other side of the table.

“Should I omit filthy words?”

“Of course!”

“Then she said nothing," Xellos took a sip of tea.

“Hello there,” Gourry joined them, yawning like he was ready to swallow them for breakfast. Zelgadis was just behind him, visibly not happy with the fact the Mazoku was still here. 

"What has happened, Xellos? Aren’t there people other than us whose existence you can poison with your presence?" The chimera sat next to Amelia, as far away from the Monster as was possible. Even after so long, he wasn't very fond of the demon. The fact that in the past Xellos burned, with his eyes, a precious manuscript that may have contained a remedium for Zelgadis’ cursed look (the Mazoku insisted there wasn’t any useful knowledge, but could the word of a demon be worth anything?) still burnt Zel painfully.

"I couldn't deny myself such a delicious breakfast as your helpless anger, Mr. Zelgadis," said Xellos, with a voice sweeter than chocolate, looking at the chimera with slightly more open eyes in a way that forced Zelgadis to move uneasily in place. He snorted and waved for a waitress if only to break eye contact with the demon, but halfway to their table the girl was attacked by Lina, who practically yanked the menu from her hands.

“Those five things! Double portions!” She ordered, pointing at the card.

“But maybe your friends would like to choose by themselves, Miss?” the waitress mumbled, overwhelmed with the sorceress' confidence.

“You understood me wrong. It’s only for me. I’m starving!” Lina passed her and placed herself on a free chair between Xellos and Gourry. 

The blonde swordsman waved. “I want the same! Lina always chooses the best dishes!”

“Sorry about them,” Amelia sighed, a little embarrassed, taking menus for herself and Zelgadis.

“Where is Filia?” Lina finally counted her group and gave Xellos a very suspicious look. “Did you eat her?”

“Golden dragon scales are hard to digest even for me,” The demon answered with a nasty smirk. “Don’t worry so much about her, Miss Lina.”

“I’m not worried about her. I’m worried about my breakfast. Filia is the one who pays our bills. If you did something to her-” The sorceress tried to throw a proper threat, but then she reminded herself who this man at her side was. “-you’d better have enough coin in your pouch, because I am ready to eat everything that isn’t fast enough to run away.”

Xellos sent her a smile. “So I assume you did rest well, Miss Lina. The proper relaxation after a hard day can be incredibly effective.”

The sorceress blushed a little, knowing the second layer in the demon’s words. A fast peek at her friends: Gourry was napping with his head resting on his arms on the table and Zelgadis studied the menu with Amelia, probably happy that Lina’s presence meant that he wasn’t any longer the centre of Xellos’ attention. 

“I have a slight headache.” The witch tried not to show her unease, and a thousand questions had been buzzing in her head from the moment she had awakened. The number of holes in her memory seriously worried her. She remembered bathing, talking with Xellos, and the massage of his long skillful fingers on her feet. And later he entered her head.  What had he done to her? She had awakened in her bed wearing a nightgown.

“I only presented you with the offer, but it was a little too much for your mind and body, so you lost consciousness in the bathtub,” whispered the demon calmingly. “I took care of you.”

“Don’t read my thoughts!” she snapped at him, suddenly panicked about what might have happened when she was blacked out.

“I don’t, and I can’t, do that. Reading thoughts is impossible even for Mazoku.” The Trickster Priest sounded offended. “But your emotions are behaving like scared wild horses, Miss Lina. I assure you, I didn’t do anything inappropriate to you. I didn’t even take peeks.” Not too many, anyway, he ended in his mind.

Lina’s face was at the moment far redder than her hair, however, she somehow knew he wasn’t lying to her. Probably indeed better he had transported her to bed rather than leaving her in the cold water where she might even have drowned.

 This is like ending up playing games with Mazoku, the witch realized sourly. She’d let him get into her head not knowing the consequences and he had touched her naked body, even if he wasn’t interested in using the opportunity.

“My, my, Miss Lina! Are you really so disappointed nothing more has happened?” Asked a surprised Xellos, his smile wider with every second, making the sorceress feel the blood flow away from her face. If she only could block his empathic skills.

“I am NOT!” she hissed through teeth, however they both knew it was a lie.

Xellos’ smug smile made her want to punch him or do anything else that could make this handsome face not so handsome anymore.

Suddenly she felt a touch on the inner side of her palm under the table, tickling like someone was brushing fingertips against her skin. Lina froze, seeing that both of Xellos’ hands were actually busy holding a teacup. Who said that human-shaped hands were the only ones the Mazoku had, and that the shadow under the table was just an ordinary lack of light, not a living darkness? The sorceress cringed.

“If you are so interested in more naughty games, we can discuss the conditions of my offer again, Miss Lina,” purred Xellos… and sighed heavily, as Lina had hit his teacup from below, so the warm beverage was now pouring off of his face. “My bad. I guess you need time to rethink the idea. One more tea, please.” The demon asked the waitress with an apologetic smile, wiping up his face with a cloth the woman quickly had offered him.

***

It was late evening the same day when Lina thought (not for the first time) that Filia and Xellos in one place were a greater threat to the world than a gathering of all four Dark Lords created by the Lord of Nightmares. 

The group had ended up camping in the desert because of an embarrassing adventure.

"It is all your fault, you cockroach! You raw garbage! You… you!" Filia's anger finally burnt off and she just drowned in tears, while Xellos’ face was literally a visualisation of the sentence: This time it really (almost) wasn’t my fault! “My dignity has been destroyed! I hate you! Hate you! Hate you!!!”

Amelia massaged the dragoness’ back, pleading with her eyes for Lina's help, but the sorceress could barely suppress her own rage. Her dreams about a cosy room and tasty supper had literally turned into ashes… in Filia’s dragon breath.

"Enough of that! Go sleep! All of you! Gourry, Zel, make a small campfire," she ordered, and something in her voice made the swordsman and the shaman obey without further questions. "I'm taking the first watch near those rocks. Xellos, you are going with me! If I don’t keep you far away from Filia, I will go insane soon!”

“Don’t blame me just because I’m a Mazoku.” The demon followed the redhead girl. “It was all her own fault! She destroyed the town. Filia was the one who chose our path this morning.”

Lina massaged her temples, trying to get rid of her murderous impulses, remembering the quarrel between the monster and dragoness about which way to choose. Xellos’ choice had been definitely rejected by Filia… only because it was a Mazoku’s proposition. Filia was stubborn to a crazy degree, so finally the group had followed her lead and they had reached a nice town.

A wonderful place except one, but important, defect.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell her that dragons aren’t allowed to enter there when she chose that damn path?” Lina yelled at the demon with so much anger that Xellos took a small step back.

“Do you really think she would have believed me? Some people, even dragons, have to burn themselves a little to learn from their own mistakes.”

“But it is MY ass that will freeze now in the desert all night! And you had chosen the right, safe path only because you KNEW she would be in opposition to you. You planned it, didn’t you?”

A smug smile and a light shrug were all from Xellos’ side.

“You aren’t even pretending to be sorry.” Lina sat heavily on sand, leaning her back against one of the rocks.

“Pretending something like that would be an offence to you, Miss Lina. You and I know each other well enough to abandon some false games. Besides, no one there knew Miss Filia was a dragon, but Valgaav’s minions appeared and told that to people in town. She was jailed and they were ready to execute her. Luckily a big bad Mazoku - Me! - appeared to piss the golden dragon off enough that she freed herself from the chains. I was a hero!” He pointed at his own chest happily.

“Filia literally leveled the town to the ground trying to catch you in her rage, you asshole!” Lina ran her palm across her face, tired, knowing the demon definitely had too much fun with this story.

Even from afar the sorceress still could hear the Priestess of Light’s whining:

“I destroyed the town! How embarrassing! What a shame! If only that devil hadn’t provoked me to change into my dragon form!”

“The other outcome would have been you bringing her severed head to the Flare Dragon King’s Temple,” reminded Xellos, sitting low by Lina’s side, to disappear from Filia’s sight. “Don’t worry. People there were fast enough to survive. They will rebuild the town and this time they will be sure to put there also a giant sign: Seriously! Dragons aren’t allowed to enter here.” He burst out with a loud laugh. “Did you see Valgaav’s minions' faces? ‘Oh dear, she REALLY is a dragon’, " the demon parodied the surprised tone of Gravos and Jillas, who hadn’t run quickly enough, and the impact of Filia’s tail had catapulted them high in the air.

Finally Lina chuckled too. Yes, maybe that view had been worth a night under a starry sky, here in the middle of desert. She would have paid to see Valgaav’s face when his servants gave him the report. Anyway, whatever Xellos did, the sorceress just wasn’t able to be angry with him for too long. This damn monster always knew the ways to distract her.

The air was cooler and cooler. The heat of day in such a place quickly changed into cold night, and Lina embraced herself tighter with her black coat. 

In the camp, Filia finally got quiet, and one peek told the sorceress that the exhausted dragoness had fallen asleep cuddling herself up to Amelia. Gourry was already snoring near the fire. Zelgadis also was preparing for rest. 

Lina inhaled deeply, enjoying the quiet and peace. Xellos’ side was warm and sheltered her from the wind, so she allowed herself to relax a little.

“You can rest too, Miss Lina. I will keep guard.” The velvet demon’s tone made the witch snort.

“I’m on watch also to keep an eye on you, Mr. Evil,” she noted, patting his nose sympathetically. “What if you sneak up to Filia and fill her sleep with nightmares?”

“Miss Lina, don’t give me such delicious ideas. Now how could I resist that?” His white teeth flashed in a grin, and Lina answered with her own bright smile, before she rested her head on his shoulder, sighing heavily.

Xellos was surprised with that sudden show of trust, so he reached his senses into Lina’s aura to check it. The demon suspected she was too tired to be fully on guard, or maybe she believed that their agreement about cooperation against Valgaav was valid. Her feelings confused him a little. The sorceress was tired, of course, but Lina had simply sought his closeness because… she was accepting him as one of her tribe. There was neither embarrassment in her now, nor hostility. Only uncertainty. She was far away from home. These were unknown lands, and Filia was also a stranger to her, unlike Xellos. The Mazoku was something familiar to Lina. She knew he was dangerous as hell and that she can’t believe him, but… somehow he was hers, a stable part of reality, from her point of view. 

Xellos considered how to use the new situation to his advantage, but finally he also let himself to put aside his mischievous nature and enjoyed the unusual atmosphere. In this fight between him and Filia over Lina, he was winning at the moment, and the art of manipulation sometimes demanded patience.

“I’m glad you are again with us, Xellos.” The girl’s murmur confirmed what the demon had concluded from her emotions. “Like in the good old good day.” She was observing stars, but her mind was somewhere else. “So many adventures behind us. This town today reminded me of when we snuck into the city where only ladies were allowed to enter and we forced you, boys, to dress like women,” she chuckled, covering her face in his blouse.

“I remember. Mr. Zelgadis as 'Miss Lulu' was quite popular there. I can recall the taste of his embarrassment.”

“And poor Gourry. Till this day he shivers when he sees a pink dress.” Lina wiped away a tear of joy. “Not to mention you. Martina said later that she had to hide you from others’ eyes because of how sexy you were in that red outfit. With what did you fill those false boobs, huh?”

“Who said they were false?”

Lina choked in the middle of laughing on her own breath and looked at the demon in disbelief.

“Nooooo… Seriously?” she blinked.

“Mazoku don’t have males or females,” the priest winked at her. “Being a shapeless darkness which can take preferred form has many advantages. But I am the most used to the male vessel I have now.”

“That explains those perfect hips in that red dress too. How many convenient secrets do you have, you beast?” Lina enjoyed the new fact to the point that she was biting the fabric of Xellos’ coat so as to not awake her friends with laughter.

“As many as I need. I am always open to new experiences. Even those including your lovely but sharp teeth. Do you remember that my clothes are part of me?”

Lina immediately straightened her back and cleared her throat. It was quite dark despite the stars and the faint light of the nearby campfire, but the Mazoku’s eyes could easily notice a deep blush on her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, but then shivered when, away from his closeness, cold attacked her fragile body. In the next moment she found herself in the previous position as the demon wrapped her shoulders with his arm, pulling her to his warm side. Lina stopped breathing when she felt how that which looked like his “coat” moved itself too, covering her tightly.

“We don’t want you to change into an icicle, do we?” Hypnotizing amethyst eyes with vertical pupils flashed a little too close for Lina’s preferences. “What is it? You have goosebumps? Just like then, in that doll tower. You were so scared there, because of that little horror story I’d told you all the evening before. Scared of ghosts, ha! If you could have known then that a real Mazoku was just next to you. What a silly adventure. I adore those times when you all didn’t know who I was and were acting so boldly. I remember Miss Martina protecting me, a poor victim, from the rage of cruel Lina Inverse.”

Lina’s stiffness slowly vanished as she noticed that Xellos is still in a talkative, rather harmless mood and she adjusted her position under his arm, looking for comfort, resting a cheek on his chest. Somehow it hit her a lot when she noticed the lack of a beating heart sound. Her brain reacted nervously to the conflict of expectations and reality.

“Oh, my apologies. Next to you, Miss Lina, I’m not so on guard about the human form in such detail. Take it as a compliment that I feel good with you.” The demon finally noticed her confusion, and a moment later, the girl caught the slight beating under her ear.

A cheater among cheaters, she rolled her eyes.

"Poor Martina, you broke her heart! She was so devastated when she discovered that her charming prince was a monster.” Lina still could feel the satisfaction from seeing the annoying princess of Xoana's face in the moment she had understood the awful truth about her chosen man.

"Miss Martina was so funny and delicious! And full of energy in many ways." The demon sighed dreamingly.

Lina raised her head to look at his face suspiciously.

"Did you and she… you know…" 

Was there really a sparkle of jealousy in his redhead sorceress? "Curiosity killed the cat, Miss Lina.” The witch gasped, surprised, when she felt a light kiss on the tip of her nose, and she wrinkled it in a lovely way, ashamed by the cold feeling of wetness that his lips had left on her skin.

Lina suddenly became aware that most of the intimate moments in her life (all of them unplanned), she had experienced with Xellos, and it didn’t help her to feel better.

Him and his teasing games…

"I'm asking only from a scientific point of view." She added quickly. "I wondered if it was possible for your race to-"

"Engage in a sexual act?" Finished Xellos with a low voice that made the girl’s heart drum. He laughed quietly. "Some kinds of knowledge you have to earn."  His fingers ran lazily through long red locks. "Mr. Zangulus was gifted with Miss Martina's innocence during their wedding night. It was not her who I am interested in." 

The demon's words confused Lina more than everything else. It wasn't a clear declaration, she tried to convince herself, ignoring the tips of his nails gently caressing the skin of her head. The sorceress realized that his hand was bare again.

"So there is a woman you are interested in?" She asked, regretting it in the next moment.

"The fact it is a woman isn't important for me. Human mating rituals aren't natural for my kind."

Lina felt suddenly very uncomfortable. The creature next to her looked exactly like a human, but it was only an illusion. To be honest, the Mazoku race was a great mystery even for those who spent all their lives studying black magic. They were evil. They were darkness. And power. Especially power.

"What's happened, Miss Lina? I thought we are talking from… a scientific point of view?" The thumb on the arm he was using to embrace her body brushed her cheek. His cruel lips were smiling mockingly. Oh, how he was enjoying the moment of the storm of her emotions now: the desperate wish to withdraw from this embarrassing moment, to distance herself. And fear… yes, she was scared of him again.

"Yes." She mumbled with an offended tone. "Only from a scientific point of view."

The monster giggled, calmingly massaging the sorceress' shoulder to give her more warmth.

"From a scientific point of view humans aren't constructed to fly, but they do that using spells like Ray Wing or Levitation.” He pointed. "Mazoku don't need intimate acts to breed like humans, but… unknown terrains are always very tempting to explore. Am I not right?" He played with one of her red locks, slipping it among fingers.

"Enough of your seductive tricks," she tried to push him away, but it would be easier to move a mountain than Xellos’ arm.

"It wasn’t doing anything like that. Should I show you my seductive side, Miss Lina?" he whispered, grabbing her chin and pulling it up, so she looked straight into his  gleaming demonic eyes. The sorceress became as if paralyzed, when she felt his breath on her own mouth. He smelled of black magic. She could easily recognize this scent, heavy but fresh, like thunder ready to strike a tree in an open field. "You awoke curiosity in me, and a curious Mazoku is rather hard to get rid of." His lips brushed against hers when he spoke. Suddenly it became definitely too hot for Lina. Growing panic took control over her and she reacted like always, with a burst of anger.

"Let me go, you awful…!" A mistake. In the moment she opened her mouth, his tongue slipped inside, teasing hers and withdrawing before she was able to bite him. 

"Mmm… you are more delicious than I thought." The beast murmured huskily and then chuckled. "What’s with that terrified face? I was only teasing you."

Lina slapped his cheek.

"Oh, dear." He caught her wrists before she could hit him again. "Watch out, sweetling." Amethyst reptilian eyes started to glow delicately. "Violence is a language in which I am better versed than you."

Lina breathed fast, trying to fight down her own fury. Again he had done with her as he pleased. Monster!

The sorceress snorted, giving up. It wasn't possible to win with Xellos, so she sighed and laid her head back on his chest, observing stars and remaining silent. Soon his hand returned to caressing her hair. 

She still could taste the flavour of him on the tip of her tongue. It was like little lightning, tickling her taste buds in a rather pleasant way. Lina wasn't able to compare it to any other taste she was familiar with. Slowly the sorceress calmed down.

"Asshole." She said, resisting licking her lips.

"And still you like me as I am, Miss Lina." He noted, sensing that the girl was now more amused by her own helplessness than angry with him.

"Oh, shut up." Lina yawned widely. It was too comfortable to lie like that by his side. Warmth, the softness of his clothes which weren't clothes, the soothing caresses of his fingers in her hair. She started to get sleepy.

Then she felt it. His aura brushed against hers in a delicate but demanding way.

"No way. Not again. I’ve had enough of that for now." She refused with a tired voice and Xellos withdrew his astral parts obediently. 

"For now," he whispered, and kissed the forehead of the drifting girl. "There is always a new day, like you, humans, say."

[dvp95]

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 12

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, deeper than anticipated but still not that deep y'all this is primarily silly, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 3,311 for this chapter (53,098 total)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

The last time that Dan was alone with his mum for longer than a few minutes at a time over Christmas, their conversation had felt awkward and stilted. All of the things they had to say to each other lingered right below the surface, sharpening the edges of the conversation in a way neither of them knew how to acknowledge.

That's what Dan expects this lunch to be like. He thinks he's prepared for every option of what his mum might say to him, carefully building up the familiar walls in case he needs them, but.

She arrives late with apologies on her lips and Colin in her arms, frazzled as always, and it's almost comforting to Dan that she hasn't gotten any more punctual since he moved out. That's something they share that used to drive his dad up the wall. Maybe it still does. Dan wouldn't know. The only reason he's on time is that he came straight from work to nab a table at the dog-friendly brunch place that Yelp insists is good, and he's been happily dog-watching since he sat down.

"Sorry, sorry, hi," his mum is saying, dropping Colin on Dan's lap without warning. "Traffic was a bloody mess."

"That's alright," Dan says, but the words are coming out on autopilot. He scratches Colin's fuzzy head and blinks back the wetness that threatens to well up behind his eyes.

It's been a good few months since he'd last seen Colin, and he's as cute as ever. Dan can bet that the collar is brand new, though - the vertical stripes on it are narrow and the hues are garish, but there's no doubt about what it is.

"It's nice, yeah?" his mum asks as she sits across from them, clearly noticing Dan's preoccupation. "I hope I grabbed the right one."

Dan swallows around the growing lump in his throat and lets his fingers brush over the bright rainbow around Colin's neck, making sure it's there and real. It's a gesture that he didn't expect, and one he has no idea how to deal with. He keeps petting Colin absently and meets his mum's eyes.

"It's perfect," he tells her. "Suits him."

"Suits you," she counters lightly. She gives him a soft, sad sort of smile. "Caught you on the telly yesterday. I haven't seen you look this happy in a long time, bear."

Oh, fuck. Dan is not going to cry, not surrounded by dogs and strangers in this weirdly bougie restaurant in Chelsea. He wipes hurriedly at his eyes and feels a rush of gratitude when his mum pretends she hasn't seen, looks down at the menu.

He hadn't expected this. He doesn't know why, since he'd thought about a million and one ways that this lunch could be awkward or painful, but he somehow never thought she'd be so... supportive.

And maybe that's not fair of him. His mum had supported him when he'd dropped out of school, when he'd bought a one-way ticket with his shitty Asda paychecks, when he came home from drinking in the park at three in the morning with a split lip. She hasn't been perfect by any means, and because of that Dan has always assumed that her support was conditional even if her love was not.

Vividly, he remembers the way she'd cheer on the sidelines of any game he or Adrian played - although Adrian had wanted to play, the absolute freak - and how embarrassed he'd felt at the time, hot under the collar from the attention.

"I am happy," Dan tells her. They are both looking at their menus now, one of his hands shaking on Colin's back. "I'm - it feels good to be honest with myself and with you guys."

"With yourself?" his mum asks, her voice softer than he's heard it since he was a child. "Oh, Daniel. You didn't know?"

That's not something he really wants to get into with her, but Dan understands why she's asking. He's almost thirty years old. She'd probably just thought he was keeping it from her, not smothering his own wants for fifteen years. "No, like. I knew. But I didn't want to know. It's not like it's been fucking easy, has it? So I just. Pretended it wasn't there as best as I could, and. I've been pretending for a really long time, mum."

There's more to it, but she doesn't need to know any of that. Dan doesn't want to sit there and tell his mother how much he'd hated himself, how unsafe he'd felt at school and home and out with his 'friends', how there had been a point where he didn't want to live at all if he had to be gay.

Dan had definitely come a long way in the decade or so since then, but he'd done that by keeping a box of feelings locked up tight and ignoring the voice in his head that reminded him how much he wanted men.

Now, he feels... okay. He's going to be okay.

His mum's hand covers his on the table, the size difference between them almost comical.

"I love you," she says. "Blimey, I can't even imagine. I'm so glad you told me, Daniel. I feel like... like we don't really know each other that well."

Maybe a week ago, that might have gotten Dan's back up against the wall. And whose fault is that? he thinks but doesn't sneer, because his mum had put a rainbow collar on Colin and keeps saying she loves him. He can fight past the automatic defensiveness.

Dan runs a hand over Colin to calm himself back down, smiling when Colin licks his hand. Eventually, he feels like he can respond to her without snapping something he'd regret later. "That's true."

Luckily, their waiter stops by their table with three waters - two in glasses, one in a bowl - and effectively startles Dan and his mum out of the very serious conversation they'd decided to have in a public place. The conversation moves on to their jobs, Adrian's various adventures, and how good of a boy Colin is. Dan remembers to ask after his grandparents and his mum snorts into her vegan pancakes at one of his jokes, so. It's all going suspiciously well.

They even have the waiter take a photo of the three of them, which is surreal to Dan. He's not used to this, to wanting to have a physical reminder of any time he's spent with his family, but they're having such a nice start to the afternoon.

There are moments where Dan can feel the gap more deeply, though. Stories that carefully don't include his father. Questions she asks that he doesn't know the answer to.

It gets to a point, boiling up inside of Dan, that he has to ask before he explodes.

"Mum," he says, quiet. They're nearly done eating, which means that if this goes badly Dan can easily hug his mum goodbye and go take comfort in Phil's lap. "Did you... did you tell Dad about my text?"

He's nervous to look at her when he asks, but he's glad that he didn't try to hide. The anger that flashes across her face for a split second is so vindicating that Dan can't even imagine how differently he'd feel about his mother if he'd never seen that.

"I did," she says shortly.

There's a beat. "I suppose you're going to tell me that he'll come around and he loves me?"

"I'm not going to tell you anything of the sort," his mum says. Dan is desperate to look away now, doesn't like seeing that disapproving twist of her mouth even if it isn't directed at him. "You're both grown men and can make your own decisions. I made mine, that's all I can do."

Dan swallows hard and gives Colin a nibble on his bacon so he has an excuse to break eye contact with her. "Adrian's fine with it."

"Well, of course he is. And of course I am too, Daniel, because even if I had some issue with gay people - which I don't," she stresses the words like she's trying to convince Dan, "one of my best friends is a lesbian, she's a lovely woman - I would still prioritize my son who I love over any of that prejudicial nonsense. It takes a very special kind of person to think that anything about their child is worth not speaking to them."

Ten, fifteen years ago, Dan had been convinced that everyone in his life would hate him for this part of him that he kept under wraps. He hated himself, why would other people be any different?

And maybe that could have been the case back then, before society started to get its shit together a little bit and 'gay' stopped being synonymous with 'bad'. There's no way to know for sure, and he supposes it doesn't really matter. That's not the timeline he lives in.

Dan chances a glance at his mum, who is idly folding her napkin into various floppy origami shapes like she needs to be doing something with her hands.

The question sticks in his throat, but Dan forces it out anyway. His mum has said a lot of nice things that he's going to cry about when he's alone, but he needs to know how far that extends.

"And... am I still invited to Christmas?"

His mum blinks up at him, looking a bit startled. "Of course you're still coming to Christmas. My home is your home and always will be, don't be stupid. If your father wants to put his own selfish arse over his sons, then he can be the one to fuck off. We don't need him to have a good holiday."

Dan buries his face in Colin's fur and squeezes his eyes shut for just a moment, letting the gratitude and grief wash over him.

Out of every scenario he'd pictured, Dan never even thought to hope for this kind of unconditional acceptance. He knows that they still have a long way to go, that he and his mum will always have things they can't say to each other and that Adrian will never be his best friend, but. They're trying. All three of them are trying to navigate this so that they can be a bit closer, know each other better, and that's a start.

--

The park isn't far, but Dan's mum insists on driving so she doesn't have to walk back and get her car later. Dan hates how much he relates to that.

An old CD blares over the car's shitty speakers, knocking Dan back into childhood the way few things can. Some indie punk bullshit from the 90s that he still somehow knows all the words to. They both sing along to it and his mum scream-laughs when Colin barks, coincidentally in rhythm with the drums.

Dan is having fun with his mum, a concept that is so foreign to him he's half convinced it's a sleep-deprived hallucination, and he almost forgets to text Phil that they're on their way.

Ok! We're already here, Thor insisted lmao, Phil sends back immediately, and Dan feels a little bad that he hasn't been keeping Phil updated all morning. Still, he supposes, he was working and then dealing with family bullshit, so he supposes that Phil will understand.

They park a little ways down the road and Dan feels odd in the sudden quiet of the car. The things they don't talk about seem to fill the space between them, creeping in as the nostalgia fades.

"Mum," he says, and she pauses in the midst of opening her door. "I... thank you, for this. It means a lot to me that you came today."

"Of course," his mum says like it really is that obvious.

"You might see more of me soon, if you'd like to," Dan tells her, putting Colin on his lead so he doesn't have to make eye contact. "I'm thinking about moving to London."

"Oh, Daniel, that's wonderful," she says, warm, and Dan's heart hurts so fucking much. Their relationship has always been a bit complicated, strained, but he's willing to make an effort if she is.

He gives her a small smile and gets out of the car with Colin, the sincerity in her voice suddenly too much to handle in such a small space. While they walk, he chats to Colin about how nice the park is and how there are a lot of new friends for him to play with. He likes to think that Colin's tail wags faster at the information.

The sound of the gate opening makes a bunch of dogs look over, the way it always does, and Thor starts bounding toward Dan as fast as his stubby legs can carry him.

"Thor, you can't just - oh, Dan!"

Phil stops chasing after Thor and just approaches them at a regular pace, grinning.

"Don't worry, he's not making an escape," Dan laughs, crouching down to greet Thor and holding tight to Colin's lead just in case.

Thor licks at Dan's free hand and then sniffs at Colin, who seems chill with it. He's such a calm dog, Dan loves him so much. Dan is so busy overseeing this introduction that he nearly misses the humans above him introducing themselves to each other.

"Hi, I'm Phil, and this is Thor! You must be Mrs. Howell."

Dan's mum pulls a face, and for a terrifying second Dan thinks she was all talk after all, that she really does care now that she's faced with a man, but she just says, "Not hardly. Call me Karen or call me nothing."

The problem, of course, is that Phil is predictable. Dan knows the joke is coming a split second before he brightly says, "Nice to meet you, Nothing."

Thankfully, his mum laughs.

"Cheeky. This young man here is Colin."

Phil crouches down too, his eyes meeting Dan's for a brief, nervous moment before he's holding out his hand for Colin to shake. Colin, the very good boy he is, sits down and shakes paw.

"And very nice to meet you," Phil says solemnly. Dan had no idea his heart could fit any more of Phil in it, but it swells three sizes like the fucking Grinch. Dan's sure it's written all over his face, but he doesn't need to hide that from anyone here. He's allowed to be obviously smitten over his boyfriend. "I've heard so much about you."

It's all far too genuine for Dan, suddenly, this whole thing, so he snorts and unhooks Colin from the lead.

"You're such a dork," he tells Phil as they both stand, the dogs chasing each other around now that they've both been released. Phil just shrugs and grins, hands in his pockets.

He looks nice in his buttoned shirt, short sleeves showing off his arms and a headache-inducing print enough to make Dan ridiculously fond, but he also looks a bit anxious. Dan knows the feeling.

"Wanna sit?" he asks his mum, gesturing to a picnic table. She rolls her eyes.

"I've been sitting all morning, Daniel," she says lightly. "I think I can handle craning my neck to look at you lot."

Quick getaway, Dan's depression gremlin shouts. She doesn't want to be here, she's just acting nice because she's afraid you're on a ledge, just like Adrian was, none of them actually accept you or want you to be around...

It always gets harder to shut up the less he's slept, so Dan has to ride the wave of self-hatred until Phil smiles down at his mum and starts making easy conversation.

Phil is so good at this part. He's not relaxed, Dan can tell by the set of his shoulders and the awkward way his hands are sticking out of his jean pockets, but some combination of radio training and natural charm make him seem like nothing is more thrilling than hearing about Dan's mum's drive to the city.

Dan isn't good at this part. He tunes out a bit and starts taking photos and videos of the dogs whenever they come close enough. They're fast friends, and Dan likes the idea of orchestrating puppy playdates when he lives here.

He zones back in when he hears his name, blinking over at them like he's fallen asleep standing up.

"What?" he bleats.

"We weren't talking to you," Phil informs him, his lips twitching.

"You're talking about me, then?"

They exchange an amused, exasperated sort of look. Dan suddenly isn't very sure at all that this was a good idea. Of course Dan's mum likes Phil, it's impossible not to like Phil. Now they're just going to gang up on him all the bloody time.

Even in Dan's own mind he can't pretend like that's a bad thing.

"I was just saying," Dan's mum says, "that I wanted to thank Phil for bringing you back to England. I know you've been talking about doing it for years, kid, but you do tend to put things off."

"Like I said, Karen," Phil says with a level of familiarity that Dan isn't sure how to feel about. It's just the way the Lesters act, but it isn't the way the Howells are. It's strange to watch his mum try and keep up with the vibe of a man who's talking like he's known her his whole life. "It's really nothing to do with me."

"Oh, bollocks," his mum says. Dan laughs.

There's still so much he and his mum don't know about each other, things they need to reconnect on, but that doesn't mean it isn't obvious to anyone with eyes that Dan's plan is only changing right now because of Phil coming into his life.

"Well, can you blame me?" he jokes, some of the knot in his chest easing. She really doesn't mind, does she? Not the way he thought she would.

"Not at all," she says, and Phil ducks his head with a stupidly shy sort of smile. Dan wants to kiss it off his face.

Colin trudges up to them then, panting and whining a bit, and they all coo nonsense at him. He's always so lazy and chilled out over Christmas, Dan bets he doesn't do the zoomies with super excitable dogs very often.

"Seems like Colin's done for the day," says Dan. He leashes Colin and hands the lead to his mum. "It was really nice to see you both. Like, really. I had fun."

"No need to sound so surprised about it," his mum says dryly. They aren't huggers, really, not unless some traumatic shit is going down, so it doesn't surprise Dan when she just blows him a kiss goodbye. "Hopefully I'll see you both soon, yeah? Don't be strangers."

"Wouldn't dream of it," says Phil. He shifts closer to Dan, their shoulders knocking lightly together.

"Love you, mum," Dan says, because he feels like he has to after everything, and because it's the truth. She smiles up at him, so warm that something in Dan settles into place.

"Love you too, honey. It was really nice to meet you, Phil."

"Likewise," says Phil. He bumps into Dan again as they watch her and Colin walk away, the solidity of his shoulder keeping Dan grounded. Dan has had a very long, very emotionally taxing day, and that small bit of contact makes the stress of it all seep out of him at once. "You okay, Dan?"

The sleepless night is catching up with Dan, now that the anxiety is dissipating, and all he wants to do is melt into Phil's chest and take a long nap.

"I'm very okay," he says, surprised by how much he means it. "Let's go home, yeah?"

[thiscrimsonsoul]

Not to mix up lores, but what would Wanda do if she could visit Stephen King's "Pet Sematary" and she still had Pietro's/Vision's bodies nearby? (Although I don't think it would work with Vision because... He's a super complex being! And I'm assuming you know what happens because you write so well, I'm sure you read a lot) Would Wanda try to bring them back despite the warnings? Or would she let them rest?

{out of paprikash} Oh, this is such a cool question! Lots to discuss here. I’m a big horror book and movie buff and I love both for “Pet Sematary.” So... I think it would depend on Wanda’s mental state at the time, and exactly how much she was told about the results of burying someone at the “Pet Sematary.” Let’s do a best case/worst case scenario thing, shall we?

Best case scenario, Wanda is of relatively sound mind and is shown or told pretty compelling stories to make her think twice. Maybe she was shown a news article of what happened to the Creeds or some other family affected by the place, or she had someone explain to her in gory detail what happened. Hmm... I guess for the benefit of my followers who may not know the story, I should explain a bit so that everyone understands. You know what? Under the cut because I ended up rambling on FOREVER with this ask, haha...

“Pet Sematary,” spelled incorrectly because it was supposed to have been written on a sign by young children, was a place where you could bury the dead and have them come back to life. Sort of, heh. Started as a graveyard where kids buried their pets, it was an evil place that twisted whatever was buried there. It was located on an Indian burial ground (very trope-ish, I know), and basically the premise was that the ground had “gone sour.” Whatever you buried there would come back to you, so I mean it did work, but there were consequences. There was one iconic line in the original movie, I forget whether it was in the book too, I read it so many years ago, but it was, “Sometimes, dead is better.” In other words, as painful as it is to lose someone, it’s even more so to have their memory twisted or overwritten by some perversion or obscene likeness of them. It’s also even more painful to deal with all the other associated consequences, of which there were many...

The first initial moments of the animal or person coming back to you might be nice, only because it takes a while for the full evil to set in, and of course you wanted your loved one back, so seeing them again makes you happy. But pretty soon you would notice them having some weird behaviors. They might stare at you creepily, might want to eat raw meat, might be angrier or crueler than you remember them, might be obsessed with weapons or sharp objects. And the more you either question the behavior or try to correct it, the angrier and more frustrated the person or animal becomes.

The next stage is them trying to harm or even kill random people and animals around you or even people in your family or your friends. The resurrected person or animal becomes more and more violent and murderous, and less like the loved one you buried. Their actions become more impulsive, less rational, and more instinctual, like a crazed animal more than a healthy one or a sane person. They might drool, growl, hit their head against the wall... just really strange things, even as they harm or kill everyone around you.

The last stage is them hunting and killing you, the person who buried them. In fact, there was a rule for this. “You bury your own.” It’s kindof like well... if you want this done, if you want this person or animal to come back and are basically willing to spit in the face of the laws of nature to make it happen, then you have to take responsibility for the associated consequences. And it becomes really cruel and heartbreaking because they will try to lure you to them with false kindness and love.

So... at the point at which they’re trying to kill you, you’re probably on to them by now and wanting to re-kill them to get them to stop killing your family and friends. But they’re a loved one too, and they know it, and they’ll use it. So if it’s a cat, it’ll mew softly or purr at your leg before jumping at your throat. If it’s a spouse, they’ll try to hug you or kiss you as they’re raising a knife to your back. if it’s a child, they’ll cry for mommy or daddy as they conceal a scalpel or some other weapon to harm you with as soon as you pick them up. They might ask you, “Why are you doing this to me?” while looking super sad, and the second you start to break down and regret things, they’ll move in for the kill. So they really use your love for them as a weakness to get to you, which is a very sad concept.

The premise is a lot like, for those of you who love the horror genre, the second story of Trilogy of Terror II (1996). A woman whose son drowned in the ocean near their home performs an occult ritual to bring him back. The boy does come back, and he seems confused, disoriented, cold, but otherwise fine. Very quickly, however, he becomes mouthy, demanding, disobedient, destructive... and eventually he ends up trying to kill his mom. The punch line of the story is that the boy didn’t drown accidentally, but rather he jumped off the cliffs and into the water to get away from his controlling and abusive mother. The boy’s soul didn’t want to come back, so something else came back instead. Something evil. Well Pet Sematary is the same kind of deal. It’s almost like Celtic stories of changelings, how it looks exactly like the person you know, but doesn’t act like them at all.

The upshot is that anything buried at the Pet Sematary would come back in the body you buried (which had it’s own downsides if the body was badly destroyed during the person’s death, and the person/animal would smell really bad, because they are in fact still dead) but the soul of the person you loved wouldn’t be inside. Instead, there was something else, soulless, evil, demonic, whatever you wanted to infer it was. And it was always just... utterly remorseless, entirely without empathy, and would always just tear apart the life of the person who buried the body before actually killing them too. I think there was a lesson here, or maybe a few lessons, something to the effect of, death is permanent and there’s not coming back from it. But also... there are consequences for imagining yourself above the laws of nature. And also... shame on you for disturbing the rest of a person who may not want to come back. Whether they wanted to die or prefer to remain dead now that they are, it’s seen as total selfish hubris on the part of the person burying their dead loved one because it’s about easing your pain instead of letting your loved one rest in peace.

Okay so now that I’ve blabbed on and on about that... the best case scenario for Wanda is if she’s fairly mentally stable, maybe just grieving but has not lost touch with reality yet, and that she is swayed by the stories she reads/hears. Wanda does believe in demons, she is superstitious, and she is very fearful of things like damning souls for eternity. It’s why she is so disturbed by what she feels when Pietro dies and interprets it partially from what she actually feels but partially out of fear and grief as him ending up in some sort of hell or place where his soul is being tortured in some way. So she does believe in such things and Pietro and Vision both are two people she loved so fiercely that if she is in her right mind, she would not play around with anything that might damn them, punish them, torture them, or twist their natures at all.

With Pietro and his love of running and athletics and with Vision and his unique body, Wanda would not be attracted to the idea of bringing them back in bodies that are falling apart, rotting, or otherwise continuing to die even though they are animated. That’s... perverted to her. It’s a perversion of nature and of their bodies which she values because they were important to them, so she would never want to bring them back in any condition that would upset them or be anything less than the ideal they would want to live in.

But I think the real kicker that would really drive home for her that this is a bad idea and something she wouldn’t mess with is if someone explained to her that it wouldn’t be the soul of the person she actually loves being brought back. It’d be their body, but something dark inside them. That would really both scare her and turn her off to the whole idea.

Also, something I just thought of... is that if Wanda actually went to the Pet Sematary - and this is my own headcanons to some extent - she might be able to read the land? Wanda reads minds, yes, but she is also attuned to certain energies and very empathetic. She might either sense the evil of the land, the “sourness,” as it were... or she might maybe pick up on residual emotions from people who had been victimized by the land. That would also be a huge deterrent to her actually going through with anything.

NOW... heh... WORST case scenario. So let’s say this is a post-Endgame Wanda who did not adjust well and is now grieving Vision along with Pietro and her parents and Natasha and Tony and anybody else she’s lost. Maybe she tries to use her own powers to bring Vision back and it doesn’t work. She’s getting exhausted, run down, frustrated, more grief-stricken, and now she’s losing touch with reality. She’s seeing things. She’s sleep-deprived. She’s not eating well. And all of that is making her so desperate to just have somebody come back to her. That version of Wanda might actually go through with it. Although at that point, she’d have to do Vision because there wouldn’t be enough of a body left from Pietro to try it with him. I don’t see Wanda doing it with Pietro after Ultron, I just don’t see her being that mentally unstable yet at that point in her life to make such an unwise decision. But after Endgame? Yeah. Maybe. But for now we’ll assume she buries Vision there.

So... this is actually gonna get real sad, real fast, heh, because there’s no happy ending here at all. One outcome is that Vision goes on a rampage and starts killing people and other Avengers have to find some way to kill him, in which case Wanda would seriously lose her shit to see Vision killed a third time. I think if she’s mentally unstable enough to bury him in the sour land after all those warnings, then she might actually be able to look past whatever evil he was doing and just be utterly delusional about it and insist that he’s fine. So... seeing him killed again would really unhinge her and she might start trying to kill people... at which point... the remaining Avengers would have to either kill or subdue her.

Another outcome is that Vision stays around Wanda for a most part or at least doesn’t draw too much attention to himself and goes right for her, of course with the intent to kill her. But I think at this point Wanda would be so happy to see him in any form that her reaction would be similar to that of Louis Creed when he buried his wife Rachel. For those who haven’t seen the movie (the 1989 version, anyway, I haven’t seen the 2019 one yet), Louis by this time had lost the family cat, his toddler son, his neighbor, and then his wife. Well... the toddler son killed the wife, heh, because he was buried first. But yeah. By the time his wife is killed and he’s forced to re-kill his toddler son, Louis is pretty freakin’ unhinged mentally, heh. He’s just broken by his pain and when Rachel comes back dripping with goo and just her face is falling apart and it’s just nasty, haha... he doesn’t even see it. He only sees his wife, and he’s happy, and he hugs her and kisses her, and she stabs him in the back, heh. It’s gross but it’s also really just heartbreaking to me because he’s so broken by that point. I think a similar situation would happen with Wanda, where she would just be so far gone mentally that she would just be happy to see Vision and would go to him, not knowing or caring that he is pretty much just going to kill her. And that.... gosh, that thought just breaks my heart to pieces. 

Thank you so much for sending this in, this was a really fun hypothetical, fictional exercise for my brain, haha. Like... I really had a lot of fun writing this and imagining all the possibilities. If there’s anything I didn’t cover or you think of other related questions, feel free to send them in, because this was a really interesting rabbit hole to go down! =)

[alicedopey]

Heartless - Chapter IV

Pairing: Harald / Reader

Genre: Romance, angst

Ratings: Mature

Words: 2607

Warnings: Rape, mild violence and suicidal thoughts.

A/N: I’m sorry.

(banner edited by my sweet @naaladareia)

Stay. The single word was ringing in your head. One single word that scared and tempted you at the same time. Clearly, he had decided to use his power over you and asked of you what you had thought he never would. But his eyes seemed to implore you to stay, they were almost hopeful. A curious thought crossed your mind.

“Sir, I'm not Queen Astrid.” You said softly, trying to release your wrist from his grip.

Harald did not let go. “I know who you are Y/N.” He tugged on your arm. “Lie down next to me.”

It sounded like an order this time, reminding you of your status. You breathed shakily and nervously moistened your dry lips with your tongue. You could do this. You had already done it so much....only this time it was deceiving. He was just like your other masters after all.

You took a few hesitant steps and lay down on the bed, both scared and excited. The moment your body touched the furs, the King let go of you. You waited, waited...tense and almost shaking. It never came. He had fallen asleep.

Your purpose was pretty clear by then; he needed a presence next to him to sleep. You were here to listen, to fill a gap.... certainly not to be touched or loved. Never forget it. You finally allowed yourself to relax when he started snoring again. The furs were comfortable and you felt so tired, you fell asleep instantly.

Those were your nights with King Harald, sleeping side by side without touching each other. He obviously slept better but the nightmares did not stop entirely. He would often wake up screaming or kept trashing and moaning. You would calm him down, caressing his face or murmuring soothing words and he would go back to sleep.

Something was bothering him though. You knew it, you could feel it. He had to get rid of it or his nights would remain troubled. He needed to talk to someone about it and this time, he seemed to consider he could not confess anything to you. Even to you. In the meantime, he lost himself in this idea of overpowering Ivar for not honoring his promise. He wanted Kattegat at all costs. So, he kept planning attacks and at nights, drowned his pain in alcohol.

But alcohol would not help him. You sighed as Harald was gulping his fifth cup of ale.

“The King seems upset these days, don't you think ?”

You turned your eyes away from Harald to look at Rae who was frowning at you.

“He is. He must be thinking about Queen Astrid.” Among other things.

She eyed you up and down. “You look tired. The King is keeping you awake ?”

She smiled knowingly. You wished you could tell her the reasons why you were looking so tired: the King's nightmares constantly waking you up or maybe it was the fact that you did not manage to fall into a deep sleep because he was so close to you. But you couldn't tell her so you smiled weakly. Let her believe what she wanted to.

“Yes, he is.”

A concerned frown appeared on her face again. Thankfully, she did not have the time to question you. Baldwin put an end to your discussion and Rae fled quickly. That was your turn to frown. Was she scared of Baldwin ? Did he hurt her ?

“The King is asking for you. He wishes to go to bed.” He told you bluntly with an annoying smirk on his face. Everyone appeared to believe you and the King were having wild nights !

You ignored him and rose up to take King Harald to bed. As usual these days, he was a bit tipsy. Tipsy meant touchy-feely. Touchy-feely meant you were embarrassed and even more clumsy then ever.

When the both of you were finally lying down, you let out a discreet sigh of relief. He would fall asleep very soon and your usual “wild nights” would begin.

“I killed my brother.”

That was unusual. You gulped and your eyes widened. You finally got what was bothering him.

“I see him every night in my nightmares, again and again. He was one of the only persons I loved and I killed him.”

His voice was shaking. You knew there were probably tears as well even if you could not see them.

“He chose Björn over me, everyone has always chosen someone else over me. Ellisif, my brother, Astrid... the only persons I've loved in my whole life and they betrayed me.”

Tears were silently rolling down your cheeks, mirroring your King's sorrow and bitterness.

“And now....I'm all alone. Neither loving, nor being loved.”

I love you, your heart screamed but your ignored him. You inhaled deeply and chased your tears away with a flick of your hand. You couldn't fall apart. Not here. Not now.

Harald turned on his side and arranged your body so that you were facing him. His hand on your hip was burning. More even so when his thumb began stroking you. His mesmerizing blue eyes were staring at you, full of pain and despair. You did your best to remain untouched by it, playing the perfect passive thrall.

“I regret killing him. Deeply. I miss him so much.” His grip on your hip tightened and he closed his eyes in pain. “The Gods are punishing me for what I did.”

That made you talk. “You were in a battle. Your brother was on the other side, he was the enemy. You did what you had to do.”

He opened his eyes abruptly. “Don't lie to please me.”

“I'm not lying, my King.” Saying it, you realized it was true.

“Do you think Lagertha killed my wife for the same reason ?”

You frowned. “She did ?” You did not remember him mentioning Lagertha was the one to end his wife's life.

“Astrid was a great shieldmaiden, only the woman who taught her everything would be able to do it.”

He had a point. But did Lagertha do it or did Astrid welcome death willingly ? After all, Baldwin had told you she might have betrayed Harald.

“I probably loved her more than she did but it did not matter. It felt nice to have someone next to me to reign over Vestfolk, someone to love, someone to have in bed with me at night, someone to have sex with.”

His tone chaned through his speech, turning hoarse and seductive. You felt scared....and excited.

“Don't you agree ?”

“Yes, my King.” You nodded. “I suppose it must be nice.”

“What do you mean by 'I suppose' ? You've never loved anyone ?”

You could have slapped yourself, realizing you had said too much. Now, you had no choice but to answer his questions.

“Well I... I've almost always been a servant, a slave, a thrall. Our purpose is not to love or be loved. We are here to serve, obey and be used.” All the words came out of your mouth in a casual way so that he would not ask more and let it go. He did not.

“You've never been willing for anything, haven't you ? Sex ? Touch ? Not even a kiss ?”

“No, my King.” You replied, maintaining an unaffected tone.

The way he was looking at you made you feel ill-at-ease. Drop the subject, drop the subject.

“Would you be willing to try and kiss me ?” His eyes, his mesmerizing eyes...

Say no, say no. “Yes, I would.” You replied softly, cursing your heart for winning this battle against your brain.

The King moistened his lips and leaned over you. You shivered in anticipation, you heart was hammering in your chest. He pulled you nearer and you put your arms against hist chest.

When his lips finally touched yours, you swore your heart stopped beating for a second. His kiss was so soft, you did not know such tenderness could exist. The tip of his tongue gently touched your bottom lip, coaxing you into opening your mouth....which you gladly did. Your tongues danced with each other, even if Harald took the lead.....as if he was teaching you how to kiss. You had never felt this way. For the first time, it was pleasurable.

Harald let his hand slide on your body to grip your ass and pulled you even closer. The bulge in his pants was more than palpable but for once, it was not frightening. Your arms were still against his chest. You did not dare touching him without his permission, even though you were dying to. Lost in your own pleasure, you let out a tiny moan to which he grunted in response.

Soon, too soon, your lips parted. Your chest was rapidly rising, your breath was erratic. That was some kiss !

“Was it pleasurable ?” Your king asked, his hoarse voice making you shiver again.

You nodded. “Yes, my King.”

He smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes. “I guess you don't kiss too bad, Y/N the heartless.”

His lips grazed yours one last time before he turned around and immediately fell asleep.

You lay on your back , eyes wide opened, your contented heart beating softly. Deep down though, you knew it would not last.

He did not mention the kiss after that. You kept sleeping next to him but he was offering you his back. There was no talking, no touching. It was obvious to conclude he regretted what he did. Yet, you could have sworn you had seen him watching you, or your lips, when you were looking for him.

But maybe it was just your imagination or your deepest heart's desire. How ironical it was that the only man whose touched you've ever longed for was the one refusing to do so. Your brain was ready for this rejection. Your heart, not so much.

From then on, each day was difficult to live. Harald lost himself in his plot against Ivar and departed for England, leaving you with Baldwin again. Apart from the jealous thrall, Ardith, glaring at you from a reasonable distance, nothing important took place.

Harald came back, defeated this time but more determined than ever. A new son of Ragnar, Magnus was with him. The King took him under his wing. Another Ragnarsson was here, Bjorn Ironside. And there was this shield maiden, Gunnhild. Harald couldn't keep his eyes off her. You knew this stare too much. Maybe she would be the right one this time, maybe you would be free very soon.

Your heart was suffering at this idea but you knew it would be best for your sanity. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

In the mean time, you felt numb. The will to cry had deserted you, you only wished to sleep and forget.

Another night, another feast. Standing next to your king, you served him blindly, waiting for him to call it a night. He was looking intently at his new love interest and Bjorn interacting.

“Y/N, go to bed. There are some things I need to do.”

A dismissal. Again. “Yes, my King. Good night”. You bowed respectfully and left the Great Hall with a heavy heart.

He was going to ask Gunnhild to be his queen and she would be crazy not to accept. Then, he would sell you. You would probably go back to a new violent master. It was not scary. Your body would bear what your heart was not able to.

Lost in your own thoughts, you did not hear or see the three shadows behind you. A hand was put over your mouth and someone threw you over his shoulder. Panicking, you tried to fight back and received a huge blow on your head for doing so.

“Do not make a sound or you will regret it.” Another one said in your ear. To prove his point, he pressed a knife on your skin. You stopped every motion and let yourself be carried away.

They walked into the woods and when they decided they were far enough, you were roughly dropped on the floor. Your back hit the ground, leaving you breathless for a moment. You managed to sit up and stared at your attackers. Three male thralls you had already doing the outdoor works.

“What to do with you ?” You recognized the one who had threatened you earlier. A huge dark-haired man with golden skin.

“What do you mean ? We know what we have to do: get rid of her.”

“Yeah. She said, get rid of the body but she did not tell anything about not having fun with it before.” He was watching with a raw hunger in his eyes. “You promised we would get something since you're the only one to have your cock sucked on a daily basis.”

Who was this 'she'? And why did she want to get rid of you ?

��Fine, you can have her before we kill her.”

“We ?” The third one, slender and tall, exclaimed. “Your bitch asked for this. You kill her.”

“All right, but you don't touch her then.”

“Wanna bet ?”

That was your chance to escape. Distracted by their argument, they forgot about you. You silently stood up and slowly stepped away but a branch you stepped on creak and the three men turned their heads towards you.

Desperate, you tried to run away from them but they managed to catch up with you pretty fast. Your hair was pulled and you were thrown on the ground. The huge thrall fell on you and spread your legs forcefully.

“Did you really think you could escape ?” He used his knife to rip your dress and exposed your skin to the cool air of the night.

The slender one suddenly appeared next to you and brutally kneaded your breasts while his playmate unbuckled himself and thrusted into you without warning.

It hurt. Your inner instinct was telling you to scream, fight but you did not. You were used to this type of assaults. You just had to wait until it was over and close your mind.

Nonetheless, your lack of reaction seemed to annoy them. They started hitting you repeatedly. You did not scream there either. You were used to this as well and endured it, blow after blow until you tasted blood in your mouth. You felt attacked everywhere but no sound came out of your mouth. If only they could knock you out before killing you. You would welcome death gladly. Death was the solution, it was your long awaited release.

No chores, no threats, no rape, no beatings, no Harald, no broken heart. You would be freed from everything. Finally.

You felt a sharp pain in your ribs, then nothing. He had probably used his knife to stab you. You were floating, your heart beat was weakening, tears were rolling down your face but you felt a smile stretching your lips.

You were seeing them now, his mesmerizing blue eyes that you loved so much were gently looking at you. You could leave peacefully. Your last thought was for your sweet Rae, praying that she would not be hurt when Harald would realize you were missing. Then, you fell into darkness.

Tagging: @naaladareia @therealcalicali @ilooklikeididyesterday @ivarslittlebadgirl @akamaiden @ivarswickedqueen @mblaqgi @peaceisadirtyword @thevikingsheaux @neeadinghugs @tephi101 @alhenablack @two-unbeatable-beaters

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CaptainCanary fic: (I Don’t Believe in) Destiny (Ch. 5 of 11)

Leonard Snart is back, finally pulled from the timestream where he's spent the last four years. But he wasn't alone, and the repercussions of that will echo through the Legends, the Time Bureau, and beyond.

And maybe, just maybe, they'll bring everything around full circle.

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

--

Ch. Five: Somehow We Find Each Other

People come and go, times change, and John will always be John. Sara shakes her head, though she also smiles, and glances at Leonard. He looks a bit nonplussed—and a little intrigued, fancy that—but shakes his head too, glancing back at her.

“Interesting fellow,” he drawls, crossing his arms. “Old flame?”

“Something like that.” Sara sighs, stretching, feeling her spine crack—and Leonard’s interested eyes on her. When she relaxes, she holds out a hand to him and—after a moment, in which she sees the old Leonard, the cold-hearted one whose preferred armor was to pretend not to care for anything, flicker behind his eyes—he takes it.

She’s living in the captain’s quarters now, and any trace of Rip is well and truly cleared out. Any trace of Ava—maybe not so much, although Leonard won’t know that. Probably.

He glances around the comfortable space, rolling his shoulders and clearly all too aware that he’s on this ship now without a single possession to his name. Mick had packed up his things, once, but Sara has no idea where they are—except for the one sweater hanging in the back of her closet, which she intends to keep.

“Nice,” comes the drawl. “Sure you wanna share?”

Sara considers him. “I know,” she says finally, picking up a comb from the bedside table just to have something to do with her hands, “that I might have overstepped there. But Mick was right; there’s not really much other space right now. We can get a room ready for you, but I figured until that...”

Her voice trails off. Damn it. Leonard’s not the only person here who wants someone beside him in the night right now.

“Not what I meant.” He steps closer, eyes dark, and studies her in return. “I’m not her, Sara.”

Mick’s been talking. And even after all this time, he’s too damned perceptive, and it stings. “That much is obvious,” Sara snaps back, regretting it immediately.

“Listen, Len...” She runs a hand over her face. “Ava and I were done, that way, long before I even knew you were alive. And I’ll always care for her, but we want different things...and I’m not always OK with some of the things she’s willing to do.” Testing on magical creatures, rebuilding the Oculus...becoming a Time Master?

A deep breath, and she looks up at him. “Yes, I’m sure I want you here. Not just because I know you’d prefer to have someone near you. I would too, but you’re not...not a substitute. You’re you, and I missed you. So...”

Her words run out, and Sara looks down at the comb in her hands, then sets it down again. When she looks back up again, Leonard’s taken a few steps closer, still watching her intently.

“Well. Everyone’s pretty busy right now, too busy to worry about clearing out a room for one long-lost crook,” he says after a moment, reaching up to just barely brush her jaw with his fingers. “So, we bunk together for now.” A pause. “And maybe, we decide we want it to stay that way. But no pressure.”

Sara closes her eyes at the touch. “No pressure,” she echoes, knowing already that it is what she wants. But he’s right, too. There are too many other things to worry about, and they’re both a bit emotionally strung-out at the moment.

“Still.” Leonard’s voice is barely a whisper, and Sara desperately wants a shower and a nice long nap, but that voice is doing things to her, and so is the arm that carefully snakes around her, an anchor, pulling her close against him. “Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it.”

The nap can wait.

*

“We need him back!” Druce actually has the temerity to raise his voice at her, the bastard, glaring and learning forward in a way that’s hard not to take as a threat.

Ava glares back coldly, folding her arms and remaining seated at her desk, just barely flicking a glance at the two guards behind Druce. They should, she thinks a bit distantly, be stepping forward in case the “prisoner” needs restraint right about now. But they’re not. That’s...odd.

“And we’ll get him,” she says calmly, ignoring that problem for the moment. “But right now, they’re blocking the time couriers, and we can't track the ship. That won’t last forever. We’re watching for them.”

Druce sniffs. Something’s changed, Ava thinks, something besides Snart’s appearance and escape. The former Time Master has gone from penitent, to matter of fact, to openly demanding.

So, she reaches for the upper hand again. “Perhaps it would be easier,” she points out, tone implying his own fault in this matter, “if we knew precisely what he stole. Perhaps we could obtain it separately.”

What you say he stole.

Now, where had that thought come from?

“That will not be possible.” Her tactic works somewhat, though. Druce hesitates, and then his expression drops into something a great deal more rueful. “It is...” he says slowly, “rather hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

For a beat, she thinks he will. But then Druce shakes his head again, though at least he seems wholly more reasonable. “I will,” he says calmly. “But not yet.” He bows his head. “May I return to the library, Director Sharpe? It all has to do with my research on how to fix this.” The look he gives her might be sincere. Might. “I should have it all worked out soon. And then, then I will tell you everything.”

Ava studies him, not happy with the matter. But she has a funny feeling that pressing this won’t go well either—and Snart is, after all, an admitted thief. Why should she doubt that he’d stolen something?

Len, Sara had called him.

“All right,” she says, nodding. “Please do.” A pause. “I will update you if there’s anything new.”

“Thank you, Director Sharpe.”

The oddly reticent guards guide him out, and Ava waits a beat or two before slumping back in her chair, just a little. She’s missing something, she thinks, staring at the spot on her desk where a photo of her and Sara once sat. How can she feel like she’s losing the upper hand over a man with no followers, no weapons, and no way out of this time? And why does she feel like she needs the upper hand, given that he’s trying to help, to provide the Time Bureau with a tool it desperately needs?

She closes her eyes, thinking of Druce’s description of how the Oculus can control time, tame it, turn it from a chaotic and tangled mess into something ordered. Linear. Controllable. How can that be bad? There’s so much over the past few years that could have been fixed so much more easily...

She’s not sure how long she sits there, thinking...or maybe dozing, just a little, it’s been a long few days...when there’s a rap on her door, which then opens.

“Director Sharpe?”

Gary hasn’t been much on active duty since the whole possession thing, but Ava trusts him enough to make sure he’s the person who’s keeping an eye on the bureau computers and the “blip” that is the Waverider in time. They can’t see precisely when and where it is, at the moment, but they can see that it’s there—and they’ll see where it finally ends up, eventually. The ship can’t shield from them indefinitely.

And Gary—he has his own connections with the Legends. He’ll report to her, and her alone. She wonders, again, why that’s a consideration that’s been nagging at her.

“Yes, Agent Green?” she asks, falling back on formality. “What is it?”

Gary sidles in the door, closing it firmly behind him, and approaches. There’s a mix of consternation and worry on his face, and Ava stands up, suddenly concerned.

“The Waverider, it...” He gulps. “Well, it sort of vanished.”

“I know we weren’t able to track...”

“No.” Gary holds his hands out. “Vanished. Poof. No blip. No sign of, um, destruction or trouble, just...gone.” He stares at her. “Director. What does that mean?”

Ava stares back. She runs through all the trouble she’s known the Legends and the Waverider to get into, and what they might be doing with their newest passenger.

She has no answers.

“I have no idea.”

*

The Refuge, from above, looks just like Sara remembers it. She wonders, briefly, if young Rip might still be there—or if her, Leonard, Mick or Ray’s childhood selves might be.

Gideon had been close-mouthed about where and when and how the Refuge was, even now, and Sara can’t quite blame her. She doesn’t really understand how the hidden complex and its time-isolated environs work, and right now, that's not really her focus.

The android version of Gideon demurs when invited to leave with the rest of them, and Sara, pretty sure she knows why, doesn’t argue. Some of the others—especially Charlie and John—show an inclination to hide in their rooms instead of going, but Sara ousts them anyway. She’s not sure why, but she feels like this is the sort of thing the Legends are going to need to face as a team—even if it’s a different team than it’d been on their last visit.

The path is the same, the house is the same, even the faint, happy yells of children are the same. Sara takes a deep breath, inhaling the same scent of flowers and greenery as she leads the Legends toward the entrance. She feels Leonard’s arm bump hers, and she gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. It feels wrong, to be here without Rip.

But they need to know more, and this is the best thing Sara could think of.

As they approach, a tall figure appears at the top of the stairs, just like before, and Sara halts, the others stopping with her. Mary Xavier gazes down at them, her face stoic and calm for a long moment—before her expression breaks into a smile.

“Hello, my Legends,” she says. “I’ve been expecting you.”

*

Like before, Mary promptly ushers them into the house and into the parlor, but this time, they’re not immediately plied with tea. Leonard watches, a touch bemused, as the woman scans them all, then nods to herself as if marking them in her memory.

“All right,” she muses. “Ms. …  pardon me, Captain Lance, Mr. Snart, Mr. Rory, and yes, Dr. Palmer. Please come with me. My office isn’t really built for more, but you can report to the others.”

She briskly turns to those others before anyone can either think to take offense—or flee. “The rest of you, enjoy the house and grounds...and the kitchen. It’s fully stocked, of course, Ms. Tomaz.” She winks at Zari, then nods to Nate and Nora. “Mr. Heywood, Ms. Darhk, you may enjoy the library. There is, of course, a great deal of history, but also a few intriguing grimoires, Ms. Darhk. Nothing too dangerous, of course. But intriguing.”

As Nora blinks at her, she turns to the uncomfortable-looking Charlie. “My dear shifter, there’s a music room you might like to see, but, please—take care. Some of the things are rather old. There’s a full music library too, and I believe you’d enjoy that.”

Then, she turns to Constantine, who looks just as uncomfortable but who is just as clearly trying to conceal it under an insouciant smirk and a cigarette dangling from his lips. In a blink, though, the cig is gone, tossed into a wastebasket, and the mistress of the Refuge and the warlock called the Hellblazer consider each other for a long moment.

“Oh, my,” Mary says after a moment, though there’s amusement in her tone. “You’d best come with us, then. Less likelihood for trouble.” She claps her hands, and turns away, leading the bemused group of five Legends toward the stairs and upward as the others mill about.

The office is small, lined with shelves filled with books and other interesting objects, including an odd tool that looks a bit like a screwdriver and curiously draws the eye. Leonard’s fingers twitch, but he has a distinct feeling that if he tries to steal anything here, he’ll most certainly regret it. Instead, he parks his hip against a wall, folding his arms, right by the chair that Sara promptly takes, backing up her role as the current captain of the Legends.

Constantine drops into the other chair with a huff, slouching into it and putting his feet up as if to broadcast his irritation at being here. Mary Xavier rolls her eyes at him, then looks at Mick, who’s studying the shelves, and smiles.

“Hello again, Mr. Rory,” she tells him, giving him a smile. “I can tell you, at this meeting, that I enjoy your books very much.” The smile turns a touch sly. “There are copies in the library, although I do keep certain ones away from the children.”

Mick blinks at her. “Uh,” he manages. “Thanks.”

Mary glances around. “I do wish Gideon had come to the house,” she says with a sigh. “But...she’s afraid she’ll see young Michael, I’m sure.” She shakes her head, then moves behind the desk, takes a seat, and studies them.

“Well,” she says after a moment, “I knew you’d be coming. But the question is, is it not, why?”

She stops, waiting for a response right then and there, with an air of listening that’s more than the surface question seems to call for. Leonard hears Sara take a deep breath and glances down at her, noting the concern and worry on her face—but also the determination.

“How,” she says, carefully, “do we break the Time Masters’ loop without breaking time?”

Mary considers her—and then she smiles.

“Now,” she says with satisfaction, “that’s the right question. There are many smaller questions within it, of course, but that’s the right question at this time.” She nods. “There’s so much I could tell you, and we could get bogged down in it for days, but that’s the point of it all.”

“Then...there really is a loop?” Raymond blurts out. “Druce is right? He’s supposed to create the Time Masters from the Time Bureau?”

Mary glances at Mick, who shifts uncomfortably. “There is,” he says shortly, glancing at Sara. “Sorry, Boss. I didn’t get a chance to say back on the ship, but I matched a few people in the Time Bureau records with Time Masters.” He shrugs. “Travis O’Connell...Liri Lee...Ryder...Rayak...Jia Chén..." A shadow crosses his face. "Walker Gabriel. Couple others. With Druce, that’s more than half the High Council.”

Mary inclines her head. “Yes,” she says simply. “None of the High Council passed through my doors as children. They all came from the Time Bureau. Everyone since, however, has been brought to me by the originals, to raise up to become new Time Masters.”

Leonard glances at Sara again. The look on her face is blank and careful, but she nods. “What about Druce?”

Here, the other woman hesitates, just a little. “I don’t know,” she says finally. “I suspect he found himself a traveler in time through some other means, first. Before wrangling this loop to his advantage.” A pause. “He is...very old. Not older than me, of course, but old.”

Leonard eyes her, wondering, but Sara clears her throat. “ ‘Zaman’ is ‘time’ in Turkish,” she muses. “I don’t know about ‘Druce.’ ”

“I believe it to be a bastardization of a word for ‘druid’ in a very old Celtic language,” Mary tells her. “But when I first encountered him, he called himself ‘Archontas.’ ”

Constantine finally speaks. “ ‘Lord,’ ” he points out. “In Greek.”

Mary inclines her head. “Yes,” she acknowledges. “The grandiose adopted name of a child who grew up with, and as, nothing.” She sighs. “Whatever else he has been, he has always insisted on turning similar children into new Time Masters, giving them the power they never would have in their original homes. I have always wondered about that.” A shake of her head. “But enough of that. We were talking about time loops.”

She sweeps some of the books on her desk to the side—Leonard notes at least one by Rebecca Silver there, to his amusement—and pulls a large pad of paper toward herself, picking up a pencil with her other hand.

“The Time Masters, who have also been called the Linear Men, talk about ‘preserving the timeline,’ as if there’s only one true way for time to flow,” she says, drawing a flowing line around the borders of the top sheet. “Part of that is control, of course. They believe they’re more well suited than any others to determine what the so-called ‘proper’ timeline is.”

She studies the simple drawing, then looks back up at them. “Of course, not only are they rather misled in their drive for control, they’re not quite right about time. They look at time as a line, a singular pathway, when, actually, it’s more like...”

Mary pauses, a slight smile lingering at her lips. Leonard waits, glancing at Raymond, but when the other man doesn’t speak, he sighs, thinking about what the object on the bookshelf had reminded him of.

“...a big ball of, oh, wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff,” he finishes for her, drawling the words. “Right?”

Mary’s eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles at him. Raymond makes a startled noise and glances at him, as does Constantine, the latter with an appreciative chuckle. Mick grunts, and Sara merely lifts an eyebrow.

“Correct, Mr. Snart,” Mary says, inclining her head to him. “It’s not really set, and it’s not meant to be contained, not really.” She pauses. “Are any of you familiar with the concept of Hypertime?”

Raymond just about bounces in his chair. “Oh! Oooh! It’s like a…a web of timelines, right?” He glances around at the others. “Well, it’s sort of just a theory, but it’s an interesting one. It holds that there’s not really one true timeline, just like Ms. Xavier said.”

Mick snorts. “We know there are other Earths, Haircut,” he says. “Skirt’s from one of ‘em. Leo, too.”

Skirt? Leonard wonders briefly.

“No, it’s not quite the same as the Multiverse,” Raymond starts, but Mary looks up a hand, looking amused.

“Dr. Palmer, you’re correct,” she says, “but if we start getting into that…well, we’ll be here longer than we really should be.” Raymond makes a disappointed noise, and Leonard hears Sara chuckle quietly before she leans forward.

“So, what are you getting at?” she asks, in a clear bid to help Mary steer the conversation back. “This…Hypertime?”

Mary gives her a smile. “Well,” she continues, “think of Hypertime as the aforementioned ball of timey-wimey stuff. Timelines branching and reconverging and so on. Not the separate Earths of the Multiverse, but real in their own way nonetheless.” She pauses. “The temporal computer that the Time Master call the Oculus isn’t a bad thing, in and of itself. It allows for study and for pinpointing true problem spots and clearing up tangles. A window, not a weapon. But the Time Masters—as you know, they used it to control, and to bend people’s lives to their will.” She shakes her head. “And that…that never works out fully as the people doing the controlling think it will.”

There are no strings on me. Leonard smirks a little, and he thinks he sees her wink as him.

“So,” Mary continues. “In fact, perhaps the Oculus should exist. But the Time Masters…” She nods, once, in the silence. “Break the chain,” she says, and it’s almost a command. “Find a crack in what’s supposedly meant to happen. One little crack is all you need to start it.”

Raymond sits up straight. “But won’t that ruin everything? Rip won’t recruit us if there’s no Vandal Savage, no Time Masters.”

Constantine nods. “One little crack…that’s caused a lot of trouble,” he says laconically. “Broken nations. Worlds. More.”

Leonard feels a chill run down his spine as he glances at Sara. Despite everything…he doesn’t really want to undo the past five years, doesn’t want to go back to what he was. He glances at Mick, who looks blank. No, Mick wants to do that even less, if possible.

“But that’s the point, in a way. Of Hypertime. If you do this right...” And for some reason, Mary’s watching Leonard intently here, and he shifts uncomfortably. “...you’ll unmoor the time going forward from the past. Separate it. Time will move on as it will. And the past is another country.”

“They do things differently there,” Mick murmurs, unexpectedly. Mary nods. Constantine hums thoughtfully. Raymond sighs. And Sara and Leonard look at each other before looking back at Mary.

“But…how?” Sara asks intently. “Do what right?”

But the older woman shakes her head. “I’ve said enough. It’s up to you now, my dears.” She stands. “Too much and I…I risk controlling too much myself. And I cannot do that. I cannot interfere to that degree.”

Sara opens her mouth to retort, but Leonard—who has certain admittedly ridiculous suspicions—does first.

“Why did you agree to work for them?” he asks, regarding her. “The Time Masters. If you disagree so much with what they are.”

Mary sighs, then gives him a small smile, as if she knows precisely what he’s doing. She probably does.

“I’ve been through enough war. Someone needs to care for the children,” she says quietly. “To teach them. I knew that, in time, that could change everything.” She nods. “And it did. One of those children, Michael Carter…Rip Hunter...became the man who brought you all together.”

[douxreviews]

American Gods - ‘A Prayer for Mad Sweeney' Review

"You have a story to tell." "Do I?" "I can see it in your fingers."

American Gods pauses in the penultimate episode of its first season to tell us a story. It's a really good story.

It seems like an odd choice, given that they only had eight episodes in the season to work with, that American Gods should devote almost the entirety of its penultimate episode to telling us an extended Coming to America sequence. It seems like even a stranger choice that they should have almost none of the regular characters appear or even be mentioned.

It should be an odd choice, but it isn't. For three important reasons:

- Neil Gaiman loves telling stories about stories themselves. That was roughly 85% of the Sandman comic's groove. It's not just about the story, it's about how stories themselves can affect a life.

- Essie MacGowan's life is a great story, and is very well told. It's actually surprisingly rare for a television show to excel in both of those things.

- When you actually break it down, this episode isn't just telling us Essie's story. It's also telling us Sweeney's story. And giving us a concrete example of how the old Gods ended up in America. It's demonstrating how the old beliefs die. It's showing us how belief can shape the course of a life, and how it can bring comfort as that life passes. It's telling us what Sweeney thinks about Laura, and why. It's showing us how his and Laura's relationship is evolving through the expediency of telling us the story of his relationship with Essie.  On a fundamental level, this episode completes Sweeney's emotional character arc. The Sweeney that puts his coin back in Laura's chest is not the Sweeney that broke into her hotel room only a few short episodes ago.

I just want to touch on Essie's story before we get into the Sweeney and Laura stuff, because there's one factor that makes it work really, really well. Essie was a servant girl who got her heart broken early, and then did what she had to for herself to survive. She stole without regret. She seduced the ship's captain in order to get back to England and then robbed him blind the second he left again, and she had what is implied to be a lot of sex with the gaoler in order to get pregnant and therefore not be hanged. They were all completely pragmatic choices that she made for herself. She enjoyed many of them and she didn't feel bad about any of them. And the show doesn't demonize her for any of it. Not even for a moment. All of the things she does which society would condemn are presented in exactly the same tone as her telling stories to her children, leaving cream out for the little folk, or being kind to a husband that she essentially conned into marrying her in order to get out of servitude, but whom she seemed to like well enough and whom she apparently made very happy.

None of these actions are presented as good or bad. They're presented, as a whole, as having been her life. Nothing more or less.

That said, the decision to have Emily Browning play both her usual role of Laura and that of Essie MacGowen was a brilliant move. Brian Fuller mentioned in the little after-show interview that they used to do that she has a gift for accents, and he is not wrong. Essie's Irish accent was every bit as believable as Laura's American accent. It was with some surprise that I discovered that she's actually from Australia, which means both are equally false. That's a real gift, as anyone who watched David Boreanez struggle with the task back in the day will attest.

Having Emily Browning play both characters explicitly tells us as viewers that we should be contrasting Sweeney's relationship with the two of them, and that choice really pays off. With Essie, Sweeney is roguish, charming, and open. He clearly treats her as, if not an equal, than at least a compatriot if not a friend. With Laura, Sweeney is bitter and cynical, clearly not thinking of her as being worth his time but being stuck with her in order to get her coin back. Just seeing the difference in him while he sits next to essentially the same woman tells us everything we really need to know about what the years have done to Mad Sweeney.

The mirror imagery serves the entire episode well, really. The usage of Fionnula Flanagan as both Essie's grandmother in the beginning and Essie herself at the end. The usage of Emily Browning as both the woman Sweeney liked and the woman he currently dislikes, and of course, the mirror car accident that finally brings Sweeney to his emotional catharsis. We all kind of assumed that Wednesday had caused the car accident that killed Laura, and that Sweeney was probably involved, right? Even so, as much of a not-surprise as that information was, it was right for them to hold it back until this point. Sweeney has witnessed Laura's kindness in letting Salim go. They've had the heart to heart in the ice cream van about having done bad things, and at that emotionally vulnerable point Sweeney is confronted with essentially the same visuals and experience as the car accident that he himself caused, which had murdered the woman whose animated corpse was currently sitting next to him. At this moment, and no other, he's presented with the thing he wants most. His coin has been knocked out of that same woman, the woman he murdered and who is herself an echo of a woman he liked very much. All he has to do is pick it up and walk away. And he can no longer do that.

That's a proper character journey, that is.

Two things that really seal this final moments into something special. First, thank you to the show for not translating for us whatever Sweeney screams at great length in Irish at this point. It can't possibly be as moving as what we're left to imagine for ourselves. And second, even more thanks for the choice to not have Sweeney tell Laura what he'd just sacrificed for her. As far as she knows she just got back up off the road and they're off again. That was the dramatically right choice.

Such a good story.

Quotes:

Mad Sweeney: "That’s what you get for putting a god in a petting zoo."

Laura: "So, do you love god, or are you in love with god?"

Mad Sweeney: "Can’t a man get a moment alone with his prick?"

Ibis: "Malice draped in pretty can get away with murder."

Essie: "I had my opportunity." Mad Sweeney: "Doesn’t seem right, just giving you the one."

Mad Sweeney: "We’re like the wind. We blows both ways."

Bits and Pieces:

-- The use of 50s music in the Essie scenes is there for a deliberate reason, despite being anachronistic. In visual storytelling, at this point in time, pop hits from the 50s indicate innocence. And more specifically, nostalgia for innocence. Not that the 50s were actually that innocent, but what can you do. The study of the use of symbols in a performed text is called 'semiotics,' if you were wondering. Tellingly, the music cues for Essie only become the 'appropriate' Irish period style when Sweeney comes to collect her at her death.

-- The three ships we first see deliberately visually invoke the whole Nina, Pinta, Santa Maria fairytale version of American history that we like to tell ourselves here in the US. Then it cuts to the interior and they're essentially slavers. A visual metaphor for American attitudes toward its own history. Discuss.

-- Were we supposed to infer that the coin that Essie gave Sweeney early on is his lucky coin that is currently in Laura's xiphoid process, or is it merely another visual echo? The sides we see of each don't match, but I don't think we see the other side of either.

-- Is Tatonka Ska supposed to be the buffalo that Shadow keeps seeing? Is he (she? They?) the 'proper' god of America?

-- I wonder if Pablo Schreiber was told when he got this part how much of it was going to involve public urination. That said, his losing an argument to a raven while he relieved himself was comedy gold. No pun intended.

-- It was sweet that Laura took the first opportunity to tell Salim where the Jinn was so that he could just go directly there and skip the rest of the road trip, but it's also hard not to read that just a little as 'We're not gonna need you for a bit, so why don't you take the rest of the season off and we'll meet you in the season two premiere, k?'

-- The implication seems to be that Essie kept forgetting to leave gifts for the leprechauns because she was too busy having sex. That's a tiny bit slut-shamey, but the episode doesn't dwell on it in any detail, so it's probably not intended as such.

-- The moment when Laura hands the ice cream truck driver everything from Sweeney's pocket and he politely takes the wallet back but leaves the money was a nicely staged bit of physical comedy.

-- This car accident was caused by a rogue bunny running in the road. We learn next week that the road bunnies are in league with Easter, who's all about renewal land rebirth. Did Easter just give Sweeney a push to facilitate some kind of spiritual renewal?

-- The title of the episode appears to be a reference to the novel A Prayer for Owen Meany, but unfortunately I've never read it so I can't speak much to it.  I'm not a huge Irving fan, to be honest.

A great story. A great episode. Sweeney and Essie's last conversation makes me cry every time.

Four out of four cups of the best cream

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

[yanjuniverse]

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He shuts down.

He doesn’t know if he wants to run away or stay right here forever so instead, he stares blankly ahead of himself as she throws her arms around his body and sighs.

It’s just that touch that causes him to come back down to earth and suddenly, everything he’s felt in the past four years is tumbling down on him all at once. His arms wrap around her as well as a sob rips through his body.

“M-Mom?” he whispers. “I thought -“ She holds him tighter, her own tears falling freely down her cheeks. “Mom,” he breathes again. The word tastes foreign on his tongue. It’s been so long since he’s uttered that word. He starts to cry harder, holds her tighter and starts to shake. “Mom, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” she smiles softly, pulling away to look at him.

He shakes his head and lets another sob escape his lips. “I’m sorry. I’ve hurt so many people in order to get to where I am today and-“ The look on her face is familiar. It’s the same one she always gave him when he was upset. It told him that she wasn’t upset. It told him that she would love him no matter what. “Mommy...”

“Are you happy, my son?” she whispers. “Because in the end, that is all that matters to me.” He sighs, staring at her some more. “What’s wrong? Why is there a look of regret in your eyes?”

He doesn’t have to explain much to her. Somehow, when he was growing up, his mom always just knew what was wrong with him. Whether it be he was being picked on or if he had scraped his knee - she was always there by his side before she could even call for her. He’s always looked at her like a superhero.

“I’ve just had a regretful life,” he says.

Just as he says that, a figure appears beside him.

“Xiao Gui.” It’s Xingjie, dressed in a nice suit. Linkai knows his time is running out now. “Shall we get going?”

“Can I have ten more minutes? Please? I’ll meet you at the gate,” he pleads.

Xingjie looks at the woman standing in front of him and raises his eyebrow. “I assume you’re his mother,” he says, smiling. “I’ve heard many things about you, ma’am. I am honored to have your son work under me.” It’s the least asshole-y tone Linkai has ever heard him speak in but it’s genuine. He’ll give that to him. Xingjie turns back to him and nods his head, “Very well. Ten minutes.”

Linkai and his mother are left alone once again.

Little does he know though that standing a distance away is a girl whose heart aches. How badly she wants to go up to him, to shove him in the chest then kiss him. She watches him and smiles to herself. This had to be the happiest he’s been in so long. She couldn’t break up the moment. She instead, watches and admires the boy she had fallen in love with.

“Mommy,” he says. “The way the universe works is so complicated. How many important people I’ve met in such a short amount of time, I can’t count. And now I have you again.”

She hums, “But that isn’t why you are regretful, is it?” she whispers.

He smiles sadly. “Have you ever met the right person at the wrong time?” he asks.

“Linkai,” she sighs.

“I love her, Mommy. I thought about it all night last night and I know that now. But I’ve realized it too late and now she probably hates me.”

“She couldn’t possibly,” his mother replies.

“How do you know?” he frowns.

“Because I brought her with me today,” she gestures behind herself.

Linkai’s eyes flick up and he sees her. It’s actually her. The girl that has been driving him up and down the walls was sitting a ways away and staring at the floor.

“How did you-“

“She and her friends come to buy fruits from me almost every week. One day, while I was talking to her, she had shown me something on her phone and the photo on the lockscreen was a picture of you. It was then that I knew that my prayers were answered and that you would be taken care of. So many days, she would come and ask me for advice and I would tell her exactly how to take care of you.”

“You mean this entire time, she’s known you were my mother?” he asks.

“No. She actually just found out right now,” she smiles. “She’s the one for you, Linkai. I just know it.”

“How could you be so sure?” he frowns. “We’re still so young.”

“A mother just knows,” she says before looking down at her watch. “You have five minutes left. Go talk to her. Mommy will wait here.”

“I don’t know if I should-“

“Trust me. She wants to talk to you just as much as you want to talk to her.”

Linkai scratches the back of his head and sighs. His knees are shaking as he slowly trudges towards her. She never once looks up until she sees his shoes toe to toe with hers. She looks up at him and bites her lip nervously.

“Hey,” he says stupidly. “I mean - not hey. I mean - you know my mom?”

She nods her head, “The world is small.”

He hums, “But not small enough to where I could’ve met you earlier.” She smiles sadly at that. “I care about you, you know that. Right?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “I know it’s why you kept this a secret for so long.”

He nods back, biting his lip.

I guess it’s now or never, he thinks.

“And that I love you. Right?” His words cause her to look up with wide eyes. “I know I always say that we’re too young to know about love but I love you. I love you so much that if you told me to stay right now, I will. I would drop everything for you right now because I love you and I’ve been in love with you for so long. I started to fall the moment you did and I kept denying it because I was more scared to hurt you than if I got hurt but I can’t get you out of my mind and it’s like the whole world is crashing down on me sometimes and somehow, you’re always the first person I look for. And it’s so so stupid that I just had to meet you now when all of this is happening but I still have three minutes and if you tell me to stay then I’ll stay. I’ll stay with you and go home and we can make youtube videos and cuddle and bake and do whatever you want. I’ll give all of this up for you, YN. I will. Just tell me to and I’ll do it.”

“No.”

“No?” he repeats.

“I don’t want you to stay,” she replies. Just as the look of hurt starts to cross his face, she rests her hand on his cheek and he instantly leans into her touch. “Because I love you, I won’t hold you back. I’ll let you go out, live your dream and I’ll support you through it all. Because I love you, I won’t deprive you of this.”

“But-“

“Linkai,” she whispers. “I want you to leave me. I want you to go out there and become a rapper. You’ve worked so hard for it and I’m not going to ruin this for you.”

He searches her eyes for a moment. For a split second, he wants to yell at her and ask if she’s in her right mind but then he takes a breath and thinks about it for a second. And he understands that if had the roles been reversed, he would’ve done the same thing.

“Remember our promise?” She nods. “Don’t wait for me, okay?”

“I won’t,” she replies.

He stares at her for a moment before smiling softly. “You know, I used to really hate this town. I hated all the bad memories it plagued. I couldn’t wait to leave this life behind. I swore to myself that I would never return but...I think I’ll have to come back from time to time,” he whispers, leaning in.

“You’ll text me when you do, right?” she asks.

“Nah,” he teases. She giggles and wraps her arms around his neck. He bumps his nose with hers and smiles. “I should’ve called you mine when I had the chance.”

“Then you would’ve had to break up with me,” she pouts. “Trainees can’t date, remember?” He hums. “But,” she says. “If you ever come back here after your debut and decide to ask me our properly, I can’t say I’d be completely opposed.”

“Maybe we can go get some green tea. Since we’re such the perfect matcha,” he grins. She rolls her eyes at that. His eyes searches hers before he finally laughs to himself. “We’ll find each other again.”

“I’ll be your biggest fan,” she says. “Send me backstage tickets to your first concert, okay?”

“Definitely.” He leans in even closer, her breath ghosts against his skin. “YN?” he whispers.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” he says right before he crashes his lips against her, cherishing every last second he could.

He will be hers one day, he knows it. This isn’t the end and for once, he’s excited to see what the future holds for him.

a/n: one more chapter guys 😭

QOTC: what’s your favorite song at the moment?

my answer: i’ve had I Like It by Cardi B stuck in my head for the past week

[tonystarktogo]

Rule#36: Don’t kill anyone (unless Tony asks you to)

As a hitter it’s your job to take your opponents down. You don’t set out to kill them, precisely, but you know not all of them will get up again. It’s part of the job.

Until it isn’t.

(Part of the Leverage Stuckony AU: Pre-Any relationship. Mostly delves into Bucky’s (and Tony’s) backstory and his adjustment when he first joins the crew.)

Do I need to warn for very questionable almost non-existent morals and murder? Because there’s quite a bit of that. It was fun to write, if a bit darker than the last one in this verse.

Part I To Kill Or Not To Kill

Bucky’s first kill is legal. Technically. His country will forgive him, at least, and that’s all that’s supposed to matter when you’re in the service, isn’t it? It doesn’t help him sleep at night, but then things go wrong too fast to get them right again, and he’s too busy surviving to mourn the boy he used to be, in too much pain to notice the weight of guilt on his soul. He makes it, one of the few who do, but even after, he never quite gets around to--regret? until far later down a road too bloody to ever fully turn your back on.

Bucky’s twenty seventh kill is a necessity. There’s a difference there, and it matters. Except that’s hard to remember when his ass is covered by more loopholes than he cares to remember, edited reports and deals made under the table. A special unit, they call it. Secret missions, they call it. A slippery slope is what it is, and Bucky doesn’t know whether he trusts himself not to lose his balance after all. Doesn’t stop him though. He shakes the right hands, kills the right people and doesn’t give himself the chance to think about his choice until his actions have already made it for him. 

Pulling the trigger, throwing the knife, hitting the right place, pressing down just long enough--the books lie about that. It doesn’t get any easier. What they forget to tell you is that maybe, it’s not all that hard to begin with. How vulnerable humans really are.

Bucky tells himself he’s doing the right thing at least. Makes hard choices, yes, but fulfils his missions, follows his orders, and even if he doesn’t always know the reasons, he’s got to trust there are some. 

Then there is the kid. 

He stops telling himself any of it is right after that one. Stops counting. Stops trusting his orders too. Doesn’t stop following them though (doesn’t stop killing), and maybe there has always been something a little broken inside him after all.

Natasha Romanoff isn’t the kind of person you want to owe a favour. She’s the kind of woman even more dangerous than beautiful, but more than that, she always demands her due.

When she calls him one day at three in the morning Bucky isn’t happy, but he takes his debts serious. It’s not that hard a mission either. A standard retrieval from the vault of a too-influential corporation, the only snag being that it has to be done within five hours--not a lot of room for mistakes. Still not the kind of job Romanoff would have wasted a favour on, which means that he’s either being kept in the dark about something or Romanoff is desperate.

Both, as it turns out.

For one, the ‘item’ in need of retrieving turns out to be a Tony. The Tony. Brilliant thief with a mind sharp enough to match Bucky’s favourite knives and a cackling laugh that’s just a little disturbing. Trapped in an airtight vault, which explains the deadline. 

Getting both of them out alive is easier and harder. Easier because Bucky’s got an escape artist with him. And harder because Bucky’s got an escape artist who won’t fucking stop giving him the slip with him.

Then they run into security goons--all ex-CIA because of fucking course they are--and Bucky doesn’t hesitate for a second when he finally manages to wrestle a gun out of one of the men’s grip, shoots the guy about to blow Tony’s brain out straight between the eyes with unnerving accuracy, makes quick work of the rest. He doesn’t kill them all, he thinks, but he doesn’t stick around to check either.

Tony watches him carefully, eyes blank. He doesn’t try to run again. Bucky doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“You’d still be hurting people, but this time only the one’s who deserve it,” the Romanoff says calmly.

It’s not the first lie she tells him, but it’s one Bucky doesn’t mind. (He’s killed two people today alone, neither of them bad, just in the wrong place and the wrong time in the wrong job.)

He agrees all the same.

They have a new mission two weeks later. Bucky meets the third crew member for the first time. Clint Barton looks unremarkable--which Bucky suspects is part of his job--and seems unable to open his mouth without making at least one stupid joke or suggestive comment. Tony doesn’t spare him so much as a glance. Bucky decides not to ask why he’s standing on the desk in the corner of the room, though he makes sure never to fully turn his back on him. He also doesn’t ask about the missing crew member--probably a hitter--whose place he’s taking.

Romanoff keeps the briefing short and to the point. 

“Try not to kill anyone, Barnes,” she adds at the end. It’s the first time she’s addressing him directly. Bucky wonders if this is what’s supposed to convince him he’s working for the good guys now.

He doesn’t shoot anyone this time, but when he rams the head of one of the mark’ goons against the nearest wall he knows this man isn’t gonna get up again. He’s less sure the others know it too.

The first time Bucky notices Tony watching him, he’s supposed to disable the alarm while Bucky deals with the unwelcome surprise left for them by their mark’s paranoia. He’s fighting quick and dirty, unwilling to give the goons the chance to pay attention to the smaller man working his magic on the electronic key pad, except he’s not.

He’s staring. At Bucky.

It’s not a stare Bucky knows how to deal with. There is no lust--that’s happened a couple of times, especially during run-ins with people of similar professions--and neither is it fear. It’s something else.

When the last goon’s out, the door is already swinging shut behind Tony, and Bucky just barely manages to catch it before he’s locked out.

He’s starting to suspect that this is the way Tony deals with embarrassment.

And well. Since Tony’s watched him, Bucky figures it’s only fair he returns the favour when they find their mark’s predictably hidden safe. It’s got nothing to do with the wide, unrestrained smile on Tony’s lips when he’s locked in a battle with a system designed to keep him out.

Nothing at all.

“Just put a bullet into Ferrington’s head, the operation will fall apart without him,” Bucky points out doing one of their less fruitful meetings. “Then pick off the rest before they got a chance to regroup.”

It’s an obvious solution, as far as he’s concerned.

His suggestion is shot down in favour of a convoluted plan that almost costs Barton his life. Because this isn’t how they do things, apparently. Being the good guy sure does come with a lot of constrictions.

The crew warms up to him eventually. Barton begins to share some actual facts about his life that don’t involve light-hearted jokes. Romanoff stops reaching for her concealed gun every time he enters the room. Tony offers him his coffee. He drinks it with more sugar than should be physically possible and it takes all of Bucky’s self-control not to spit this shit back into the cup, swallow it instead. 

The tiny smile on Tony’s face is worth it.

Tony is still watching him and Bucky is still watching Tony back and both of them still pretend they haven’t noticed the other watching them. It’s a bit of a mess, but with the way their life works, it’s the least dangerous one Bucky’s gotten himself entangled in for a long time.

At least he hopes it is.

(And when did he start hoping again?)

Bucky doesn’t know when he first begins to like Tony. He knows when he realises it though. It happens during yet another beating he needs to dish out because evil henchmen are unable to stay down when he puts them there, except this time the inevitable happens: he’s too slow. One of them slips past him, gets his arms around Tony’s throat and for one terrible second everything stills.

Then the man’s on the ground, twitching and screaming, and Tony’s smile as he waves at him with a definitely enhanced taser is nothing short of insane, and Bucky remembers how to breathe again.

(He also remember to relieve Tony of that taser after they’re safely back at their HQ because the way Tony keeps eyeing him is nothing short of worrisome. He’s surprised Tony lets him.

He’s a lot less surprised when Tony steals the taser back just a couple of minutes later.)

Despite her lies and the fact that Romanoff is a fucked up bitch in general, Bucky has to admit she’s right after all. There are no hits anymore, no collateral damage that eats at Bucky in ways the people he’s killed directly don’t. There are deaths and there is collateral damage, but it’s. Different.

(No kids. Kids were always the hardest.)

It’s nice to be--well, not the good guy. There’s too much blood on his hands, too much violence in his heart to ever pass as one of those. But a better version of the man he’s used to being.

And when Tony giggles gleefully as he unlocks yet another safe just for fun’s sake, when he gets into another argument with Barton because the bastard won’t stop touching the remote with greasy hands, when Romanoff watches them with that detached sort of satisfaction after another exhausting but successful job, he thinks that maybe these, these are the kind of people he won’t regret dying for.

He gets a call one night, one of the burners that won’t be tracked back to him. Another job, nothing unusual. Except.

“I don’t do that anymore,” Bucky declines. It feels strange, saying the words out loud for the first time. Really strange.

Bucky thinks he might grow to like it though.

He hasn’t picked up a gun in months. Hasn’t pulled a trigger even longer. And despite everything, he’s still surprised how little he misses it. Even more surprised to find himself hoping he won’t ever have to get back to it again.

(He will though. Bucky knows he will. He just doesn’t expect it to be so soo--)

Sorry, I couldn’t resist the hint of drama at the end. Also not sure if there’s gonna be a second part, but I like this ‘verse and was in the mood to play with it a little more. Would you guys be interested in more? And if so, anything specific? Or if not, what else would you like to see? I hope you’re having an enjoyable weekend!

[rctribvtn]

jamaia the sequel || jace & maia

also known as the one where jace gives maia an idea re: what she’s getting herself into by procreating with him. it’s not all that pretty. @weremaiia  { set after the chatzy earlier this week with sebastian/camille turning up }

maia getting into her apartment, maia glanced over at jace as he moved behind her. the ride from magnus' to the lightwoods and now her place was longer than she imagined it would be but they had barely spoken after the mess that happened with their friends. she sighed, moving to take a seat on the couch as she kept her eyes on him. "jace?" she questioned as she tried to read him.

Jace hadn't even realized that she'd said his name until it clicked in that she was staring at him. he'd been lost in his thoughts, still back at magnus' apartment staring at someone he'd thought had to be long gone. dead, maybe, or fostered through the system - never to be seen or heard from again. but no, he'd been right there, standing a few feet away from him, and that smug look on his face had him seeing red. but he'd been unable to say a word - the mere mention of his father enough to freeze him in place. "huh?" he blinked, trying to clear the haze from his mind. "sorry, what'd you say?"

maia didn't want to pry but jace had been silent since the mention of a certain name back at magnus'. she didn't know much about his life but she had heard some stories. it must have been one of those that he stored in the back of his mind and never explored again. she shook her head as he answered her. "i just said your name."

Jace nodded as he took a seat on the couch beside her, a hand coming up to run through his hair. "right, sorry. you feeling okay?"

maia watched him closely but nodded at his comment. "i feel a lot better. my stomach was all over the place earlier. what about you? who was that guy?"

Jace leaned back against the sofa cushions, fingers twisting a stray string from his jeans as he spoke. "good. i didn't want to say much back there, otherwise everyone would figure out what was going on." her question about the guy was a loaded question, one he wasn't sure how to explain. "his name's sebastian." he replied after a moment's pause. "i haven't seen him since i was ten years old."

maia lifted a hand to rest in the space between the two of them, nodding to him as he spoke. "how do you know him?"

Jace reluctantly spit out, "he knew my father. i didn't see him much."

maia let her head fall to the side as she kept her eyes on him. "what does that mean?"

Jace knew that he owed her an explanation. she hadn't been around through the worst of it - the trial, the depositions, his private life exposed over the front pages of newspapers for all to see. sometimes he forgot that not everyone knew about valentine - that they were able to live in blissful ignorance. as much as he wanted to keep it all locked away, hidden from the light of day, he knew that he couldn't do that. she was a part of this now - she was stuck with him, at least for the next 18 years. she deserved to know what she was getting into. so he told her - about his father's time in the military, how his mother had died in childbirth and all he'd ever known was valentine, how he could be ​cruel​ one moment and kind the next, leaving his head spinning and a sour taste in his mouth. how his associates were always coming and going, and how he'd seen sebastian around the compound more than once. he didn't know who he was, or whose son he was, but valentine had always paid him attention. he'd been jealous as a kid, but he wasn't now. would he have ended up like sebastian if he'd stuck around valentine? "he was a terrible person, my father. he destroyed families, tried to start a war," he shuddered. "but he's my father. whether i like it or not." he didn't tell her that he still saw him. no, that was his cross to carry. an obligation that he hadn't been able to shake no matter how many years had passed.

maia wasn't sure how to react to jace's news. it was all kind of scary but she was proud of the guy that made it out of the worst part of his life. being from another state, maia was never informed about valentine through her entire life. she wasn't informed about much and didn't have much contact outside of her bedroom. her childhood was nothing like jace's but it was pretty terrible, thus the running away. she didn't know what to say to him, how to soothe him but she was going to be there for him if something arose with sebastian. she sat up straighter, reaching for his hand. "listen, that is all in the past. you're obviously better than both of them. you've overcome all that mess. that's the best we can do, right? overcome the worst and find ourselves. the lightwoods were good for you. they helped you a lot. valentine is just a memory. and you're not going to be anything like him. pregnant or not, i'll kick your ass if you try." she laughed a little but sighed to herself. "i'm sorry you had to go through all of that, though. it must have been rough."

Jace knew that he was lucky. while he'd been resistant at first when the lightwoods had taken him in, he'd grown to appreciate everything they'd done for him and it had made him a better person. he didn't regret a single thing. but seeing sebastian brought all that back and if he was partnered with magnus' psychotic ex, well, it didn't bode well. "you're right. i just didn't expect to see him there. " he admitted. "i never expected to see any of them, ever again. most of his associates disappeared after he was arrested." he squeezed her hand when she took it within her own, finally looking up and meeting her gaze. "no ass kicking required. i won't be like him."

maia while maia really didn't want help in her own life at the time she got arrested, she was grateful years down the road that luke was the one that helped her get her shit together. she wasn't a part of their family but at least she had people she could call friends, now. everything with the pregnancy seemed so obsolete when she heard jace's story. "i don't think anyone expected to see either of them. they were all pretty ambushed, especially magnus." her stomach jumped up to her throat when he squeezed her hand. no, maia, control yourself. "that's good. i'd probably make you feel worse than the bruise magnus left. i, too, have a killer hook. or so i've been told."

Jace had to laugh at that. "yeah, no, i'd believe it. i dont think my face can take anymore ​damage​ today." he vowed to text alec later, make sure that magnus was okay. from what he'd heard in passing about camille, he wasn't bound to be in the best place. "hopefully we've seen the last of them. but if history has taught me anything, people you don't want to see don't just disappear." he sighed. "not without a fight."

maia lifted a hand to touch jace's face, checking out the damage. "it's not as pretty right now. such a shame. how will you ever get dates now?" she was hoping that he wouldn't but if she knew him at all, it was probably the opposite. she let the smile fall from her face as she looked away from him. "so, we fight them off and keep magnus safe. i've no doubt that alec could take someone down but he shouldn't have to."

Jace raised his eyebrows, only wincing slightly when her fingers ghosted over the bruises on his face. it looked worse than it felt, but it certainly didn't tickle. "if i was looking for a date, it'd probably help me out." he pointed out. "chicks dig bad boys." it dawned on him then that he hadn't really seen anyone since they'd started sleeping together - not consciously, it had just never panned out. maybe that meant something, but with everything going on... was it really the time to think about that? "exactly. you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us. that's how it works."

maia rolled her eyes at jace's comment but kept her hand on his face. it was an okay looking face. she was glad for magnus defending her but really, it wasn't necessary. "you're terrible. vapid girls like bad guys. not all of us are like that." she put her hand down, resting it on her leg. she lived for the bantering between the two of them, isn't that how she got herself into this mess in the first place? "i love that about all of you. you have each other's backs no matter what. i've never had anything like that before."

Jace snorted. "really? no offence, but," he gestured between the two of us, "how do you explain this, then?" her words caused his brow to furrow ; was she blind? "you know you've got that too, right?" he questioned. "if anyone ever hurt you, there'd be a line of people waiting to help you bury the body. this," he gestured to his face, "only proves that. you're one of us. you have been for awhile."

maia shook her head in mock horror. "i am not vapid, jace lightwood! i am a smart and independent woman that does not need a man or woman to be in my life for happiness. though, it's kind of nice." she rolled her eyes again. "i don't know how to explain this but it's probably something about you being good looking and charming. i'll never be able to explain it. i tried to resist. i really did. i tried to kick you out but here you are. seems like all the time lately." not that she was complaining. she shrugged at his next comment though. "yes, i know. i meant before i met all of you. i still don't like the idea of people fighting because of me, though."

Jace rolled his eyes. "i wasn't implying that you're vapid. my point was that it's not ​only​ vapid girls who fall for my charm." he was well aware that they were still holding hands but he didn't pull it away - against his own reservations, he ​did​ have feelings for her... and while he wasn't sure that she felt the same way, they were in a good place. he wasn't about to mess with that. "just admit it, roberts. you're getting used to having me around." he chuckled. "eh, you'll get used to it. we're ride or die - all of us."

maia the more maia hung out with jace, the more she started to like him. it was almost a problem at this point. she felt bad for ditching him at work when she was sick and even for being so mean before she knew anything about him. she was grateful for his honesty and would tell him about her life eventually but right now it seemed so minuscule. she did like jace lightwood, though. he was growing on her. "you better not. i'm not one of those sorority girls that you bat your eyes at. i'm sure i fell for something other than the charm." she glanced down at their hands, feeling comfortable in the moment. she didn't want to let go. she wanted to protect him from the bad in his life. "yeah, i better get used to it if i'm not already. since you're not going anywhere for a while." she nodded. "i've noticed. it's comforting though."

Jace knew that she was right. "not for awhile, no." he parroted. "you've got me for 18 to life, depending on how badly we screw this kid up." it was odd to be so glib about the prospect of being a parent - but he knew they'd be okay. his family would be supportive, he knew that was true, and now that he'd sorted out a few of the messier details of his life he felt a little more in control. like maybe they could really do this. "i know you're not like the other girls," he rolled his eyes at his own words, "as cliché as that sounds. if you were, we would've had sex that night and never talked about it again." like i always do, he mentally added. but something about her had been different, and a part of him knew that she had felt it too. "it's not bad, knowing you've got a safety net."

maia wasn't upset about the prospect of having jace around through everything. she was still in the early stages and there were so many appointments that needed to be scheduled to check the progress of the baby but she wanted to wait until she told him to set anything up. plus, she had to coordinate with both of their schedules. it was going to be a lot of work. "well, we're both pretty screwed up so i doubt it will be hard to mess up his or her life." maia was glad for someone that actually wanted to be involved. any of her other exes would have told her to lose it or checked themselves out of the situation. "i did try to do that but you kept showing up at my work like a stalker." she teased. she was glad they hadn't stopped. she would never admit that to him, though. glancing down at their hands again, she knew it was more than sex. "yeah, it is nice. having real friends is good."

Jace couldn't fight the wry smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "great. we'll be paying for therapy until he - or she - is thirty." despite his words there was no heat to them. as young and inexperienced as they were, he had to hope that they'd find a way to make it work. to be better than the examples they'd had growing up. all he knew really about maia's past was that she didn't talk to - or about - her family, but he wasn't one to push. he got what that was like. "a stalker?" he scoffed. "please. i don't remember you ever ​pushing​ me away."

maia shook her head with a smile and lifted her free hand to nudge Jace away. "No we won't. She'll be a fighter and won't take any shit or believe any stories. She'll be strong." Ever since she found out, Maia had an inkling it would be a girl but it would probably end up being a boy to spite her. "I did! I pushed you out of bed mBy times. After."

Jace laughed as he avoided her nudging, leaning towards the edge of the bed. "hey, she can be strong and go to therapy. she can do whatever she wants." his eyes rolled. "no, you kicked me. i still have the bruises to show for it."

maia reached out to grab at jace's arm so she could get in a good hit. it wasn't too hard. he was already messed up enough in the face. she smiled, thinking about a few things, their future and child together. it was going to be different but jace wasn't a terrible person. especially now that he wasn't hiding anything from her anymore. "she won't need therapy. we will spoil her and treat her the best. she'll be happy." maia nodded, that's what she hoped for at least. "one time! i did it one time and you act like i broke you."

Jace played up the damage as he brought a hand up to rub at his arm, shaking his head. "was that necessary?" a shit eating grin spreads across his face. "you're right we will spoil her. or him. you did it one time, sure, but it still hurt." he commented with a roll of his eyes. "someone's got anger issues."

maia rolled her eyes, keeping a hold of his arm. "yes it was. you deserved that." she hated that grin so much but at the same time she liked it. "she will be so spoiled by everyone. all of your siblings and our friends. it will be terrible." with a wave of the hand, she sighed heavily. "you're so dramatic." shrugging a bit, she glanced to the floor. "a tiny anger problem but it's not unjustified."

Jace maia had to agree with her there. between all of their friends and his family, they'd be lucky if they ever got a moment's peace without someone dropping in. they were in their twenties now, it wasn't as taboo as if they were teenagers and didn't have a way to support themselves. they both had jobs, they were in school, and while it was a surprise and hasn't been planned he knew that they could handle it. at least he hoped so. "that's debatable." he countered. "I could be the innocent victim here." he had to suppress a snort when she justified her anger, shrugging half heartedly. "hey, I wouldn't kick me out of bed, that's all I'm saying."

maia every time maia talked to jace, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at his cockiness. sometimes it wasn't as bad but most times, it was. this was no different. it wasn't anything new to her at all. "you are not innocent. ever. at all. there's no way." she shrugged again, more non nonchalant than anything. "of course not. you think you're perfect. i was trying not to get attached and want you more. obviously that worked out well for me."

Jace knew that maia was probably right, but that didn't mean that he had to own up to it. "i was probably innocent at some point." he argued. "when is up for debate, but," he waved his hand dismissively. "whatever." he couldn't help but snort at the irony of her words. "you were playing it cool, trying to keep things casua, and now you're stuck with me for the next 18 years. i guess that backfired."

maia shook her head and smiled at Jace. "I believe that. You haven't been innocent since I've known you." She lifted her hand to grab his and sighed. "Honestly i'm glad it's you and not someone else. At least you're being an adult about it. Thanks for that."

Jace knew that this couldn't be easy for her. for him, he had to wonder if maybe it hadn't sunk in yet. if maybe that was the reason why he wasn't melting down from the inside out. "i've always wanted kids." he admitted after a moment, lazily tangling their fingers together. "maybe not this soon, but," he shrugged. "could be why i'm not freaking out. either that or it hasn't clicked and i'll lose my shit in a couple weeks. who knows?"

maia glanced down at their hands and couldn't help but smile again. it felt right. it felt safe and she was grateful for jace. "i wanted kids later in life. not right now. i'm scared but i'd never have an abortion. it's not right." she exhaled. "maybe but i think that's normal. it's happening though so there's nothing you can do about it."

Jace shifted uncomfortably. not once since she'd told him there was going to be a baby had he even ​considered​ that might have been an option. if anything about this terrified him, it was that. of not knowing until it was too late, and there was nothing left to know. if he squeezed her hand a little tighter, he didn't acknowledge it. some things were better left unsaid. "you're not wrong." he agreed. "now we just... figure our shit out." he could only hope that by the time the baby had arrived they'd smoothed everything out - that camille and that blonde guy, the one he ​knew​ he should know, were long gone - and that the only thing they'd need to worry about was not screwing the kid up. that, as far as he was concerned, was more than enough pressure.