#prepared to die to touch her one more time they make me SICK

[megalomaniacz]

ENTANGLED IN YOU— WHEN WILL MY LIFE BEGIN?

ways to help, daily click, do not support neil

ellie williams x reader

a/n: this actually isn’t the best but i’ll post it now and edit it later :D let me know what you think

tags: @astralnymphh

masterlist

…

once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who lived a castle…

okay maybe it was an abandoned apartment complex, and maybe she wasn’t a princess, but that isn’t the point of our story. our story focuses on how fate is inescapable.

“flower! let me up.” the doctor calls. you look outside of your broken bedroom window and quickly rush to the main room where there is a lever. you then, twist it with all your might. this triggers a series of reactions going downward which opens a space in the wall for the doctor to walk up.

this was a daily routine. doctor would go out and forage for supplies and food while you tidied up your “tower” as you called it. it wasn’t much but it was home and helped protect you from the outside world.

many years ago an outbreak occurred causing a sickness in the people of the world. doctor says it was terrifying to see. disfigured faces as a parasitic virus took over their minds.

but you were special.

you were born a few years later in a hospital doctor had been working in at the time. your mother had been seeing doctor for months and she was finally ready to deliver you. then suddenly, there was a break in. the infected monsters stormed through and bit your mother as you were being born. in a panic, doctor wrapped you up, ran as fast as she could until she found this abandoned building, and promised to always keep you safe.

she waited to see if the affects of the bite were passed onto you, and gratefully reveled in the fact that they did not. she still continued to watch you carefully. just in case. then, one day while cleaning up, she turned her head for a moment and you’d been scratched by an infected that had found its way inside the building.

you wailed and so did she before she realized that you were not turning. days began to pass and you still hadn’t turned. you were completely fine other than a small scratch on the back of your neck.

doctor rapidly got to work. after running various tests she used your blood to create a cure. it’s temporary against the infection, but it helps keep it from doing extensive damage. it gave those who were previously hopeless a reason to be hopeful.

she was excited about the results and prepared to share them with the world.

once she’d gotten in touch with the others in her field, they said in order to make a viable cure for everyone you would have to die, which she did not agree with.

so she rushed back to the tower, closed the doors, and swore to never let you leave out of fear that others would hurt you. even after you’d grown older. even after a cure had been fashioned years later from a mystery flower. even after the apocalypse had been declared over and it was semi safe to leave again. you would never leave. and she was confident that you’d never try to, until…

“are you excited for you birthday tomorrow, flower?” doctor asks as she walks into the lounge area. you were sat in the corner knitting a scarf out of yarn you’d fashioned from leaves. “i am actually. i’m more excited about the possibility of-“

“leaving to see the festival?” she finishes your sentence. you huff. “doctor, please. i look outside of my window and i see people laughing and lights shining just down the mountain. i know that a settlement is out there. have you still not checked it out?”

“no i haven’t checked it out and i’m not going to. i told you it’s probably fires started to control a large population of infected.” her tone is stern. she has checked already, it is a settlement.

you slump down in a chair next to her, hands clasped together. bottom lip sticking out. “please. please! atleast promise you’ll check on your next trip.”

she looks over at your face and smiles. “fine. we’re running out of supplies anyway. i’ll check on my trip tommorow, would that make you happy?”

“very.” you respond, smiling.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

a loud clanking is heard from underneath the tower followed by a string of curses. “doctor?” you call out. your heart begins to race. what if she’s hurt again and she needs help? or more of the cure? you quickly turn the knob and listen as her footsteps get closer.

then you hear her speak and it is definitely not doctor. you hide behind the entrance, a frying pan in hand as it was the closest thing to you. you watch as the woman steps up and looks around. breathing heavily with dirt all over her. before she can turn around, you knock her hard on her head.

[sansaorgana]

Can you do a buck x reader where she’s a nurse and takes care of everyone at the 100 and they all think she’s just perfect and a mother figure while all the soldiers are away from that mother figure and one day she like snaps when having to deal with screaming soldiers and she goes up to one the higher power guys and like cussing them out for constant sending the men into a death trap and her having to pick up the pieces and buck has to hold her back while she’s just screaming at the other guy and everyone else is like 🧍

hello, thank you for your request! 🧡 I've just realised that none of my previous Readers in the stories with Buck were nurses lol 😷 most likely because I can't even imagine myself as a nurse and writing about all these things is enough to make me feel sick 🤣 but because of this, it was easy to write this story where the Reader is at her breaking point lol proceed with caution because there are ugly descriptions of blood, needles, death etc.

also this gif asdfghjkl I swear, in the story he has more compassion towards the Reader 🤣🤣🤣

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

You thought you could do it. When the war had started, you hadn’t thought twice as you had signed up to help. Real help. No paperwork or coffee making. You had wanted to become a nurse.

The physical aspect of your job was not that difficult. You knew what to do in most situations and you had learnt how to stop frowning at the physiological body functions. It was the emotional aspect of the job that no one had prepared you for.

Sometimes the boys would come back from the air battles with nothing but mere scratches. They would still come by just to spend time with you and let your gentle, skilled hands to patch them up as they were telling you stories.

Sometimes the same boys would not come back from their next mission and the stories they had told were all that was left of them. You would cherish them in your heart forever.

Sometimes the boys would come back burnt, with half of their faces blown out or their guts bleeding all over the floor. Their screams of pain would haunt you later at night. Those were your boys.

Perhaps that was why you were everyone's favourite nurse. You were getting attached to them so easily, treating everyone as a friend, offering them a loving hug when they needed it, listening to their stories, helping them to write letters to their mothers and girlfriends or children. You were a good spirit of the base and one of the planes was named after you. So far it still hadn’t gone down and everyone treated it as a sign that you were their guardian angel indeed.

You didn’t see yourself as a guardian angel. If you had to stay within the religious imagery examples, you’d rather describe yourself as a mater dolorosa – lady of sorrows watching her son’s suffering and not being able to help him.

Sometimes they would die in your arms. Still, it was better than to die in a burning plane. Better for them. Not for you.

Today was a day of a very difficult mission. Most of the planes hadn’t come back at all. And the ones who had, were full of men screaming in agony and pain. You were barely able to hold it all together when they were reaching their hands out for you as if your touch would heal them. But it wouldn’t. It couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted it.

“(Y/N), you should take a break…” Your friend put her hand on your shoulder. You were exhausted indeed. You were working for three hours straight without sitting down for one second and you were running around from one bed to another. “Go, rest,” she insisted but you shook your head and went back to work.

Only when you noticed that your hands were shaking so much that you weren’t able to inject a needle into a vein properly, you decided to take a break indeed. You didn’t want to cause even more damage by trying too hard.

But before leaving the sickbay you wanted to check on one of the young pilots. He was nineteen years old, it had been his first mission and you remembered how excited he had been about it. Now he was laying on one of the beds, barely breathing as his chest was burnt and lungs damaged.

You were approaching his bed and your heart sank to your chest at the sight of the doctor putting a white sheet over his face.

“Wh-what… What are you doing to Johnson, sir?” You asked.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” the doctor shook his head. “He’s just passed away.”

You just stood there with your lips slightly parted. Johnson was just another surname on the list of all these boys you would never forget about. But Johnson was special. He was the youngest you had known. He couldn’t stop talking about his mother and little sister, about his dog and his girlfriend waiting for him back in Alabama.

Your sadness overtook your whole body and then it developed into an anger so big that you felt as if you were about to explode and bring down the whole base.

“Son of a bitch…” You breathed out angrily as you stormed out of the sickbay without even taking your apron off. It was full of blood but you did not care.

You walked down the corridor with murder in your eyes, making everyone step out of the way. And you entered the Colonel’s office without knocking, so loudly and rapidly that all the men inside startled.

“Miss?” Colonel Harding asked as he was sitting behind his desk and showing some sort of a map to a few Majors.

One of them was Major Cleven. He hadn’t been up in the air on that day but he would be tomorrow. And was the one you had befriended the most. But even his presence couldn’t stop your rage at that moment.

“You can’t just keep sending them to die, Colonel!” You clenched your fists and approached the desk as the men watched with big eyes. “Look! Look, Colonel! Look!” You showed him your bloody hands and your apron. “Why is it me with their blood and guts all over me? While you’re just sitting here, planning…” You gave the map a very angry look. You wanted to tear it apart and you were shaking to stop yourself from doing so. “You’re sending them to death, all of them, they’re just boys! Johnson was nineteen years old! Do you even know who he was? Or was he just another number to you?!”

“(Y/N), calm down, let’s take you outside…” Buck approached you carefully but you moved away.

“No! I will not be silenced. I have things to say and I will say them!” You snapped at him and he froze. You laid your eyes back on the surprised Colonel again. “You just sit here and plan how to send them to death more efficiently. You men… Can’t you see how stupid this whole war is? How stupid every war is? And just because some brilliant engineers constructed planes, doesn’t mean they should be used to kill people!”

“Miss…” Colonel furrowed his brow, “Miss I-Don’t-Know-Your-Name, are you done?”

“You son of a bitch!” You banged your bloody fists on his desk and his stupid map got covered with blood. “You don’t even know my name. But I am the one to patch them up and hold their hand when they’re dying after you sent them to death. God damn you, Colonel Harding! You and all the Generals that you serve! God damn Hitler, God damn Churchill and God damn your fucking President Roosevelt!”

“(Y/N), please,” Buck’s strong hands pulled you away. “I’m sorry, Colonel. She’s all shook up,” he tried to explain your behaviour as you started sobbing when the anger had finally left your body. You hid your face in his uniform and allowed him to put his arm around you. “I’ll take her outside.”

“Yeah, you better do it, son,” Colonel nodded at him. Buck started to walk you out slowly and carefully as you heard Colonel’s voice while you were walking out of the door. “Poor girl… She needs a free weekend.”

Buck took you outside and watched you worryingly as you were catching your breath back and trying to calm yourself down, wiping the tears off of your face with the palms of your bloody hands.

“Here, let me,” he took out a handkerchief and wiped your face with it gently. “Gee, (Y/N), what was that?”

“I… I don’t know… I just can’t… I can’t do it anymore, Buck… That boy, Johnson, he was nineteen… Nineteen, for God’s sake,” you sniffed your tears back and looked into his eyes as your lips trembled. “He was telling me stories about his mum and little sister… His dog and his girlfriend… And now… And now he’s gone. Just like that. His lungs were burnt. Every breath was agony…” You tried to explain, still shaking.

“You really need a free weekend,” Buck pointed out and brought you closer to give you another hug.

It felt good to be in his arms. It was comforting. But you were scared to admit to yourself that you indeed liked him more than just a friend. Because if he would go down tomorrow or any other day, it would hurt even more.

“I can’t… I can’t leave my boys…” You took a step back to look at his face again. “And… And I can’t just take a free weekend. It would feel wrong. When you boys are up in the air, so brave and so heroic. All I can do is patch you up later. I can’t give up, no…”

“We all need a break sometimes. Hey,” Buck raised your chin up with his finger, “promise me that you’ll take a free weekend.”

“Aren’t you on a mission this weekend?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then no way, Buck,” you shook your head. “I have to be here to patch you up,” you smiled through the tears.

“There are other nurses ‘round here,” he pointed out with a soft smile.

“I don’t want them to touch you,” you admitted suddenly as your cheeks heated up.

Why the hell had you said that…?

“They don’t know how to patch you up properly, I mean…” You tried to explain yourself quickly. “Only I know how to–”

But he didn’t let you finish. He leaned in very carefully and placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. You were stunned.

“I know what you mean, sweetheart,” he teased after finally breaking the kiss and caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I promise I won’t get a single scratch when you’re not around.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[rhiannonsknife]

https://www.tumblr.com/rhiannonsknife/766686034414174208/thinking-about-sleepy-cuddles-w-jackie-shes-so

same anon here :3 u are so right about falling asleep so quickly in her arms, i feel like she gives the most comforting hugs and cuddles ever and she’s so warm too. like a human heater

i strongly believe that her go to show of affection is hugs. doesn’t matter what the situation is. whether you’re sad, sick, angry, scared, happy, anything, you best believe it always ends up with jackie opening her arms and offering you a hug.

i could make it angsty about how she doesn’t ever really feel loved herself so she’s always giving hugs to try and make up for that but anyway ☺️☺️ i would die happy in jackie taylor’s arms mhm mhm

i’m so sorry but i giggled when you said “she’s so warm like a human heater”…..because like….actually no, never mind, let’s not go there!! 🤗

anyway, anon, you are so right!! especially with that angsty take, i 100% agree! jackie never really felt loved the way she always wanted (and deserved) to, so from the moment she met you, she’s made it her mission to give all the love she never received!! i just know she has so much love in her heart that she a) has never been given and b) could never give before

okay no pause this just gave me an idea: 5 love languages of jackie taylor, anyone??

physical touch

okay starting with physical touch, of course!! as established: jackie is 100% more touchy-feely than she might admit, especially when she’s feeling vulnerable or sleepy. jackie is definitely affectionate, always finding small ways to reach out and remind you she’s there. she’ll hold your hand, link her arm with yours, or give you spontaneous hugs, warm and sincere. she loves being close, resting her head on your shoulder during movie nights, or tucking her arm around you in crowded hallways. to her, physical touch is a way of grounding herself in the comfort of being with someone she adores, and she’s never shy about showing it with /to you. it’s her way of making sure you always feel secure and loved!! and also a way to ground herself, though she has a harder time admitting to that!

words of affirmation

jackie is your biggest supporter!! if that girl wasn’t already the captain of the soccer team, she’d be your own personal cheerleader! she makes it a point to remind you often how much she believes in you, with little affirmations she sneaks into conversations. “you know you’re amazing, right?” she’ll say, catching your eye with a sincerity that leaves no room for doubt. she makes sure you never forget how special you are to her, giving compliments freely and reminding you of your worth, always wanting you to feel as cherished as she wishes she could feel at home :(

acts of service

jackie is attentive to the smallest details of your day-to-day life and finds ways to make things easier for you to a point where you don’t even have to verbalize them: if she knows you have a big test or a stressful week, she’ll show up with your favorite coffee/snacks or leave a hand-written note in your locker wishing you luck. when you’re busy or overwhelmed, she jumps in to help, always quietly and without making a big deal out of it. she has a nurturing side she rarely shows to anyone else, and through these gestures, she lets you know that you can always lean on her!!

giving/receiving gifts

jackie puts a lot of thought into the things she gives you, always with the intent of making you feel special!! she might make a small scrapbook of memories together or surprise you with a book you once mentioned liking, just because. she has a way of finding gifts that are all meaningful and personal, every single one of them evidence of how much she pays attention to you. they’re all an additional way of her saying i see you, and i want you to feel loved. aside from small, causal things she gets you occasionally, she also has a thing for preparing bigger surprises for you, whether it’s for a birthday, an anniversary, or just because she felt like it. because she can afford it, jackie will surprise you with things like expensive dinners for just the two of you or a necklace that matches hers that has you wondering just how much money she spent on it! she’ll insist on it, though, pouting whenever you even mention that you “can’t possibly accept that”.

quality time

okay last but not least: quality time!! for jackie, spending time with you is the highlight of her day. she’ll come up with endless reasons to be around you: whether it’s studying together, taking a walk, or planning an elaborate day out, just to have uninterrupted time with you. she craves these moments, where she can drop her polished, “perfect” exterior and just be herself, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. you’re her safe space, and she loves making time for you, savoring every second!! <3

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man 15

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Everyone prepares for take off. The final chapter.

8.5k words

(Master List 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14)

“So, do you want the good news or the bad news first?” 

Paige’s voice was professional over the phone, but that didn’t stop Eddie’s stomach from dropping at the question. It had been about a month since the audition, and even though Paige had said that she would get back to Eddie with an offer, the stretch of time had made everyone nervous. Corroded Coffin had been left hanging, wondering if this had been too good to be true. 

“Bad news first.” Eddie said, rubbing his forehead. 

“WR Records interfered, and they need more from you than the audition.” Paige sighed. “They remember you flaking out a few years ago and they want proof that you aren’t just going to turn tail and run.”

“I’m not!” Eddie protested. “I mean- we’re not! And I didn’t in the first place I just...”

“They don’t care why you didn’t come last time.” Paige continued. “You didn’t show up after I had stuck my neck out for you and that’s why we’re in this position to begin with.”

Eddie didn’t need the reminder. “So, what do they need? Do they want us to go to LA? It was hard enough getting everyone to go to Live Mike-”

“No, they don’t want you all in L.A. Not yet anyway.” Eddie could hear the exasperation in her voice, and he didn’t know if it was at him or the situation. 

“So what-?”

“They want to see your stage presence. More than in just the audition tape we used. They want you to put on a show. A real one.”

“I take it that means that the Hideout doesn’t count?” Eddie asked. 

“They want to see fans, Eddie.” she explained. “They want to see Corroded Coffin with the real target demographic. Not just a handful of drunks wincing at your latest cover of Paranoia.”

He knew she was right, even if it did suck. When it came to fans, you were the only real one that they had at the moment that would fit the description of what WR was asking for. How the hell were they supposed to suddenly find people to support them, let alone like them? 

“Shit.” 

“It’s not going to be easy, but it’s not impossible.” Paige said. “You just need to put on a good enough show that they’ll sign off on you with Left Turn.”

“Why does this feel like a punishment?”

“Because it is.”

“Shit.” 

“It’s not a lost cause.” She continued. “They didn’t exactly give us a time limit on this, especially since we’re still setting up shop in Indiana. Everything is ahead of schedule and we’ll have everything set up by late May or early June.”

“So we just have to prove ourselves by Summer and we’re in?” 

“Plenty of time for you to find some fans.” Page laughed. 

“Yeah, finding fans in a town that thinks I’m a satanic cult leader. My fate rests in the hands of people who’d rather run me out with pitchforks than touch a die with more than six sides.” Eddie began lightly smacking his forehead against the refrigerator. “Sounds easy.”

“You’ll figure it out. Besides, there is good news to incentivise you.” 

“Yeah?”

“When we get the green light from WR, Left Turn is willing to offer you a two record deal.”

Eddie froze with his forehead pressed against the cool exterior of the fridge for the moment. “Wait,” his head snapped up and he pulled the receiver away from his ear to stare at it, wanting to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Are you joking?”

“I don’t joke about business.” Her tone was serious. “We discussed it, and we really think Corroded Coffin is going to be the breakout band that gives Left Turn what it needs to no longer be the place where second rate bands play third rate songs for passive income for WR. We want you, Eddie. You all have something special.” 

Special. The only time he had been called that was when the jocks called him Special Ed after he showed up for his fifth year of high school. Shit, who was he kidding, they called him that even before then. 

“Two records?” Eddie repeated. Did they even have enough songs for that? Corroded Coffin had maybe five original songs, and at least two of them were incomplete.

“It'll be easier to go over the details with everyone in person. But the long and short of it is that if you can pull off a halfway decent show for the label, you’re in. And, okay, I know I said that they didn’t give us a time limit but we’d really prefer to start giving you all studio time next summer.” 

“Wow that’s...” An eternity away? Too soon to even conceive? The most exciting and terrifying thing to happen to Eddie Munson, outside of stealing weed from a reefer truck and being in a shootout when he was eighteen? 

“The best deal you can hope to get.” Paige finished his sentence for him. “Trust me, we are bending and breaking a lot of rules for you, Eddie. Most bands would kill for this kind of deal that we’re offering you.”

He believed it, because it seemed like every time Paige came to him with any kind of news about his band he felt like he stepped into an alternate universe.

“So do a show, get fans, and get signed.” It was a three step plan that would work in theory, and Eddie had created campaigns and encounters on flimsier ideas. Then again, right now he wondered if fighting a litch would be easier than getting people in this town to like him. 

“We’ll talk more about this later. I’m heading back to California tomorrow but I’ll be back in a few weeks for the holidays and we can talk business then. Give the boys the good news and start working on a plan for your show.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good night, Eddie.” 

“‘Night, Paige.”

Winter passed in a blur of slush and snow and dreary days, while you found your life suddenly filled with more warmth and light than you had ever expected. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, all came and went with Eddie. You got to know his uncle Wayne, and Eddie spent his weekends more often than not at your apartment, watching movies, listening to his tales from school, and discussing his band. 

In January, you found yourself sneaking into Hawkins high on occasion to join Hellfire. You didn’t want to risk coming every single week, but when Eddie needed a sub, or when he said that he would be running a one shot, you were there. He had spent a night at your place helping you create a character, and you had admittedly gone overboard and ended up coming to the sessions with a new character each time because you had so much fun making them. You weren’t always clear on the rules, but you had enthusiasm and that counted for more in Eddie’s book, even if he had killed two of your characters.

In February he surprised you for Valentine’s day by playing you a song that he swore up and down he only tolerated because you liked it. In a card he bought was a paper heart that he had folded himself and had doodled hearts and skulls on. 

“It’s not as good as what you make, but you always show interest in my stuff, so...” Eddie had just shrugged. 

That was the first time you said ‘I love you.’ to Eddie Munson. 

His brown eyes had gone wide, and he had stared at you in surprise at those words. He didn’t say it back, not then. You didn’t need him to. You knew how you felt about him, and by the look in his eyes, you had an idea that he wouldn’t be far behind. 

Eddie had kissed you in response, and you don’t think that the two of you stopped kissing until you had to force yourself to pull away to give him his gift; a mix tape of both of your favorite songs and a tape recorder so that he could keep better record of all of the music he was trying to make. 

It wasn’t the world, it wasn’t a stage, or a record deal, but it was from you. 

You found that dating Eddie was easier in March and April. Spring had come and there was a lot more that you could do together outside of your apartment. The two of you fell into Lover’s Lake a handful of times, courtesy of Rick lending Eddie his boat and the two of you having horrible coordination. One weekend, the two of you drove past the old theater, and found it to now be fully closed and under some sort of construction as a radio tower was put on top of the building. 

Fine, good riddance. 

You remained Corroded Coffin’s number one fan, and had dragged Steve and Robin to the Hideout to watch them whenever you could. You tried to get other people to go see them play, and put up fliers for the band on the days where Keith wasn’t around. On the odd occasion you had seen a new face at the Hideout, but no one had stuck around for more than one set. 

Eddie was getting discouraged by the time May came around, and it was breaking your heart. He was putting everything into this band, and even though the past few months they had worked so hard on new music, they weren’t able to find that spark that would get people talking about them. As much as he believed in this band, in their music, it wouldn’t matter if this town wouldn’t give him a fucking chance. 

You... were not doing much better. Actually, if you were being completely honest with yourself, outside of spending time with Eddie and his friends and the occasional movie night with Robin and Steve, you were feeling more lost than ever. 

What was it about finding yourself, that made you feel even more out of place? With Eddie you could breathe, so why did it feel like in every other aspect of your life you were treading water?

Because all of those stupid rom coms that you had watched also lied to you. Turns out that by getting a man, it didn’t magically fix anything wrong in your life. Not that it had ever been his job to fix you, nor was that your intention but still. 

With Rocky Horror long gone, you had tried to focus your efforts on Corroded Coffin instead. It wasn’t the same. The harder you saw your boyfriend working towards his passions, the more you realized that you had no idea what the fuck you were doing with your life.

Being the assistant manager, who did more work than the actual manager sucked. You were pulling in so many hours with little to no reward. You nearly hit a breaking point when Keith tried to change your schedule so that you had to work on Tuesdays, and even though your day had remained intact, you still felt like you had lost somehow. 

Time spent with Eddie was the only time you didn’t feel stuck at work. Even when you were hanging out with Steve and Robin, all they seemed to be able to talk about was work or Steve’s dating life, or whatever movie was on. 

Everything came to a head one afternoon in May. It was Saturday, the busiest day of the week and you were staring at the door to your apartment with dread. Outside was the perfect day, finally warm enough to wear whatever you want without it being too hot or too cold. 

And yet, you felt clammy all over, you felt frozen in place staring at the door. You could already hear customers complaining about movies, Keith blowing off any responsibility, and-

“I’m sick.” you said bluntly into the receiver.”I’m not coming in.” 

You didn’t give Keith a chance to respond before hanging up and unplugging the phone. 

The drive to Gareth’s neighborhood was a blur and you pulled up behind Eddie’s van. You sat there for a moment before forcing yourself out of the car and walked over to the garage. 

The few times you were able to swing by during practice, it was usually a cacophony of music that echoed down the street, but not this time. You heard Eddie’s voice before you saw him with the band, they were all standing around and Eddie had his arms crossed. 

Zack was the first to notice you and gave you a wave, and you waved back. Eddie turned around and you saw the way his face relaxed as you approached. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and kissed your forehead. 

“Thought you had work today.” Eddie said. 

“I...” you shook your head. “I don’t even want to talk about work right now. What’s going on over here?”

“Oh, we’re fucked.” Gareth shrugged, spinning his sticks. 

“We aren’t fucked.” Eddie snapped. 

“I don’t know man, we seem kind of fucked.” Jeff sighed. 

“Fucked like a cheap whore.” Zack added. 

“Stop!” Eddie snapped, his eyes narrowing at his band. He removed his arm from around you and crossed his arms. “We aren’t fucked until I say we’re fucked.” 

“...Fucked.” you said, and everyone looked at you. “....I felt left out.” 

Eddie sighed from deep in his soul. “We have no venue, and no steady following except for you.” 

Ah, this again. You had been hearing about this problem for the better part of four months now. You honestly didn’t know what WR Records expected from a bunch of high schoolers with no money and no idea how to put on a show. You’d been here for this conversation so many times that you could practically recite everyone’s responses. 

“Let’s just... everyone take five. I need a smoke.” Eddie said. 

“Take it to the street, mom is gonna kill me if she finds another one of your butts on the lawn.” Gareth said. 

“Right, right.” Eddie grabbed your hand and led you to the side of his van as he pulled out his cigarettes. 

“Still no idea about a show?” you asked, leaning against his van. 

“Not a clue.” Eddie took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled. “But it’s nothing you haven’t heard a thousand times over at this point.” 

“I’m surprised that you haven’t used the frustration to write any new songs.” 

“It’s hard to fight demons when they won’t even give you a battlefield.” He gave a subtle laugh. “At this point I’d rather be fighting a real demon.” Despite his smile, you saw the stress in his eyes, and that worried you. 

“How would you even do that?” you asked. “Baseball bat with nails? Molotov cocktail? The power of friendship?” 

“Obviously through the power of metal. I’d play a guitar solo so sick that a demon’s head would explode.” 

“Effective.” You nodded. 

“So... why aren’t you at work?” Eddie asked, flicking his cigarette. You watched as the ashes fell to the ground and disappeared on the tar of the street. “It’s not like you to play hooky. Am I really that bad of an influence on you?”

“It’s not important-”

“Please.” Eddie turned to you and looked into your eyes. Sometimes you hated how intense his eyes could be, it was like he could see straight through you. “I’m so sick of hearing about my own shit. What’s going on, Sweetheart?”

Your gaze tilted up to the sky, it was a perfect shade of blue that you’d only see in photo books or inspirational posters in a library. “I... am so sick of feeling stuck.” you started, and from there a dam burst. “I’m sick of being at work, I’m sick of Family Video. I’m so tired of just waking up and going to work and coming home, just to turn around and go back to work. Keith is making my job so fucking difficult, I don’t even get to be on shift with Steve and Robin for more than maybe two or three hours a week, and if I have to hear one more person complain about movie ratings I might actually throw up.” Eddie reached out and rubbed your back. “I just... everyone else has something they can do. Steve does sports, you’re about to record an album, Robin knows like, 5 languages, and I’m...”

You didn’t want to finish that sentence. You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. 

“I want to quit.” you admitted. “I wish I could just quit and throw caution to the wind and give some sort of big dramatic speech about sticking it to the man and running off into the sunset. But I can’t.” 

“That’s bullshit.” Eddie said, finishing off his cigarette and crushing it under his worn sneaker. There was a small hole in the side of the shoe, threatening to expose his sock which probably also had a hole in it. “You’re smart, you should be able to get any job in town.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, and I know you’re right and that sucks.” You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I want to leave, but I feel stuck, and I feel stuck because I won’t leave. It’s a vicious cycle.” 

“Says the girl who kept showing up to my shows after I blew her off at the arcade.” Eddie nudged you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders again. “You had no problem going after what you wanted back then.”

“I knew what I wanted back then.” you looked up at him. “You were an easy choice, Eddie. Right now, I just know what I don’t want.”

There was a look in his eyes that was hard to read. Eddie was always a bit of an enigma, even after almost six months of dating. He was so expressive, and it was usually so easy to tell how he was feeling at a glance but there were moments like this, where he’d look at you with that distant expression and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was really thinking. 

“And what don’t you want...?” Eddie asked. 

“I don’t want to feel stuck, and I don’t want to hear people complain about movies ever again.” you said firmly. 

HIs expression continued to be unreadable and he looked down at the smashed cigarette butt by his feet. “You know... if this doesn’t- I mean if we can’t get our shit together to do this deal then we might be stuck.” 

“Eddie-”

“I’m just saying that I get it if you signed up to be with some big time musician. If this falls through, I don’t want you to be stuck with more than just your job.”

“Eddie.” You said again, sharply. “I liked you that first night at the arcade when you blew me off, I liked you the night I first saw you play, and I like you now because you’re you, Eddie. Of all the things I’m stuck with, you are the thing I choose to be stuck with. Everything else in my life might range from mediocre to shitty, but you are the one thing I’m sure about right now.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked. 

You grinned wickedly at him. “I’m not stuck with you, you’re stuck with me.” Your arms wrapped around his waist tightly. “Sorry, no refunds. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“You are a brave woman.” He said. 

“Not brave enough, apparently.” You leaned against his chest and sighed. “Bleh.”

“Are you two done making out yet?” Jeff’s voice carried over, and you remembered that you had technically crashed their rehearsal. “We want to at least play something before Gareth’s mom runs us off.” 

“Eddie’s putting his pants back on!” you called back, resulting in a mix of laughter and groans. “Looks like the show must go on.” 

The two of you made your way back to the driveway, and Eddie went for his guitar. You took a seat on the driveway, feeling the warm, rough concrete against your palms. 

You watched them take off and fly, the same way you had seen over and over again. Despite their frustration with the lack of venue, they lost themselves in the music, using it as a way to battle the demons in their own heads. 

You wished you could feel that way too. To be able to feel that power inside of yourself and just let go and lose yourself in the moment. Your eyes closed and you leaned back, tilting your head towards the sky. In your mind, you visualized your own world with their music, one where fighting demons was easy, and that any problem could be solved with some sort of sick solo. 

Your mind drifted, as you imagined demons taking over Family Video, and you and Eddie fighting them off while the store was being destroyed. That was a nice thought. There wouldn’t be a lot of room in the store though, it’d be better to take the high ground, maybe fight on top of the strip mall? Once the plaza was thoroughly destroyed in your mind, you moved the battle elsewhere; the old movie theater. 

No, you still cared for the old theater. But you did still have it out for one Chris Morrison. You could imagine him with his horrid toe colored hair as some sort of ugly demon and kicking him in the nuts again, only this time in your mind it came with a satisfying pop sound. He’d never be able to harass any women ever again. 

You let Corroded Coffin’s music be the catharsis needed after a long and stressful winter. As they played you imagined beating the shit out of every grievance you’ve ever had, and some that weren’t even yours. Eddie’s voice carried such weight as he sang about a demon who had demanded that he drop his weapons and tried to banish him-  

The idea struck you like lightning, and charged every single nerve ending in your body. You felt the hair on your neck stand up and your body prickle with goosebumps as your eyes snapped open. 

Oh, shit. This was going to be a bad idea. A brilliant idea, but probably a bad one. One that might get you all in trouble.

But it was so stupid, it might actually work. 

Eddie’s eyes met yours and he must have seen something in the way you were staring so intensely at him. He motioned for the band to stop after the song they were playing. 

“You’re glaring a hole in my head, sweetheart.” He said. “Was it that bad?”

You shook your head. “I have an idea for your show. It’s stupid, and could get all of us in trouble and might be illegal. I can’t say for sure.” 

Eddie stared at you, looking slightly worried. “Care to share with the class what you’re thinking?” 

“Can’t be worse than some of the schemes we’ve come up with.” Jeff said. 

Eddie helped you stand up, and you told them exactly what you were thinking, and how it would be stupid and reckless but that you had an idea about getting an audience, and a large one at that. 

They were all quiet as they listened and thought about what you were saying. “That’s... jesus, you’d really help us do that?”

“Do you think you can pull it off?” you asked. “Don’t worry about me. What do you all think?” 

The boys looked at each other, and you could feel the air crackling with excitement. 

“You’re right, it’s a stupid plan.” Jeff said. “But...”

“Mom would actually murder me.” Gareth said, but despite his words, there was a wicked grin on his face. 

“We’re so fucked.” Zack muttered under his breath. 

You looked at Eddie. Eddie looked at you. “Well?” 

Eddie’s frown slowly moved up into a grin. “That’s pretty risky. You sure you want to do this?”

“It’s easy to go for something when you know what you want.” You grinned back. 

The rest of the day was spent hammering out all of the details of this plan. For the first time since your audition for Rocky Horror so many months ago you felt excited, like you were really a part of something. You felt... real. 

Eddie’s excitement over this plan didn’t wane for the rest of the day. He followed you back to your apartment after rehearsal, and decided that actions spoke louder than words to show his gratitude towards you. 

The sun was just starting to set and Eddie was sleeping on your chest now. Your fingers were running through his hair as he clung to your naked form, while you stared at the ceiling. In a bit you’d probably wake him up for dinner, but for now your mind raced and went over the plan over and over again. The rational part of you was screaming that this would be a bad idea, but when you glanced down at Eddie, and remembered how he looked when he was with his band, all doubts went away. 

If you could do one thing right, it would be this. 

You arrived at the Munson trailer far earlier than you’d like to help Eddie get ready for graduation. Eddie had spent the morning with you sitting on his bed and him taking off and putting on every single shirt he owned. Normally you wouldn’t mind seeing him constantly removing his shirt, but this wasn’t the time. Eventually you had to step in and hand him his Hellfire Club shirt. 

“This is your legacy, Eddie.” you said. “This is what you’re wearing today.”

Eddie’s curls were being especially unruly after he’d showered last night and slept in wet hair. You pulled his hair back into a low ponytail to try and get his graduation cap to stay on, but he hated how it looked. He shook his hair free and you opted to use some bobby pins you had laying in the bottom of your bag instead to keep it on. 

Eddie needed to be at the school early, and you rode along with him with the promise you’d save Wayne’s seat. Your boyfriend was practically bouncing in his seat as he drove to the school and parked. The two of you went over the plan one more time, and you both adjusted the walkie-talkies that the two of you had borrowed from the freshmen. 

You walked with Eddie to the auditorium where graduates were being told to meet up. 

“You got this, Eddie.” you said, squeezing his hands. “No matter what happens today, I’m proud of you, okay?”

He leaned in and gave you a kiss, the tassel from his cap hitting your face as your lips met. “I don’t think I could have pulled this off without you.”

“I know you could have.” you said. 

“Maybe, but it’s a hell of a lot better with you helping out.” Eddie hugged you and kissed your forehead. “I’ll see you on the other side, mk? In two hours, you can officially say that you are no longer dating a high schooler.”

“Oh good, because I was getting worried that at some point I was going to be put on a list.” you snorted. “Knock ‘em dead, Eddie.” 

“Trust me, that’s the plan.” He said before disappearing into the auditorium. 

With that, you made your way to the football field where the actual ceremony was being held while the graduates did one last practice run in the school. You made your way to the bleachers and made your way to the very top, near the announcers booth and set your bag down next to you. 

People filed in steady for the next while. In the front row of the bleachers, you saw Steve and waved to him. The freshmen were all gathered in a group a few rows over, and the rest of Corroded Coffin wasn’t too far from them. You kept scanning the crowd diligently before spotting a girl with short dark hair chatting with a few members of the baseball team. Perfect. 

Wayne showed up about a half hour later, as the stands were starting to fill up with people. He stopped to speak to a woman you had seen around the trailer park the few times you had visited, as well as the tall woman next to her. You moved your bag as he took a seat next to you, and he looked over the field. 

“You know, I never did make it to any football games in my day.” he said. “Too noisy.”

“I went to a few, but mostly stayed because of my friends and the snacks.” you replied. In the months that you had been dating Eddie, you had gotten to know his uncle fairly well. He was a quiet man, a bit stoic, but surprisingly easy to get along with. You had a soft spot for his dry sense of humor as well. 

“Didn’t think I’d ever come to one of these.” Wayne continued. “I always had hope though.”

You had a feeling that he wasn’t talking about football anymore. 

“He worked hard.” you said. “He really wanted it this year.” 

“Well, he finally had some motivation to finish this year.” Wayne pulled a cigarette from his pocket. 

“Yeah, the promise of a record deal will do that.” Behind you, people were going into the speaker booth and started playing some filler music before the ceremony started. You took a second to look up, confirming that things were in place. 

“I ain’t talking about that.” He shook his head and looked over at you. “My boy isn’t exactly the best at expressing himself, but it was more than just his band that gave him that final push.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you shook your head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did more’n you think.” he continued. “He used to only talk about his band and his games. He never did talk much about the future, always avoided it. Eddie talks about it now, and he can’t say more than two sentences without including you in it.”

Eddie thought about a future with you? He talked about you in the future tense with his uncle? The idea made you feel flustered more than you cared to admit. 

“I’m glad he’s with you.” Wayne concluded. “You’re a good influence on him.”

The music to cue the ceremony started, which was a blessing as you had no idea how to respond to that. Did Eddie really see a future with you...?

Everyone in the bleachers started cheering as the graduates in a sea of Tiger’s green made their way to the field and took their seats in the folding chairs. The next thirty minutes were filled with boring speeches by the faculty as they all stroked their own egos about how amazing the school was and how good of a job they did at teaching the students. 

As you watched, you saw someone in the seats move from one row to the row in front. A few minutes later, they did it again, moving down the row this time. 

“What the hell is that boy doing?” Wayne said, realizing before you that it was, in fact, Eddie, who was seat hopping from the back row. 

It was the strangest game of Frogger that you had ever witnessed as your boyfriend moved from seat to seat for the next ten minutes before finally settling in the third row and not moving from then on. 

“What do you think that was about?” you asked, but Wayne just shrugged. 

After what felt like an eternity, it was finally time for the graduates to walk the stage. You politely cheered for most of them, but you were here for one person only. 

Okay, fine, two people. You hadn’t forgotten that Robin was also graduating. But you knew it your heart that right now you were here for- 

“Eddie Munson.” Anyone with ears could hear the waiver of disdain in Higgin’s voice as he called out the name. You had never heard his name said with such contempt.

The cheers for Eddie were noticeably quieter than any graduate from the general crowd. You decided that it wasn’t a bad thing as you and the rest of Hellfire cheered and screamed loudly for him. You were shameless, hollering and clapping as Eddie strode across the stage as if he owned the place and stopped in front of the principal. 

True to his word, Eddie snatched the rolled up piece of paper out of the older man’s hand and everyone in the bleachers gasped and laughed as Eddie flipped him off. He then turned to the audience and, in true Eddie fashion, threw up his fingers like devil horns and hissed before cackling like a mad man and running off the stage. 

You stood up and asked Wayne to watch your things as you quickly made your way down the bleachers, meeting him behind them. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. 

“Congratulations, Eddie.” you said as he hugged you tightly, 

“If you hadn’t helped me study, I might not have made it.” he admitted. 

“You could have.” you said. “Also, what the fuck were you doing down there?”

“Jocks cut me off in line, and I had to find a way to get to my assigned seat.” Eddie took off his cap and gown and you took the items and folded them up carefully. “Now, are you ready for the most metal concert that Hawkin’s High school has ever seen?” 

“Everything is all set up and ready to go.” you said. “Wait for the signal. I’ve already gotten the all clear that it would just take a flip of the switch and everything will swap over” 

Eddie’s smile lit up his face, excitement radiating off of him now. “Let’s do this.” he handed you his diploma and you expected him to run off to get in position for the plan, but instead he stayed still for a moment just staring at you. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. “Don’t tell me you’re getting stage fright now.”

His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you into a deep kiss. You barely understood what he was doing, but you kissed him back on reflex. You reached up and grabbed his shirt, holding onto him. You had never thought you were the type to make out with someone under the bleachers, but it seemed there was a first time for everything.

“I love you.” he said quickly. “I’ll see you after the show.”

That was when he turned tail and ran off, leaving you dazed and stunned at his drive-by confession. 

I love you. 

Those three words echoed in your head as you were left speechless and frozen in place. 

Oh.. that prick. He thinks that he can just drop that on you and then run away?!

He can and that’s the worst part. You would have to kick his ass and kiss him senseless later. For now, there was still a job to do. 

Eddie’s kiss haunted your lips as you made your way back up the bleachers and set his items down next to Wayne. 

“What is this?” he asked, frowning at you. 

“So, I don’t have any time to explain.” you said. “And you are about to take back everything you said about me being a good influence.” 

Wayne’s frown only deepened, but Higgins was now shaking hands with the last student on stage. You turned and made your way to the announcement booth where Dustin was waiting for you by the door.

“Ready to do something stupid and reckless that’ll get us into every sort of trouble ever?” you asked. 

“Is that a hypothetical question?” he smiled at you and the two of you made your way into the booth. 

Being friends with Steve meant that you were friends with Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. By knowing the kids, you were vaguely aware of their siblings. 

You had never officially met Johnathan Byers or Nancy Wheeler. If anything, Nancy was more of a mythical being, the ex of your best friend. You knew that she and Steve had famously dated, broke up, dated again, broke up for good, and now she was dating the man next to her holding a camera. The whole thing seemed messy, but this wasn’t the time for that. 

“You might want to get down to the field if you want to get any good pictures of this.” Dustin said to Johnathan. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” you asked. This had not been part of the plan that you recalled. You had asked Dustin for help as he had been involved with the AV club, which meant that he knew how to work the booth but Nancy and Johnathan hadn’t been anywhere close to this plot. 

“Dustin told us what was going on.” Nancy said, holding a pen and paper. “And we were promised an exclusive if we help.”

“You-” you shook your head. “You want to do a story on this?” 

“A graduation being taken over by a small town underdog band that could get signed?” Nancy asked. “Eddie is about to do something so stupid that it could get him run out of town. I’m going to make sure that this gets spun the right way.”

“You said you needed a show and an audience.” Dustin shrugged, making his way over to the booth. “Corroded Coffin needs press. I called in a favor. Now get over here, we’re running out of time.”

Shit, the kid was right. Higgins was in the middle of his closing speech and you didn’t have much time left. You could already see some parents gathering their things to beat traffic. 

Now or never. 

Dustin flicked a switch and suddenly Higgin’s microphone cut off. He kept talking for a moment before realizing that his voice was no longer echoing across the field. He tapped the microphone a few times before looking up towards the announcement booth. 

You pulled out the walkie talkie. “Paper Crane to Corroded Coffin, are you ready? Over.” 

There was a beat before static crackled through the device. “Corroded Coffin to Paper Crane. We’re ready.”

“On my signal.” you said, and set the walkie talkie down. 

Dustin flipped a switch and music started blasting again, this time instead of the cheesy family safe hits that had been playing before, the screeching guitar of Metallica echoed across the grounds. You had no doubt that this was going to be heard for miles. 

With this distraction, Corroded Coffin stormed the stage with their instruments, setting up in record time just like they had practiced. Higgins was too stunned to speak for a moment, before seeming to sputter and yell at the boys. 

That’s what you were assuming anyway, as you could only see him and in no way hear him. 

Eddie didn’t seem bothered at all as he swung his guitar around so hard that you were sure it would have caused some serious damage had it actually hit the man. 

Dustin hit your arm to get your attention. “Introduce them.” he said, pushing the booth microphone towards you. 

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked. 

“Introduce them! This is a concert, you have to tell everyone who they are!” He said again. “You said you’d give the signal so give it!”

“What are you talking about, that’s their job! I’m just here to push the buttons and-” 

“Just do it!” Dustin pushed the button to turn on the mic and shoved it in your face.

For a moment, you were suddenly back on stage at the middle school talent show, with the hot lights beating down on you. You were back in the theater with Chris Morrison before you even had a chance to audition. You were in the back row (fuck the back row) dancing and yelling at a screen with dozens of people as you watched a movie you had seen a dozen times before. 

Something inside of you snapped and you grabbed the mic. 

“And here they are to close out todays’ ceremony, let’s all put our hands together for Hawkins High School’s favorite Hellions- Corroded Coffin!” 

The reception to your introduction ranged from luke-warm to confused. You saw a few people clapping, but most people had no idea what was going on. 

If the reception put off the band, they didn’t let it show for a moment. They took off like a rocket, flying high with a bust of energy as they launched into their first song. Higgins stood there, gobsmacked as they played, his face a bright shade of red that you could see even from here. He attempted to yell, but it was no good. 

Then, the oddest thing started to happen. 

It started with the graduates, as they all stood up and started to cheer. You tore your eyes away from your boyfriend long enough to see people clapping. You weren’t sure if they thought that Corroded Coffin was actually good, or if they all just thought it was part of the ceremony but it was happening. 

Higgins turned to the crowd, still fuming with anger, but froze as people started to warm up to the band on the make-shift stage. Slowly, the excitement moved backwards from the Graduates on the field to the bleachers. 

Sure, there were some parents who were quickly grabbing their kids and ushering them out of the area as quickly as possible, lest the Devil take their soul for daring to be in the same vicinity of someone playing an electric guitar. But be it by genuine curiosity, novelty, or seeing Corroded Coffin as you saw them, people were staying. 

With the court of public opinion swaying in their favor, Higgins had no choice but to storm off the stage in a huff. That’s what you liked to believe at least. 

Corroded Coffin flew through two songs without stopping, so deeply in the zone they seemed to forget where they were and who they were playing for. 

As the guitar shrieks came to a close, Eddie signaled for his band to stop. 

He looked out at the crowd of people, who were (for the most part) cheering for him. His eyes went wide, and you wondered if anyone at school ever gave him any sort of positive attention like this outside of his friends. 

Stunned for just a moment, he grabbed the mic and leaned forward. “Thanks everyone, we have one more song before we close out this whole thing.” he said. “For the past, oh, six years, I’ve been fighting my way out of the bullshit that is Hawkin’s High school. It took me longer than expected but now I’m proud to announce that your resident Freak is now going to be set loose on the town during regular school hours.” Eddie grinned wickedly, and you saw a few parents and students shift uncomfortably. “Get ready Hawkin’s because this year Corroded Coffin has officially been signed!”

Cheers and confusion rang through the stadium. You couldn’t stop smiling and you felt your eyes start to water. You were just so damn proud of Eddie in that moment. 

Eddie’s gaze moved to the announcer booth, and you could feel that he was looking at you. He extended a finger towards you and called out your name. 

“This one’s for you.” 

You felt your heart jump in your chest and your face heat up a million degrees. Eddie’s guitar started on a riff that you had heard so many damn times it was nearly seared into your brain. 

But, you hadn’t heard them play this song before. The idea had always been three songs, but this song was not part of the line up. When had they learned this one? When had they practiced this one? 

You held your hand over your mouth as Eddie started to sing. 

“It’s astounding. Time is fleeting... Madness takes its toll...”

There was still a part of you that stung thinking about those days at the theater, but seeing Corroded Coffin on stage, playing something that he knew had meant so much to you... 

Rocky Horror. Eddie was singing Time Warp from Rocky Horror.

That absolute jerk. How dare he tell you that he loves you and then runs off before you could respond, and then plays this?! 

This just confirmed what you had known for months now. You were in love with Eddie Munson.

When Officer Hopper came up to the booth, looking at you, Dustin, and Nancy, he seemed more annoyed than angry. You quickly surrendered the controls to him, letting him pull the plug on Corroded Coffin. You loved Eddie, but you also wanted to minimize whatever trouble everyone was about to get in. 

You were escorted off the campus by Hopper who said that Higgins wouldn’t press charges as long as you and Eddie swore to never step foot on the school grounds again. Easy enough, with Eddie’s diploma safe in hand now. 

Wayne had laid into Eddie for being an idiot, but it was clear his heart wasn’t really in it. How could it be with Eddie smiling like a maniac the whole time, still high off the thrill of his takeover of the school that had shunned him for so long?  

There were pictures taken. In true Eddie fashion he held his diploma proudly as he flipped off the camera. A copy of that photo would sit on your bedside table for many years after that. 

Paige dropped by the Munson trailer that night, cackling maniacally at how insane Eddie had been for using his own graduation for the concert. Eddie, of course, had given you all the credit for the idea. 

Corroded Coffin did not get the front page, despite Nancy Wheeler’s best efforts. They did get the starring headline for the entertainment section though. Your name was even mentioned in the article, as Nancy couldn’t leave out Eddie’s dedicated song to you. 

That article was also framed and hung up in your small living room, and after reading it at least once a day, it wasn’t long until you had it memorized. 

You couldn’t pinpoint the day that Eddie officially moved in that summer. At one point he came over for a movie night and just... never left. It became so easy to just have him stay the night, wake up next to you, fight over stupid things like how late he stayed up to play guitar or what to make for dinner. 

And, of course, as Corroded Coffin’s appointed emotional support fan, you were there the day that they stepped into the recording studio, this time as an officially signed band. 

When Paige had said that they had been setting up a new studio near Hawkins, the last place you expected for that to be was the old theater. You had froze outside of the building, the marquis had been torn down, and the radio tower now loomed over you instead. You had avoided being anywhere near this area since that day in November, and now here you were with your boyfriend as he got to live out his dream in the theater where you had one day hoped to live out yours. 

Jealousy wasn’t the word you were sure you were feeling. There was something there, maybe more akin to disappointment or irony at the situation. Whatever it was, you shoved it down. The past was the past, and were the odds that Chris would be there...?

Pretty high, actually. 

Chris was standing next to his dad, glaring a hole in the newly installed carpet of what had once been the theater lobby. Paige shook Papa Morrison’s hand and took some keys from him. You froze when Chis looked up and made eye contact with you, but Eddie squeezed your hand protectively and all Chris could do was cross his arms and follow his dad out of the theater with his tail between his legs. 

You’d learn much later from Robin (who heard from Columbia), that Papa Morrison had never intended to keep the theater, just hold it to sell out to someone else. Rage hadn’t been the feeling you had felt, but something between anger and disappointment conflicted with the fact that Corroded Coffin was finally getting the start they deserved here. 

Summer had never felt so bittersweet. 

It wasn’t all disappointment though, there were certain perks that came with being with the band. Every time they were in the studio, you found yourself talking to the staff, learning more about how studios worked, and that this specific studio was special. The radio tower that had been placed on top wasn’t just for show, Paige had decided that the best way to get Left Turn on the radio was to become a 2 in 1 radio station. 

You were enamored instantly. 

While Corroded Coffin worked with writing and playing, you found yourself bothering anyone who would talk to you until Paige decided that it would just be easier to allow you to intern with them on the radio side. 

You didn’t even bother giving Keith your two weeks notice. Your ugly polyester vest was dropped off with your last movie rental and keys. You hugged Steve and Robin, thanked them for everything that they had done for you and never looked back. Thankfully, you didn’t have to go to that store ever again, as there was a new rental chain called Blockbusters starting up right down the street from your home. 

“So, they’re really going to let you play Time Warp as your bonus track?” you asked one night as Eddie restrung his guitar. “I thought there’d be like, copyright stuff or something like that.”

“Paige explained it to me, it’s a bunch of weird legal loopholes but that’s the plan.” He said, plucking one of the strings. 

“And you’re good with it?” you asked, taking a strand of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “It’s not exactly about fighting demons or D&D.”

“Maybe not, but it’s the song that helped us get signed.” Eddie reached up to take your hand in his, and you laced your fingers together. “I have a soft spot for it.” 

“I hope you all get to shoot a music video for the cover.” you smiled. “I would pay anything to see you in Tim Curry’s lingerie.” 

“Not in a million years.” he laughed and kissed your hand before letting go. He fiddled with his guitar, checking the tuning as he started playing. You always found the electric guitar a little funny sounding, especially when it wasn’t plugged in. 

Eddie’s voice had gotten better over the last few months since Corroded Coffin started working professionally, but there was something about his voice that was distinctly him. Something raw and real, that couldn’t be replicated or trained. 

“I love you, Eddie.” you said, interrupting the chorus. He stopped and looked up at you with a grin. 

“I love you, too.” Eddie said back, and you leaned in and kissed him again. 

Let’s do the Time Warp again

Let’s do the Time Warp again. 

a/n: Well folks, this is it! This is the official last chapter of Wing Man. The epilogue and post-credit scene will come out on Friday (the one year anniversary of me posting chapter 1!). I'll have more to say about that later, but for now, thank you all for the support. I couldn't have done this without you all <3

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

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[captain-mj]

09Soapghost heellll yeah. Captain MacTavish going uno reverse and going aha now you can’t get rid of me. Prepare to be made to heel

You got the psychic messages I was adding to the post

It started with the interrogation. That was it. With Ghost breaking that person down to nothing with Soap's help. If Soap gave a suggestion, which he did only when he wasn't sure he could stomach doing it himself so rarely, Ghost would do it.

Right now, he was running a flame over one of his knives, no doubt about to do something awful with it while Soap sat in front of the guy, waiting for the fear to build enough for him to back down.

And when Ghost put the burning red knife next to his eye, swaying it slightly like he might just drop it on him, he broke. He blabbered on and on and on about this and that and whatever. Soap took the important things down.

"Can I see my wife?"

Soap was just about to answer when Ghost did. He never spoke during things like this. Not wanting people to hear his voice. But Price had told him to kill the guy afterward and that was enough for him to not care. "Yeah. You can see her." He cocked his gun and put it between his eyes.

"My wife isn't dead." The man looked angry.

"Course she is. Suicide to be exact. Apparently a couple of our boys got a little rough. Made some comments. I wonder, did she kill herself to prevent being defiled or because she was afraid of being used against you? Which one? Did she love your country more than you? Just like you did her."

The man started to curse and sob and bitch in Russian.

Ghost let him for a moment, enjoying this Soap realized, before moving the sunglasses to the top of his head to uncover his eyes. "Look me in the eyes. I want to see you die."

The gunshot was loud and it echoed. And Ghost put the gun back in place.

"His wife is safe and sound in a house not too far from here. Why did you lie?"

"So when he gets to whatever afterlife there is, he searches for her for years, not know she just isn't there yet. I like the think the grim reaper is in on the joke and plays along."

"You're a sick fucking bastard." Soap said and meant it.

Ghost looked at him. And those eyes... stone cold dead. Nothing fucking there. On anyone else, they'd be gorgeous. Beautiful browns like several of the sweet little things Soap picked up at bars. But there was not a hint of emotion in those things at all. "You know I am."

That's when Soap realized that Ghost was a little feral. Demented even. Something was Fucking wrong with him.

It didn’t scare him as much as it should. His head gets a little fuzzy at the thought actually.

There were other moments. Times where Ghost would be a little more fucked up around him. Letting Soap catch him licking one of his knives or purposely dragging out someone's death for his own pleasure.

Somehow it was made worse by the moments of Ghost's humanity. HIs humming. His inane way of making tea and how he disliked coffee and his stupid jokes. It was at such odds with the way he looked at him, dangerous and mutant.

Until Soap found himself cornered by Ghost who was trying to tower over him despite their size difference being laughably small. Only an inch or so. And his shoulders weren't that bad, but they weren't much against his own. Riley just wasn't doing a good job of being intimidating, especially considering Soap had seen him do far better with enemies.

"MacTavish." He growled at him.

Soap looked at him. "Simon. Heel, boy."

Ghost stared at him blankly, only those dead black eyes looking at him.

"You're not getting rid of me, Simon. So go ahead and get used to it."

He scoffed like Johnny was the dumbest motherfucker ever. "You don't own me. Can't tell me what to do."

"Heel, Simon." Soap whispered at him, patting his side. "You're not going to get my attention like this."

Riley growled at him again.

"That's your problem. Can barely touch ya. You hide under that mask like a coward. So you skulk around and hope I'll kick you away."

Riley made a ragged noise and almost barked at him. "Fuck you."

"I'll kick you when I want." Soap hissed and shoved him to the side, noticing how he moved so easily.

That exchange was why he didn't feel as much as surprise as one would expect to find Ghost unmasked in his room late at night, knife in hand.

Soap looked at Riley, watching his breathing as ragged as it was. Looking at how he looked defenseless despite holding a knife. He flipped it in his fingers and held out the handle.

“Captain, I’d let you do anything to me.” His tone was steady, even maybe a tad breathless. There was no hesitation or pain in the admittance.

Soap frowned at him but his interest was undeniable piqued. “Anything I wanted?” He took the knife and dragged it along his jugular. Just letting him feel it.

It was the first break in the facade. A small painful sound. “Yes. Anything. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“For giving you this burden.” Ghost choked out. “Anything you want.”

Soap shouldn’t push. He knew Ghost didn’t say things like this lightly. But he did anyway. “Even sex? I know how you are.”

Ghost shivered but it wasn’t from fear. His pupils were blown and he reacted like he had not considered this option. “I haven't had sex in years. But if it would please you. I’d let you fuck me however you want. Even if it’s the same way they did. Even if it's worse. As long as it's you."

“You’d let me kill you.” Soap waited for something. A survival instinct of some kind. But Ghost licked his pretty lips.

“Johnny, if you asked, I’d beg you to. If that’s what you wanted.”

“Beg.”

Ghost gently grabbed the wrist that was controlling the knife as it went further down but still didn’t cut. He just needed the stability. “Please. Whatever you want. You want me dead? Do it. I’ll write up a note saying i asked for it. You want me kill someone for you and I will. Bleed me dry, Johnny. I’ll enjoy it.”

Soap looked at where he was clearly hard in his pants. “Should I get you off first?”

“If you think I deserve it.” Ghost exposed his throat for him, swallowing.

The knife hit the floor and Soap kissed him properly. Really kissed him. He dragged him up and out of the chair. Ghost sobbed against his mouth but he ignored it, instead laying him out over his desk.

Soap wasn’t cruel. He could be stern and mean but cruelness was never his thing. And in this moment, he wished nothing more to be cruel. To be able to rend Ghost down in a way that he clearly needed.

Instead, he undid his belt. "Simon."

"Yes, sir?" Ghost looked at him, biting his lip delicately.

"I am going to fuck you. Gonna let you sit there and just feel it. Be real good to you. And when I'm done, you're going to warm my cock under my desk."

Ghost softened, eyelashes fluttering. If not for the scars, he'd be model material. But Soap preferred him with the scars. "Thank you."

He kept lotion at his desk, something that Gaz usually teased him over, but it was perfect for right now. Using a generous amount to make it easier for him. One finger in and he already felt tighter than anything else Soap had fucked in... ever. "You weren't kidding. Practically a virgin huh?"

Ghost tensed up and Soap could feel it around his finger. "Hey, it's okay. I like it. Feels like I'm getting to break you in."

A sweet moan. "Yes. You want me to tell you how big you feel? I know you're probably packing. I'll even exaggerate. Tell you how you're breaking me."

"Only if that's what it really feels like." Soap assured, realizing just how much of a freak Ghost was. And subsequently how much of a freak he was himself, because this was all getting him going. Still, he worked him open until he could easily take three fingers and the lotion was starting to overflow.

Soap knew what he had. He had been turned down by a partner or two because of the size. And the way Ghost arched to keep taking it. Thighs trembling. It gave him a sense of satisfaction.

"I don't need to make you crave me. You already do."

"Yes, sir." He sounded strained but he managed the words.

"How do you feel?"

Ghost put his forehead against the soft wood. "Like you're breaking me." He shook and sobbed, but Soap knew if he pulled that pretty head up and made him look at him, there wouldn't actually be any tears.

A slow gentle push and pull. Soap didn't mind, the tightness and the pressure doing everything he needed. Ghost never asked for more. Though if it was because he was pleased, it was too much or he'd only take what he was being given was a mystery.

He abused his prostate. Mentally tallied how many times he hit it dead on as Ghost's body betrayed him. Causing his hips to cant up for more or his body to thrash until he fell against the desk like his strings had been cut.

And then Soap felt the tell tale tightening around his cock. Rhythmic and still desperate. "You came?"

Ghost nodded against the desk but didn't show his face. The back of his neck was a bright red.

"So the dead can blush."

Soap sped up a little, focusing on his own pleasure, and Ghost would clench every time he went all the way in, and then he came too. Deep inside so Ghost would struggle to clean it out.

Ghost got up and got on his knees. Soap gave him his shirt back so he wouldn't be half dressed.

"My life is yours." Simon Riley mumbled to him and the look he gave him was the same dead eyed stare as always.

Soap smiled at him anyway. "Thank you. It's a gift I'll appreciate."

For a brief moment, there seemed to be something like contentment in Ghost's eyes before closing his eyes and starting his job of pleasing his Captain.

[missmarveledsblog]

Not just a flower child huh? ( logan howlett x reader ) part 7

summary : stryker is getting more ready while y/n tries and fails to sneak bub into the school , she meets another and past student of the school while logan is sick of feeling like the butt of the jokes.

warning: not many slight angst but not really this is like a filler chapter some fluff pieces , grammatical errors and spelling mistakes

previous part

 Failure to  an ego that well was too big for the man it belonged to is always a recipe for disaster . especially when the ego was beaten and bruised in every way expected when it was though a different result would happen . a bigger reputation , more power  he wanted more than whatever was giving no matter what , no matter who was broken and beaten in the way , he was prepare to lie and manipulate to get what he wanted. By any means necessary it was going to happen . he watched over the tapes as it repurpose his drive to get her back . watched  her grow in a sequence of tapes that didn’t make him even flinch , not the way she cried and beg them to stop. He watched each power coming to light after the torture she would subsequently pass out from  , watching the wounds he and his men inflicted  slowly fading  but yet faster than the last time “ progress” it was put down to . Then  the tape of that day he watched Her scream , heard their screams the flash distorted in the lense Of the camera  the usual vine now glowing  , the way the flames took hold , he watched As she cut them like butter each man falling to an agonizing death and seemed as She wasn't stopping the sobs and harrowing Cries almost like a mother who lost her child . It was only when he seen Himself , holding gun to the cage she stopped it was almost Touching if she was human that when she was knocked Out .  The fight In her that day died  keeping to the cage like the animal she and rest Of mutant scum were . 

Amusement laced On his face logan watched Her hide the Little kitten In her top tip toe through the main entrance . 

“ y/n dear would you and your new friend come To my office please … i don't mean logan “ charles Passed bye  as she sighed. 

“ two minutes  impressive “ logan chuckled.

“ he is good” she rolled her eyes already thinking of arguments for Bub to stay . Walking Down the hall with the pitiful Fluff ball in her arms as jean And storm passed by giggling . 

“ only you would find someone In need” scott ruffled her hair making her glare. 

“ im not puppy” she Gruffed. 

“ come on sweetheart” logan led Her down the hall as she walked In Holding the little kitten closer to her chest almost pleading with logan to help her . 

“ my dear Please come in” charles Smiled. 

“ in my defense Is place For the forgotten no , the ones in need?”she blurted out instantly . 

“ mutants yes” he chuckled. 

“Who i to say bub isn't mutant , he could be very Special kitten” she stood a little taller . “ he Is baby that needs help to” She added. 

“ actually my dear i think it a good idea all the same but it not to be a habit” charles Smiled softly. 

“ he will die , you wouldn't want him to … wait i can keep him” she stood shocked. 

“ jean and storm are going to get what he needs , and scott is Going to get a vet friend that will help check him over , this is only time though” he added . 

“ you scared me , you hear that bub you have home” she lifted him up only for little mew to coming out as she headed out of the room ready to show the kids . 

“ your getting soft in your old age” logan smirked .

“ she been through too much , it would be good for her” he smiled . 

“ yep Definitely  soft” he laughed . 

“  i think in this case i am , somethings In humanity still have a way of shocking me the low of depravity That poor woman has Suffered an ounce of a soft moment is warranted” he explained , he didn't lie ,when he thought He'd  Seen it all and yet once more it all Was nothing Compared to the atrocities  he had seen her deal with on a daily basis . 

She sat watching a man well she thinks a man  the blue Fur covered him head to toe as she watched Him closely Checking over the kitten. 

“ you are a funny vet” she finally spoke. 

“ you must be Y/n , name is hank mccoy im not a vet  but i am able to check him over one beast To another” he chuckled holding his hand out . 

“what beasts” she asked looking around the room honestly curious  it was oddly  endearing , it wasn't a show  Or a facade she was genuinely curious . 

“ he means him and bub , his name is beast like mine is wolverine” logan explained. 

“ i've met beast he is not one” her head tilted. 

“ and you my new friend  are a breath of fresh air , lets dry him off now ” hank chuckled. 

“ i can do that” she nodded waiting for him to move to the side hold Her hand letting The air  not so heavy Cast over The kitten making him fluffier.

“ remarkable” hank whispered. 

“ she Like a box Of gifts” logan smirked . 

“ he only says that when i ice his beer” she rolled her eyes ready to take the kitten to show the kids . “ or fire up the pit or cigars ” she added. 

“ have they began your training ?” Hank asked . 

“ training? “ she turned brows furrowed. 

“ she not here for that furball , he thought you would be xmen” logan explained. 

“ im not hero material” she laughed understanding Walking out The lab . 

“ she humble huh?” He chuckled . 

“ no she just thinks she a monster think we all can relate to that feeling” Logan stood watching where she once Stood only moment before .

 “ i never though i would see this” hank stood . “ seen what” . 

“ the great wolverine in love”  he patted his Back . 

“ have i not Shown time and time again im not made of stone you know start sick of you all like im an emotionless Asshole” he huffed .  “ let me guess it was a joke huh?” He stormed off sick and tired. 

 yeah he was rough Around the edge not  a suck upike summers but hes proved time and time again he cares , he has feeling just like rest of em . sure he doesn’t show Them often but he's let himself get vulnerable enough to get message across or so he thought did they really Think So low of him. 

“ whats His Name” the little voice called only turn to see y/n crouched all kids not just her own standing around . 

“ bub , he named after good man , yes he grumpy but big heart “ she smiled . “ now i best get him to my room for nap but will bring him out Later ok” she stood cradling the kitten to her chest . 

“  seem she share Same sentiment we all do” charles  seemed to Always  had to appear . 

“ could of fooled me” he scoffed. 

“  you know we care deeply for you logan” . 

“ then why does feel like im the butt Of every joke” he asked  heading off once more .  Walking down the hall  already hearing her voice like his ear alway pick hers in a sea of noise .  he could of been in  the crowd  of a metal concert and he would hear her sweet melody filled voice  like she was talking directly in his ear  . he could tell she was singing , what he couldn’t tell but he had a feeling it was a song her grandmother sang to her . he walking more quietly watching she was singing to the kitten rubbing it’s head as it lay on her bed. Never in his life did logan ever find himself actually wishing he was a “ kitty” . the softness of the touch on the fur , the pure smile on her face as she watched bubs little eyes closing til she went to turn and see logan standing at the open door. 

“ how long were you standing there” she sat up properly. 

“ to hear you singing the lullaby to a cat” he smirked. 

“ he’s a baby cat or not , i sang it to the kids too used to get them to sleep maya really loved it” she smiled watching the kittens steady breathing. 

“ maya?” he asked confused .  

“ she was one of the children that did not make it “ she barely whispered . 

“ i’m sure bub loves it too although i’d say anyone would “ he came more into the room . 

“ maybe i should sing it to you , maybe you sleep” she blinked innocently at him . 

“ here's me thinking you liked my company at night” he arched his brow. 

“ i like your company all the time” she smiled , a genuinely honesty to her words . 

“ well least someone does” he sat at the desk looking down to see the books she had trying to learn to read english , she could speak it  almost fluently but reading it still seemed to be a challenge.  

“ i like your company too sweetheart , tomorrow we are continuing our walk around the park i’m sure we have lots ready to watch bub”. 

“ you know family is what they treat you , family teasing i say my brother is mainly the brawn and no brain , same way they tease you don’t think badly” she finally said. 

“ reading my thoughts ?” he asked hoping she didn’t   and see it all . 

“ i don’t need to read it , i heard you and as you call him hot wheels .. i was being nosey” she shrugged . 

“ yeah well nosey what else did you hear?” he asked almost nervously. 

“ just you giving out , but they do see you as family  , they joke but they care “ she smiled eyes turning to the kitten . 

“ you’re something you know that ,  how are you this nice after everything” . 

“ because i know what the other side is like” . 

“ well  i better get going sweetheart  i’ll see you later  i have to go to the simulation room” he stood feeling less upset and  more himself  which again she seem to bring out of him so easily out of him . it honestly at the start scared the shit out of him and yet in her true fashion she was able to quell that fear instantly she was even able to get him to sleep better after their midnight time together.  

“ simulation room ? how many rooms does this place have” she asked almost slightly shocked . 

“ i mean the professor added more each time it was blown up but hey it gives it character” he walked out the room . 

“ blown up  hey come back here .. what do you mean blown up” she called after only to hear a small laugh travel up the hall . 

Maybe he could run , get out of here and warn her then again it wasn’t just him at risk. If he left here well his family would suffer too , stryker made sure they had everything to lose that’s why his risk wasn’t just something he thought of on a whim it could of had dire consequences . but something told him how his family would see it all , his wife honestly he couldn’t tel her .yet he knew if she did know she would of told him do the same , she hated he worked for stryker , she hated how the whole anti-mutant agenda and it sickened him that why he took the job. He had his own reasons to hate them but even the mutant he hated most subjected to what he watched test subject 0224 or by her name y/n rasputin . no one knew she was a family of an xmen , stryker kept that information to himself til when she was in the cage first she told them all how her brother was a man of metal and steel who would come and save her , that they would all pay. More and more he slowly felt the guilt creep in , his views on mutants slowly changed this  little girl at the time showed him they weren’t all monsters , destructive murdering animals he thought they were . but he had a job to do and over time that job was becoming more meaningless especially when they brought more children he saw first hand how she protected them , how she made sure nothing could get close and yet in a way she made sure she never actually hurt anyone even the ones who hurt her.  DR. Thompson wasn’t there when the dreaded day happened but he seen how she was after it , nothing they could do to her physically made her look more in distress or in despair as when he saw her after it .  everything this woman was made to endure well it had it’s ending point and that risk to get her out well it was worth it all and for once he needed to do the right thing . now he was praying on strykers downfall watching as they  packed up the old lab ready to move to a more secure area  , one he seen no escape from if she was caught again . maybe another risk was needed  as he looked down at the plane ticket for new york .

part 8

taglist: @oscarissac2099 @ayamenimthiriel @mega-kittyglitter-1

[verdemoun]

@alphabetpal your beautiful mind

Kieran constantly doubts his relationship with the gang. The slightest hint of annoyance and he is mentally preparing himself to be thrown out. Overthinks interactions constantly. He still thinks he needs to be useful to have a purpose to the gang, which is why asking him to 'help' with something is such a quick way to over-ride the change is scary part of his brain and introduce new things. He keeps a backpack ready with the bare necessities for survival if he did need to run. Over years, later decades, it might collect dust, but the backpack never goes away.

One of the reasons he retreats into his room when distressed is to re-pack his bag and make sure he has everything he couldn't live without. When Hosea was in hospital, he was not doing well. He cried because not only would losing Hosea be devastating, because Hosea is decent to him and they spend so much time together, but he was preparing himself to lose his home. He went through his bag a dozen times trying to figure out what he would need, certain Arthur or Bessie was going to turn around and blame him for Hosea getting sick and throw him out.

But Kieran and Bessie. If he ever thought Bessie was actually mad at him, it might kill him. Bessie is a lifeline because she wasn't there in canon era. She has no obligation to him. He whole-heartedly believes Hosea, Lenny and Arthur, despite being some of his favorite people, are only so much nicer to him in modern era because of the guilt of seeing what happened to him: both during the VDLs and his death.

He still feels like the pretender. Hosea might be like a dad to him, but he isn't his dad the way he is for Lenny and Arthur. Hosea is still Mr Matthews, right-hand of the VDLs, and he is still a former-O'Driscoll. That feeling never goes away, and every time someone else timewarps it comes back tenfold. It is a subpoint in picking up someone new from canon era is making it clear that Kieran is one of them and the 1899 gang will defend him if needed because they know how sensitive he is to that fear of being thrown out or pushed aside.

Bessie is his mom. She is so overwhelmingly kind and patient, and she has no reason to be. He was so suspicious of it at first, because people aren't just nice. Begging to know what he can do to repay her for buying him clothes because no one just gives people things. Maybe she would turn around one day and suddenly demand everything returned or repaid? She was already referring to him as her son when Kieran was still working his way through 'is she doing this because she pities me or could it actually be possible someone doesn't mind my presence'. Of course it took months for her to convince him to call her Bessie instead of Mrs Matthews.

Hosea being in hospital was actually the event where Kieran's brain finally clicked 'yes Bessie does actually like me as a person' only to steamroll into 'this is my mom and I love her and would kill or die for her'. Hospitals are sensory hell, and Kieran has his own trauma with hospitals after the first day he timewarped he is flinching and holding his sleeve over his nose because the smell of disinfectant feels like it burns. The fact he even came along was deeply touching to Hosea, how explicit the action in itself made it clear Kieran does worry and care about him. But hospitals are hell. Once he was satisfied Hosea was actually going to be okay, and was doing better, Kieran politely excused himself.

After making sure her silly husband and their poor emotional sons were okay, Bessie tracked Kieran down like a man on a mission. Sure enough, Kieran had found his way to the smoking area, because he is also one of the more useless members of the gang when it comes to quitting - and a smoking area is usually quiet, tucked away from everything, and smoking in itself is a sensory break. When Bessie Matthews held out a hand, Kieran was so shocked he almost dropped his own cigarette.

Bessie laughed and told him not to look at her like that. She has quit, quit long before the gang got to modern era - but sometimes she just needs a cigarette. Her husband being in hospital and son about to get arrested for assaulting the next nurse to walk into the room was a good enough reason to need a cigarette. It would have to be their secret. Immediately Kieran is at ease because being trusted with a secret as scandalous as the Bessie Matthews smoking is hilarious.

She proceeded to tell him about her plan to hide the cigarettes at home, which Kieran found very amusing (honestly they all have at least one pack tucked away for bad days), and also warning him that Kieran was not to give him a cigarette. She knows her husband is a bastard and would ask Kieran first because he thinks Kieran is too much of a gentle soul to say no but she was expressly giving him permission to say no and to go to her if Hosea tries to pull any funny business. When he agreed, she smiled, very gently put a hand on his shoulder and said something to effect of 'that's my boy'.

Even if she's said it a hundred times before it was the first time his brain noticed. The two of them stood there together, not needing to talk, having a very sneaky cigarette outside of the hospital, Kieran feeling a little warm and fuzzy because Bessie Matthews had decided he was her boy and it felt nice. She proceeded to let him sit in the car to avoid the escalation that was no doubt going to happen in the hospital room and it really just sank in that all those efforts to make sure he's content and happy is because she genuinely cares and thinks of him as one of her boys.

[akpaley]

Kaijja's slightly complicated love life has been made more complicated by the fact that Kavsa's dead wife was, in fact, undead and still around, raising important questions like "why the fuck would you promise to stay with me if I die if you couldn't bend your oaths for your actual wife?"

If you want to read about Kaijja's divorce, a couple thousand words about that under the cut.

Summer winds its way through the Issanari, the sun tilting south in its journey from Al Anar to the distant western shores. Your band of votaries mend structures, resolve disputes, carry the news and cure the sick. Dawn prayer comes early and sunset prayer late. The child in your belly grows and you administer prayers for safe childbirths and safe sex with special reverence for the stories and scripture. From the way you speak of it Jean would think the petitioner saints invented motherhood. You accuse him of taking you literally, which he is, and he accuses you of attempting poetry, which you are. You imagine leaving your daughter summers of poems, gathering a collection of fleeting moments to remember and show her when she has her first child. This was what it was like. This was you.

You sit together amidst the scattered light beneath the trees, resting your tired body while somewhere across the golden grass Tanvi waters the quards. Jean has looped an arm around your waist, fingers lightly touching your belly as he softly enumerates all the work he looks forward to suffering at your side and things he cannot wait to show the child within. 

"Give me some time to finish growing the little one first, hmm?" You quirk your lips at him and he pulls you to the side until your head rests in his lap. You reposition to lay on your back and look up at him, still holding his hand. "What are we going to name her?"

"Her?" He smiles warmly. "How do you know it's a girl?"

"I was visited by Saint Adja herself, she told me so in a dream." You laugh together at the ridiculousness of presuming to know the future and imagine your daughter laughing with you. 

Jean no longer wants you to hunt for pests or drive off predators, and you easily relinquish tasks that you never had talent at to begin with. A wyvern harasses a community deep in the northern hills and you tell Jean and Tanvi to make preparations while you ride to ask assistance from the folk you know cultivate the forest upriver. You can feel his relief, but he insists on riding you to the edge of the wood before sending you on your way. More contentious are the tasks you will not relinquish. You don't need to investigate rumors of a demon, he says, you met Shiral's band two days ago, send word and let them handle it. It turns out to be a medial, but Jean is furious with you for leading the ride to meet it. Were it actually a demon you doubt he would have been able to convince it to leave himself. That's not the point, he tells you with uncharacteristic tautness in his voice, you could have been killed. The fact that you could also be killed if your quard spooks and you fall seems unconvincing, as much as the reality that you are, in fact, fine. 

When you descend alongside the Second Son, lightning drawing back into the earth, you return a symbol. When in a month people you have never met speak your name, it will be for this moment and they will not bother to undercut its virtue. The entire rest of your life will be predicated on what you have done today. Jean cannot even look at you. 

Autumn brings storms, but not like this. Lightning shouldn't strike upward, so there's no fight as you curve your path into its shadow, but the silence is tense and worried. As you near the center you can feel the air crackle, sharp and angry against your skin. The quards bleat in agitation as you bring them to a stop in the settlement at the base of the hill, a small collection of wooden structures spread across three dirt roads. Your companions dismount quickly. Tanvi helps you down off your own testy animal and you feel a clip of static as your feet touch the earth. People stand close to the buildings, hum of nervous chatter playing against the cracking thrum of lightning arcing off the hill above. You issue orders quickly. 

"Split up, find out if anyone's hurt. Go." 

Jean hesitates. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find out what happened." His eyes linger on you, not quite trusting you not to do something foolish and extreme, so you don't tell him what you're going to do. Instead you say "It's fine, love. I'll be careful," and he goes. 

Once both are out of sight, you will slowly climb the hill, lightning arcing between streaks of red earth all around you. You are not nimble under the best of circumstances, but you are not afraid. You can see yourself in your mind's eye, the image of motherhood ascending through crackling purple death for these people, and you know this will only ever happen once. You are too you not to become a story. 

For what it's worth, Tanvi thinks going home was probably a good idea anyway. "You'll have a community there. The three of us could raise the kiddo on the road, but it's harder." She would know. 

"I have stood by while you did terrifying deadly things, but it's not just your life you're risking anymore. He could have killed you both and there would have been nothing either of us could do about it." Anyone but Jean would be shouting right now. Instead his voice is hard and rough, deriving emphasis from speed rather than volume. 

"Folk are safe and a man lives and I am fine," you answer in soothing tones. "I knew I was going to be."

"Kaijja, you could not possibly have known that. Fuck the scripture for one moment, I know you know what gods are. That man is more dangerous than any demon. He could kill you in pique and forget you ever existed. Damnit, you're lucky he didn't kill you by accident!" He has bypassed the argument that you did not know it was a god at all and a demon might not have been so conversational.

"He wasn't going to kill us." You smile. "Ishxaar is powerful and careless and an ass, but he is still a person."

Jean looks at you with despair in his eyes. "People kill each other, Kaijja."

He doesn't seem to be getting the point, so you reiterate. "Look, Jean, I knew. I felt it. It was right and I was right. Call it fate or intuition or whatever you want, but--"

"I call it gambling, and you will stop doing it with our child's life." In fifteen years of knowing each other it is the first time Jean has ever snapped at you, so you comply.

Your mother is thrilled. She cheerfully rearranges her home to accommodate the two of you, enlists you in spinning thread, and chats to you about parenting you and your siblings in exchange for stories from your travels. Your siblings and friends (yours, theirs, your parents'--your parents' home has always been a parade of friends) make or bring you things--clothing outgrown by your little brother's kid, food from the market and the herds, dry bone and scrap wood for your own crafts. Your father delights in feeding the procession. Your siblings adopt Jean into their routines when he is not out in the community doing votary work, and he blooms as he always does with your family. 

For your part you try to handle the transition gracefully, moving from care to transcription work when spending your days on your feet becomes a problem. At some point the people around you refuse to let you walk up to the cathedral to do it and bring the paper and scripture to your parents' home. You grill them for news and draw them into discussions of stories and scripture and natural philosophy. In what is going to become a theme, you do not like putting aside your work no matter how necessary it is for the child that you rest. Stillness has never been your forte, but as everyone will not stop reminding you, your body is currently doing quite a lot of work. You're just going to have to figure out how to let it. 

You lodge another strike against your motherly intuition by joyously welcoming a son, tiny and screaming and dark like his father. Your parents coo over the little boy while you and Jean insist on speaking to the infant like a tiny adult. "Saiif," your sister tells the baby, "Your parents want you to grow up to be the most erudite child in all the land. I think you should disappoint them by fucking off to be a shepherd in the mountains," and laughs when your mother tries to chase her out of the room for swearing at a baby. 

Saiif doesn't particularly like to sleep, much to your household's chagrin, and you often spend nights wandering the dark of the city with Jean and the restless baby, telling the stories of the stars. Your little brother's four-year-old asks his fathers absurd questions about the new cousin with the grave sincerity of a child tasked with helping the adults. The parade of friends through your parents’ home doesn't stop, but now it comes with parenting advice. You are regularly shooed out of your own home to work or pray or spend some time together. Often, you talk about Saiif anyway. Increasingly, you return to your work.

And then one day during one of your little exiles Mirjat finds you at the bath house, soaking in the warm waters. She joins you in the water and, after a bit of chat, your old mentor informs you that the Herald to Iokhar is intending to retire next year. Does she have any idea yet who the candidates might be to replace him? With things getting complicated in the North it's going to need to be someone who's not afraid to stand up to a difficult god. Ideally someone with an eye to conflict resolution and the record of deeds to prove it. Inevitably unexpected folk will put their names in the ring, but the Clericy always has a shortlist. Who are they going to ask? Well, the Clericy of the Petitioner Saints was thinking about you.

When you share the news with Jean that evening he is uneasy. You have been so wrapped up in planning how you might run a campaign that you had not considered he might not be equally enthusiastic about the thing. When he finally speaks on the matter it is to ask, "Are you certain this is a good idea?" He is concerned that your ties to Adrar--You don't have any--Your husband and son are visibly Adrari. For all that Jean is a votary of Issanar, for all that his parents will never meet Saiif, Jean is Adrari. He does not want the attention your candidacy would bring. He does not want to parade Saiif about to the communities you must convince, does not want your son to be the subject of strangers' scrutiny before he is old enough to speak for himself. 

You chew on that for a little while. You concede Jean’s trepidation is warranted. Perhaps if it were Kahili things would be different, but you want to be Herald to Iokhar, and Adrar is still very much a live security issue for communities in the North. But this will only ever happen once. While Heralds can be unseated, it is rare, and even with advocates of difficult gods oft serving fewer terms, you will never be a more salient figure than you are now. The Clericy has put your name forward because they expect you would be well suited, and they suspect that in the current environment you would win. This is your opportunity to shape the world, to serve your people, to do great works and be part of a lineage that reaches all the way back to the Petitioner Saints. Jean agrees, but he does not want his traditions to become politics. He will not be forced to prove he is Issanari enough to those who would have kept him out if they could. He will not expose Saiif to the same. Your conversation goes in circles for weeks, but ultimately there is no solution to find. You can do this, but he cannot do it with you. You will have to choose.

Later you will argue through tears of rage that Jean cannot leave Tanrilar, cannot take away the son you have barely seen since he started speaking. You will rail against the consequences of your actions as if you had not made the choices, and Jean will listen. Eventually when you have run out of things to say you will fold your arms and lick salt tears from your lips and the man who was your husband will say his piece with a calm but absolute resolve. "I've known you for a long time, Kaijja. For years I enabled you while you took terrible risks and made wonderful things. Now you can do more of both, and I am happy for you. But Saiif is never going to be your priority. So I am going to do what is best for me and for our son." His voice softens, gentler but no less certain. "I love you Kaijja, but this is stronger than your gravity. I promise you will always know where to find us."

You know even then that he is right, but in that moment you will argue and hurl vicious insults regardless, and he will stand there taking it until you have run yourself ragged and worn your voice to sandpaper. It will be almost another year before you apologize. 

Many years later still, over tea Jean will remark without malice that your relationship with your god is kind of perfect. "All the power and love with none of the inconvenience of daily compromise." 

"I compromise!" you complain, smiling.

"Not when someone doesn't convince you that you'll like the new outcome anyway." 

"Not when I don't have to," you'll finally be ready to concede. 

[meowmeow-motherfucker]

Covenant- Chapter 13

Summary: With the five year anniversary of the attack on New York approaching, Odin and Fury come to the agreement that an arranged marriage between Asgard and Earth would show good faith toward all future interactions. When Odin refuses Jane’s candidacy, Agent Coulson is tasked with finding a suitable wife for the prince of Asgard.

Pairing: Loki x OFC Claire Fisher

Word count: 11.3k (prepare drinks and snackies as always)

Chapter warnings: Most of this is me putting our blorbos in situations for funsies, but I promise there is a method to my madness. They're in love, your honor, they just won't admit it! Misunderstandings, arguing, flirting, mild smut, awkward family situations brought to you by Frigga, jealousy, tension between Brodinsons, author watched the film The Proposal and felt inspired, a fourth wall break and a HINT of plot. Also, the research I did for the boating scenes is lacking, so if you see a mistake, please be kind. Your favorite meow meow is dumb.

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtiggerv2 @icytrickster17 @mysteriouslyfriedjellyfish @lokislilkitten @justjoanne242 @amlocked @ddmariegirl @mags-04-blog @sharris8 @meepycheep @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @the-fantasy-loving-angel @jaidenhawke @smolvenger @ladymischief11 @huntress-artemiss

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Thanks for coming along on this journey with me! Buckle up gang :D

Read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51197938/chapters/129363727

Every touch of his hand repulsed her. She hated the rough skin of his hands, the possessive way he grabbed and kneaded her flesh, as though she belonged to him. She did belong to him, Ragna thought mournfully as he pinched her nipples painfully and made her cry out. He'd brought her here against her will years ago, a trophy from the Asgardian foray into her home planet of Krylor. There was no escaping, except for death. Despite her hopeless, vile situation, Ragna did not want to die. She wanted her life to be her own again.

The guard outside her door knocked, respectful as always to Ragna's master, but never to Ragna herself.

“What?!” Her master shouted angrily, making Ragna flinch in fear. He hated to be interrupted, and there was no doubt in her mind that she would be punished for it.

“She's been summoned.”

“By who?!”

“Her majesty the princess royal.” The guard said stiffly. Ragna's master swore under his breath and shoved Ragna away roughly, making her stumble.

“Go see what the bitch wants. I expect you back promptly.” Ragna wanted so desperately to correct him- the princess was lovely, and to speak against her! Righteous indignation swelled in Ragna's breast like a tidal wave and she straightened as she clenched her fists. Just as quickly, the wave dashed upon the shore as she remembered what happened the last time she dared speak back to her master. Her shaking hands affixed her clothes to their proper place as she looked back to the floor in shame.

Ragna left her room, scurrying to the princess' chambers to address her needs. Gunnar opened the door for her as she approached, nodding politely just before she stepped inside.

“Your Majesty.” she curtsied to the princess as the door closed behind her. “I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. How may I be of service?” she asked breathlessly.

“Hi,” Claire greeted her warmly. “I'm really sorry to bug you so late, but I didn't know who else to ask. I'd like some more pillows and I don't know where they're kept. If you show me you can go back-” “No!” The shout burst from Ragna before she could stop it and she froze in fear. She'd never once raised her voice to one of her betters, let alone a member of the royal family.

“Okay, no problem,” Claire laughed off her outburst. “Just thought I'd offer. I figured you're probably sick of seeing me all the time.” Ragna breathed a sigh of relief.

“Not at all, Your Majesty. I apologize, Your Majesty, I-”

“Ragna, what did I say about the honorifics?” Claire asked teasingly.

“On-once per conversation, Your- ma'am.” Ragna looked at the floor, cheeks burning with shame yet again. How could she forget? Stupid, stupid!

“Hey, it's okay. It's late, you must be exhausted.” Claire smiled. Ragna curtsied and scurried off to fetch more pillows for the princess. Feeling rotten for waking the poor woman, Claire sat heavily in the lounge as she waited for her return, picking morosely at the too-perfect stitching on the arm. The one in Loki’s rooms had a small tear (Mochi’s doing), and some insipid love-struck part of her wanted this one to match. When did I turn into this pathetic man-needing wimp? I’m fawning over a Popsicle.

She had every right to be upset. So far her life as Asgard’s princess was nothing like she’d been told it would be- for all intents and purposes, her closest friend had decided she was the enemy, and she was very much nursing a wounded heart, and likely would be for a long time.

Claire was still brooding when Ragna returned, but she looked up with a smile when Ragna appeared with extra pillows in hand. Ragna scurried into the bedchamber and swiftly added the new pillows to the bed, fluffing them all to make sure the princess was as comfortable as possible.

“Thank you Ragna!” Claire got up from the couch when Ragna returned. She’d brooded long enough; she needed to stop thinking and go to sleep.

“You’re very welcome. May I be of any further service?” Ragna replied, wringing her hands in front of her. Claire zeroed in on the nervous behavior immediately.

“That was all I needed…are you alright?” Claire asked.

“Yes, of course,” Ragna nodded, quickly hiding her anxious hands behind her back. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” She gave a final curtsy and turned to leave.

“You too Ragna. See you tomorrow,” Claire offered a friendly wave as the other woman reached the door, smiling when Ragna returned the wave with a confused look. Claire went back to her bed, setting the pillows end to end and collapsing next to them. She curled an arm and a leg over them, snuggling under the blankets to get warm. Tomorrow she would press Ragna for more details. Part of her wondered if she would see Loki tomorrow. “God, I’m pathetic.” She laughed to herself. If only the pillows could grow some black hair and snore.

~~~~

“What do you mean, we’re leaving?” Claire asked dumbly. The queen had arrived in early morning with tea and news: the royal family was going on vacay.

“Did Loki not tell you?” Frigga paused, her spoon coming to a standstill in her porcelain tea cup. “It is our annual trip to the coast. We have gone every year since before Thor’s birth.”

“He failed to mention,” Claire replied flatly. “It must have slipped his mind.”

“He is rather busy, unfortunately.”

“That’s one word for it.” Claire muttered to herself as Frigga chattered away about the ‘adjustment period’ she’d gone through in the early days of her own marriage. Claire absently wondered if Odin had ever treated Frigga the way Loki was treating her. She couldn’t say she would be surprised if he had, but they seemed to tolerate each other- maybe even like each other.

Jesus, was that what she had to look forward to?

“-have your ladies pack your things straight away-” Frigga was still talking, having not noticed her daughter-in-law had checked out mentally. Claire sank back into her seat with a sigh, tea sloshing over her fingers.

“When do we leave?” she asked, watching the dark liquid drip from her palm onto the pristine floor.

~~~~

“The whole thing is horseshit,” Claire growled angrily as she and Ragna worked to pack her things. “No one said anything about a stupid family vacation.” Claire’s other ladies were tidying the rest of the apartment as the two worked in Claire’s bedroom. “Do you know anything about this?”

“Only that is an annual tradition,” Ragna shrugged. “I have never been directly involved before.”

“No?”

“No, my lady,” Ragna laughed politely. “Until I was assigned to you I did much more menial labor.”

“Well at least we’ll both get a break,” Claire said as Ragna zipped up her bag. “Frigga said the place has a dedicated staff, so you’ll get to relax while I’m gone.”

“I’m afraid servants do not get to ‘relax’, my lady.” Ragna replied softly, already sick to her stomach at the thought of the princess being gone. She would surely receive her master’s undivided attention until the princess returned.

~~~~

The realm was baking in the intense summer heat. The government was officially on hiatus for the season, and all creatures seemed to be avoiding the sun, choosing to spend their days lounging in the shade.

The royal family was currently traveling to their private oceanside estate to spend time together without the usual distractions. Odin and Frigga were in their own carriage, while Claire traveled with the princes in another. Loki had been reading since they’d started traveling two days ago, and Claire was trying to stave off boredom by introducing Thor to Breath of the Wild on her switch.

“Marvelous,” Thor exclaimed as he took down a bokoblin with a lightning arrow. “This Zelda is a fine warrior!”

“Dude,” Claire snickered. “That’s Link, remember? Zelda is the princess he’s trying to help.”

“He is very noble,” Thor replied absently, chuckling as he battled the rest of the bokoblins at their campsite. “Yes! Sister! Look at my prize!” he shoved the switch under her nose with childlike excitement.

“That’s a great item, actually,” Claire said excitedly as Thor received a bokoblin mask. “You can wear that next time you find some bokoblins and they’ll think you’re one of them.”

“And then I can slay them all when they least expect it!” Thor cackled, equipping the mask. Claire rolled her eyes fondly, looking across the carriage to see her husband frowning at his book. She nudged his knee with her own.

“Why so serious?”

“I’m reading.” Loki replied in an annoyed tone.

“Yeah I know,” Claire said as she looked out the window of the carriage. She hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer. The Asgardian countryside was beautiful, but the seat of the carriage was starting to make her ass hurt. “Anything interesting?”

“It’s a study of the wildlife in the area around our estate.”

“Loki reads it every year when we travel here,” Thor reported as he mingled with a group of unsuspecting bokoblins. “The book does not change, brother.”

“I realize that,” Loki hissed. “It has been some time since I have read the book, so the refresher is welcome. Besides, there is always something to learn. Just because our areas of interest differ-” Loki was interrupted by the panicked sounds of bokoblins and battle as Thor frantically smashed buttons, his face a comical mask of concentration with tongue sticking out and forehead wrinkled as he fought his enemy. Loki sighed, retreating to his book. “Why do I bother?” Hoping to calm the storm, Claire moved to sit beside Loki. Careful not to encroach on his space too much, she leaned over to look at his book.

“So what kind of wildlife are we talking about?” she asked, looking up at Loki’s stern face. “Is it like Australia where everything wants to kill you?”

“Australia?” Loki looked at her quizzically.

“It’s one of the continents back home. The animals are very dangerous.”

“Yet people travel there?”

“Oh yeah! It’s on my bucket list for sure, although I’m not looking forward to dealing with the spiders.” Loki opened his mouth to reply, forehead wrinkling as he paused.

“I must be misunderstanding,” he said after a moment. “When you say bucket list-”

“OH! It’s a list of things I want to do before I die.”

“I see,” Loki said softly. “And have you accomplished the items on your list?”

“Oh fuck no, there’s too many things on there,” Claire laughed. “Most people don’t get to, because- well because we usually die first. Do you have one?”

“No, I do not have a ‘bucket list’,” Loki scoffed, affronted by the question. “I’ve already accomplished more in my long life than several hundred humans will in theirs.” he said dismissively. Claire frowned as he turned the page. Across from them, Thor groaned loudly.

“Sister! Your machine is dying!”

“What do you mean it’s dying?”

“A little box appeared saying the consoles battery is low. I haven’t the time for this, I’m in the midst of battle!”

“You literally conduct electricity, my guy, just charge it back up.” Beside her, Loki harrumphed and turned a page moodily. Claire glanced over, wondering what the sulking prince’s problem was now.

The first month of their marriage had been wonderful- their honeymoon had been spent in near isolation at the family’s mountaintop cabin. But the second they’d returned to the city it was like a switch flipped. Now, Loki barely spoke to her, and Claire found it difficult to wrap her head around the fact this was the same man who’d once spent hours making her see stars on the daily. Instead of moving into Loki’s chambers like she’d been told she would, Claire had effectively been dumped back into the apartment she lived in before they’d married, and the new friend she thought she had was now more like a stranger. She couldn’t make sense of the change, and she was angry and embarrassed.

Loki didn’t seem to care at all.

In the distance, Claire spotted a large house from the carriage window. A sprawling three story mansion, it seemed out of place in the wild terrain around it. It was a house Claire would expect to see on a Hollywood boulevard, not a reclusive oceanside plateau.

“Holy shit, is that it?” Thor looked up from his battle, smiling in amusement as he watched her all but press her face against the glass like a child at the zoo. Loki barely glanced up from his book, rolling his eyes at the illustration on the page instead.

“Yes, sister, that is ‘it’,” Thor replied. “I’m most excited to show you around! I hope you shall find it a welcome change of pace from the city.”

A lot will have to change for that to happen.

“-we were younger, but the remodel will allow for you and Loki to have your own wing!” Thor continued.

“Do what now?”

“It is customary!” Thor shrugged. “Mother and Father have their own wing, and now you and Loki shall have your own to allow for...privacy…” Thor looked panicked now, glancing between Claire and Loki with growing trepidation.

“Oh do shut up, Thor!” Loki snarled, finally looking up from his book. “You know nothing about what you speak!”

“Perhaps if you paid more attention to your wife-”

“You pay enough attention to her for the both of us!” Loki’s book made a loud thud on the floor as he shot to his feet. The brothers were suddenly at each other’s throats, Claire’s switch falling to the side as Thor abandoned the bokoblins in favor of grappling with Loki. Plush leather squeaked beneath flying limbs as the brothers fought to overpower each other.

“Both of you stop it!” Claire shouted in her best mom voice, shoving the brothers apart into their respective seats. “Don’t make me stop this carriage!”

The brothers continued to glare at each other, but the threat seemed to work. Disgruntled silence took over what little conversation there had been, thick tension settling into the spaces between the three of them.

Thankfully the carriage ride didn’t last much longer. They arrived at the country estate in early afternoon, welcomed by the staff as they flanked the stairs into the large house.

Thor exited first, with Loki right behind him. Despite the stormy look on his face, Loki at least held out his hand to help her get out.

“Intimidating, isn’t it?” Frigga called as she stepped out of the first carriage. “I remember feeling quite small the first time I was brought here.”

“Loki and I go cliff diving each year. You should join us!” Thor crowed excitedly, slapping at Claire’s bicep as he cackled.

“Lady Claire is far too fragile-”

“I am so in,” Claire interrupted her father-in-law. “How high are we talking?” she asked eagerly.

“A good…” Thor lifted his hand, unsure how truthful to be. In years past, the brothers had always underplayed the risk, even though their parents surely knew it. “Forty feet? Perhaps less?”

“Oh,” Claire’s excitement deflated. “Well, I’d still like to see the cliffs at least.”

“Let us get settled in first.” Frigga reigned as the voice of reason, sending her children into the house to unpack before any shenanigans could take place.

~~~~

Thor hadn’t been kidding- she and Loki had an entire wing of the house to themselves. Their own staff, private en suite bathroom, dining room, sitting room, study, and bedroom. There was just one problem.

There was only one bed.

“This is a fanfiction,” Claire muttered to herself as Loki made (in her opinion) a ridiculous amount of noise unpacking his things in the en suite bathroom. “My life is a fanfiction.”

Fucking Frigga.

“There’s only one bed.”

“Yes,” Loki replied as he entered the main room. “My eyes work.”

“Okay, well-”

“Do relax, I am well aware-”

“What do you want me to do?!” Claire hissed quietly. She was determined to at least try not to be at each other’s throats for the entire time here, and rooming with enemy numero uno was already putting a kebosh on her good mood.

“Unpack, for starters,” Loki hissed back. “Honestly-”

“I meant about the bed, jerkwad. I am not sharing a bed with you-”

“No, you’re not,” a pointed snap of Loki’s fingers produced a comfortable looking pallet on the floor. “Will that suffice?”

“Why do you get the bed-”

“For Bor’s sake, woman,” Loki sighed. “The pallet is for me. Take the Odin forsaken bed and stop whining.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Loki abandoned his quest of fluffing the pillow he’d produced to glare at her. “Whatever you think of me I do, in fact, possess a sense of chivalry.” Claire’s laugh cut a sharp swathe through the room, making his scowl deepen.

“Isn’t it a little early for telling jokes?” she scooted past his pallet to go into the bathroom. She wanted to unpack and change for cliff diving before she got too comfortable.

She’d just pulled on her board shorts when Loki stepped into the bathroom.

“Dude, get out!” Claire hissed. “Your gawking privileges are revoked!”

“Gawking privileges?!” Loki scoffed as she pulled her sports bra over her head. He barely saw a flash of silver before her perfect breasts were hidden from his gaze. “The last thing I want to do in all the realms is gawk at you!”

“Lie!” Claire found herself wedged between the door and her husband’s lean, muscular body in an instant as he caged her in.

“I...do...not...lie.” Did anybody order some intensity because damn… “Nothing smart to say?” Loki asked, his gorgeous green eyes blazing with fury as he stared down at her.

If she inched up just a smidge, she could kiss him stupid. And it would be so good.

Do it. Her body pleaded.

Please. Her pussy begged.

Thor chose that exact moment to come crashing through the door.

~~~~

“Uh...Thor?”

“Yes?”

“This is a lot higher than forty feet.” Claire said as she peered over the cliff face. “You wouldn’t have happened to be lying to your mother, would you?”

“Of course not,” Thor laughed nervously. “Boys take risks, this is something all mothers know.”

“Uh huh. How far is it really?”

“Sixty-five feet, perhaps seventy.”

“She cannot jump that, it is far too high,” Loki complained from behind them. “She is fragile-”

“Enough with the fragile bullshit,” Claire huffed. “People have fallen out of airplanes and survived.”

“Flying low to the ground, were they?”

“For your information, jackass, they were flying over 30,000 feet. The standard metric for survival is like 80 feet. There’s plenty of room for me to make the jump and survive.”

“You’d wager your safety on a margin that thin?” Loki scoffed.

“Why don’t I spartan kick you off the cliff and you can tell me if it’s safe?” Claire suggested. “Foot to the chest!” she huffed when both brothers opened their mouths to ask. Thor gasped excitedly.

“Yes, sister, kick me off the cliff! I have never done it that way before!” he pleaded. “Please, it will be so much fun!” Loki looked skeptically at Claire.

“He asked so nicely,” she said defensively. “Alright, step right up,” Thor bounced toward the edge of the cliff eagerly, stepping back until only the pads of his feet remained on the rocky surface. “Ready?”

“Yes!” Thor took another minuscule shuffle backwards, smiling with glee as Claire squared off in front of him. Claire kicked him with all her might, sending the god of thunder tumbling head over heels toward the choppy water, giggling like a child who’d had too much sugar.

“That is rather satisfying to watch,” Loki remarked as they watched Thor plummet toward the water. “You know, this could be considered attempted regicide.”

“Aw, we’ll have matching criminal records!”

“I never attempted regicide-”

“Uh, hello, New Mexico-”

“Fine, that I will admit to,” Loki muttered as Thor finally struck the water. He surfaced with a victorious shout, shaking his sodden hair out of his face. He shouted up to them, flashing a thumbs-up before swimming away from where he’d hit the water. “I am not kicking you off the cliff.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Claire slapped his bicep as she took a few long strides back. “Can you uh, clear the runway?” she waved him aside, giving him time to move his ridiculously tall body aside. “Thanks. See you in the water!” she took a running leap off the cliff, whooping with glee as she hurtled through the air. A few feet before she hit the water, she crossed her arms over her chest, plunging feet first into the dark choppy water. Thor hooted with glee as she resurfaced. The pair high fived when Claire swam over to join him, both of them calling up to Loki to jump.

Loki never was a big fan of heights after his ‘fall’ from the bifrost. Still, he was never one to pass up the opportunity to show up Thor.

He took a running start, and leapt over the edge. He made a clean entry into the dark water, but his seidr sent out a ripple that turned into a wave. When he surfaced, Thor was trying his damnedest to get back to them. Claire had found a perch on a nearby outcropping of rocks.

The slanting rays of the sun appeared from behind the cloud cover, giving her a shimmering appearance as the light reflected off the multitude of water droplets beading her skin. Her face was flushed from exertion as she wrung out the now-tangled mess of her hair. Loki swam toward her as if she were a siren, the familiar flip in his belly returning as she stretched her long legs out, dipping her feet into the water.

Claire cried out when his fingers closed around her ankle, her shriek turning into breathless laughter when he surfaced. She kicked a spray of water at him, jumping into the water beside him with a small splash.

“You survived.” she sounded pleased as her hands skimmed along his upper arms. She tread water just beside him, between him and the rock. The water level sat just above her breasts, augmenting an already delectable view. A gentle wave at his back pushed them closer together.

“So did you.” Loki’s eyes darted up to her eyes but based on her smirk, she’d already caught him looking. He recognized the hunger in her gaze with a smirk of his own. So much for his ‘gawking privileges’ being revoked.

“Told you I would.” another wave her pressed back against the rock, and he was bound by duty and lust to follow.

“So you did.” A bead of water rolled down her neck, catching his gaze. They were chest to chest now, her breasts pushing against him with each gentle rock of the waves.

He felt as though he would burst if he didn’t kiss her. Below the water, his cock throbbed with desire, eager to feel her come undone around him yet again. Her azure eyes dipped to his mouth, a sliver of her lower lip disappearing between her teeth as her grip on him tightened.

“I survived, in case you were wondering!” Thor shouted from a nearby rock, startling them apart. In an instant, the spell was broken and Claire’s hands dropped as though he’d burned her.

“I wasn’t!” Loki shouted back. “The universe surely would have ended if he hadn’t.” he murmured just low enough for Claire to hear.

“Tomorrow, we shall go out on the boat, and fish for our supper,” Thor announced as he climbed onto a rock. “The fish here are huge!”

“Thor, what the hell-” Claire whirled away from her brother-in-law, shielding her eyes from his naked body. “Where are your pants?!”

“What?”

“You’re naked, you oaf!” Loki cried over the crashing of the waves.

“I think I may jump again!” Thor was saying gaily as he twisted his long locks to spatter the rock he sat on with water. His nudity was clearly of no import to him. “The spartan kick was fun, but I think I prefer diving without assistance.”

“I think once was enough for me,” Claire announced, still pointedly avoiding looking in Thor’s direction. “I’m gonna head back.”

“I’ll escort you.” Loki was quick to volunteer.

“I don’t need an escort, it’s a five minute walk.”

“Let me see you to the beach, at least,” Loki offered. They swam around the jetty, walking ashore just around the bend onto the sandy beach. The sun was beginning to go down, the fluffy white of the clouds now slanted and growing gray. “I apologize for Thor’s behavior.”

“Eh, not the first time I’ve seen a dude naked.” Claire shrugged, content to let the conversation die. She’d wanted five minutes alone before she had to share a room with her insanely hot husband. Loki, however, seemed to have no desire to shut up.

“We should fix your hair before we return.”

“Why bother? I’m going to get in the bath when we get back.”

Odin’s beard.

He needed to stay focused. He did not need to be thinking about his wife naked and covered in-

A loud splash from further out to sea caught their attention.

“Are those whales?!” Claire gasped in awe as the mighty beasts broke through the water, creating rainbows in the fading sun as they splashed. She bounced into the surf, a bright smile on her face.

“Close,” Loki replied. “They are hval, very much like your home's whales, although they are bigger.”

“They must be huge,” Claire sighed. “The whales on Earth are the biggest animals on the planet.”

“Hval are very friendly,” Loki said. “Though rather intimidating due to their size. Most avoid them because of it. We may be in luck and see some young. It’s not too late in the year and they are probably still little.”

“Aw. I’d love to see them up close,” Claire murmured. “I always wanted to see whales back home and never got to.”

“Bucket list?” Loki guessed softly.

“Bucket list,” Claire confirmed with a smile, warmth filling her when Loki smiled back. She looked back at the group of hval. “Maybe someday.”

“Why not today?” Loki asked, an idea taking root in his mind. “After all, you are still mortal and may die any day.”

“That’s very true. Humans are lame,” Claire laughed. Loki laughed in surprise as she took his comment in stride. “How are we getting out there? Did you want to take the boat?” Loki grinned. “Also, you have a boat? Why was I not informed of this until now?”

“We could take the boat, but I was thinking of a more…immersive experience.”

“Which is...?”

“Do you trust me?” Loki asked earnestly, offering her his hand. Claire hesitated, eyes locked on the appendage.

I want to.

He was asking a lot of her, he knew, especially given the climate between them prior to this trip. Loki wouldn’t be surprised if she said no.

“I trust you, Loki.” Claire could tell that whatever Loki was offering, it was sincere. Loki smiled as she put her hand in his. Claire watched in awe as he stepped into the surf, the water solidifying beneath his bare feet and becoming a small platform for them to stand on. He helped her step onto the platform, his free hand landing on her lower back for balance. “Magic?” Claire asked excitedly.

“Seidr,” Loki corrected gently, puffing up with pride at Claire’s muttered ‘amazing’. “Hold onto me.” Claire wrapped her arm around his middle, squealing with delight as the platform began to glide over the water’s surface toward the frolicking hval. They stopped a fair distance away from the group, close enough to see the young splashing happily around their parents. “Would you like to see them closer still?”

“You mean like in the water?”

“Precisely.”

“We won't get eaten?”

“No,” Loki laughed. “The hval do not eat tiny creatures like us. Well, like you.” he glanced down at her with amusement.

“Is that a joke?” Claire asked in surprise. Loki grinned minutely, making her gasp. “That was a joke! I'm impressed.”

“I am capable of humor, little wife.”

“Uh huh,” Claire clapped her hands together, rubbing her palms eagerly. “Alright, let's swim with the hval. Lead on, mischief.” Loki gave her an odd look, but smiled nonetheless. He raised his hands with palms toward her, taking a step closer on the small platform.

“This may hurt,” he cautioned, giving her time to back out. Claire did not protest as he'd expected, shrugging his words away. Loki cupped her face in his hands, his long fingers working into the damp hair at the base of her skull. Their eyes connected as he stepped even closer, close enough her chest rubbed against his as she breathed. He could easily kill her. It would be all too easy to snap her delicate neck.

Claire would have come to the same conclusion and she still let him touch her. She actually trusted him. An unexpected warmth settled into Loki's chest, making him smile. “Take a breath,” He urged her, calling his seidr to his fingertips. Claire yelped as the seidr did its work, and Loki took her weight when she wobbled. “Relax,” He coached. “Breathe out slowly, but not in until we get into the water. It will be foreign to you, but you will be able to breathe just fine.” He pulled away his hands, watching her hands flit to the tender spots on her neck. Her fingers probed at the sensitive flesh, eyes widening with both alarm and awe as she realized what he'd done. She gestured to the new gills on her neck pointedly, an eyebrow raised judgmentally. “Ready?” Claire nodded eagerly. In a flash, he used his seidr on himself and grabbed Claire by the hand. Together they plunged into the cool dark water, sinking down well below the water level. The hval were a little ways ahead of them, and Loki reached out to grab her hand. They started swimming toward the hval, enjoying their melodic songs as the creatures played. They stopped a fair ways away from the hval, watching them play and listening to them sing.

Claire swam closer to Loki, worried about drifting away. Loki pulled her body against his own, wrapping his long arms around her as her back plastered to his front. Loki pointed out a calf to her, swimming alongside its mother. The calf, curious about the newcomers, swam closer until Loki was able to put a hand out and touch it. Claire reached out to pet the calf, running her hand from the crown of its head to its dorsal fin. The calf quickly decided the pets were nice enough to outweigh any possible danger, and soon was swimming circles around them, singing in delight as they pet it. A distant song from its mother made the calf pull away from their hands and go back to the pod, leaving Claire and Loki to watch in awe at the creatures.

Loki gestured over his shoulder toward the shore, and Claire nodded, exhaustion from their adventure starting to seep in. Loki grabbed her hand again and began pulling her through the water back to land, his inky black hair fanning out in the water like tentacles. Claire thought he looked beautiful, even though the gills were new and alarming. Somehow he managed to pull those off too, the jackass.

It was only as they approached the shore that Claire spotted the other schools of fish around them. Schools of little fish in a rainbow of colors darted in and around long fingers of kelp and colorful branches of coral. Fading rays of sunlight dappled the landscape below, the banks of coral giving way to smooth sand as they approached the shoreline.

The gills faded away as Claire popped through the ocean’s surface. Loki surfaced right behind her, his neck also now free of gills.

“That was SO COOL!” Claire shouted as she strode out of the sea. Out in the open water, the hval still frolicked- their joyful noise carrying over the waves they created as they jumped and splashed. Loki joined her on the sand, looking on with pride as she practically glowed with happiness. “I think that’s the coolest thing I’ve ever done,” she swooned, hands cupping her aching cheeks as she approached him. Her hands reached for him, clutching his arms tightly as she pulled him close. “Thank you!”

Taken aback by the sudden hug, it took Loki a moment to reciprocate but when he did, he was reminded of Claire’s words from before they’d wed. The first time they’d hugged, she’d said they fit. And they did. Perfectly.

Allowing himself a moment of weakness, he buried his face in her hair and enjoyed the moment. The waves lapped at their ankles, burying their bare feet in the warm sand. It was soothing, paired with the rise and fall of her chest against his and the feeling of her arms locked around his rib cage.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Claire hummed against his chest, the closeness setting off a rapid beating in his heart.

“That definitely wouldn’t have happened with Thor.” she sighed contentedly, eyes still locked on the hval out at sea.

The words cut like a knife. Why did she insist on hurting him so?

“We should return,” he said woodenly, stepping out of her grasp before she could so much as breathe. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Claire glanced up at the darkening sky. “I need a bath and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“Hmm.” Loki was finally quiet like she’d wanted, but now Claire missed the conversation.

~~~~

The next day dawned bright and hot, the sun seeming to work extra hard to brown their skin as the family of five made the short walk to the dock. Thor and Loki scampered ahead, Thor cackling with childlike glee as he walked up the gangplank. They made quite a pair: Thor eagerly calling for Loki to pull this, steady that, all the while Loki grumbled and rolled his eyes but did it anyway.

The boat was not at all what Claire had expected. The more appropriate word would probably be ‘yacht’, but she supposed when you had insane amounts of wealth...

“Magnificent, is it not?” Frigga asked at her side. Odin did not break his stride to talk to them, purposefully striding aboard the massive vessel. Claire cast wide eyes up, up, up the blinding white siding of the yacht. The main deck where Thor and Loki were hard at work preparing to sail had partial shade from the upper decks, but the space alongside the railings had plush seating for lounging.

This was definitely not a working vessel. This was a pleasure cruiser.

“Yeah, it’s...it’s something,” Claire replied as she and Frigga stepped on board. “Why are there sails? Surely something this big would have a motor.” She followed Frigga into the shade, where they both set their bags on a table and found seats. Under the canopy of the upper deck, there was more seating, with open air windows and a bar with stools. Toward the stern of the boat, one staircase disappeared below deck while another slunk upstairs.

“Oh no, dear, a motor would be harmful to the wildlife! In the city we use them because there are fewer animals that could be harmed, and of course motors are faster than sails should someone attack, but we prefer to live in harmony with the other creatures we share the realm with.”

“Oh okay, I see.” Claire did not see. How long were they planning to be on this boat? From the look of the sails, Claire half expected Odin to declare they were going to the new world in search of gold and spices. Claire glanced down at the day bag she’d packed mournfully, wondering if the bathing suit, sunscreen and flip flops she’d packed would be enough.

“It truly is a glorious day,” Frigga sighed happily, taking in a lungful of salty sea air. “Don’t you agree?” Out in the sun, Thor and Loki worked to bring the anchor aboard, the clanging of metal providing a contrasting song to the harsh cawing of gulls overhead. Waves slapped at the hull below impatiently, as if urging the boat to get a move on already.

Thor had already misplaced his shirt, Claire noted with a roll of her eyes. Her brother-in-law was kinda vain, but Claire supposed if she looked like that she probably would be too. Loki was still dressed in his loose fitting pants and shirt, his long dark hair whipping about in the wicked wind. Facing away from them as he was, Claire had a very nice view of his ass.

“Oh yes,” Claire agreed as Loki pulled a rope with all his might, teeth gritted and muscles straining as he tied it around an anchor point. “Very nice.”

“Sister! Come see!” Thor shouted, waving her out into the sunlight once again. His golden hair gleamed in the hot sun, his cheeks already red with exertion. The veins in his muscled arms bulged as he tugged hard on a length of rope. Claire glanced at her mother-in-law briefly before sliding out of her seat to join the brothers.

“What am I lookin’ at?” she called over the sound of the waves.

“Here, grab the aft!” Thor called over his shoulder, tossing her the free end of the rope he was battling.

“I am not touching that,” Claire shook her head, letting the rope fall limp on the deck. “I don’t know where your aft has been.” Thor guffawed loudly, tying off his portion of rope before he came to her aid.

“Clever,” he praised. “Aft simply means ‘the back’.”

“That I do know,” Claire nodded. “We use the same terms for the helicarrier and other aviation craft.”

“See the largest sail, up there?” Thor pointed high overhead, his beefy hand clasping around her shoulder as he leaned into her space. Claire looked up and sure enough, that was a sail.

“Kinda hard not to,” she replied. “What about it?”

“That is connected to this rope, and it’s the most important of all the sails. It’s connected to this halyard here,” Thor slapped his palm on a horizontal beam of polished wood. “We need all the help we can get with the main sail, and since this is your first time on the boat, I thought you might like to try it.”

“Oh cool,” Claire murmured. “Sure, why not? Who hasn’t dreamed of being a pirate once or twice in their life?”

“You’re no pirate!” Thor’s laughter boomed in her ear, sending bone-rattling vibrations throughout her body. “You are a warrior, through and through!”

“What do you need me to do?” Claire asked as Loki joined them.

“You’ll have the most important task,” Thor proclaimed. “You will be directing us.”

“What? You’re nuts,” Claire protested. “I’ve never done this before; I don’t know-”

“You will do fine,” Thor promised, patting her head like he would a child. Claire glared at him from under his massive palm, shaking his hand off her. “It is easy to do, except for the last few feet.”

“Perhaps this would be best left to us.” Loki offered.

“Nonsense, brother! Let your wife prove herself!” Thor smacked a large hand against Loki’s ribs, air rushing from Loki in a soft ‘oof’.

“Okay, Thor you’ll be up front, I guess. Loki, you take the middle, and I’ll tie it off.”

“A brilliant plan,” Thor praised, striding confidently toward the halyard to grab the rope. “Are you ready, brother?”

“Yes,” Loki huffed impatiently, his usually pale skin pink and flushed. “Let’s get this done.”

“Alright then,” Claire cracked her knuckles, rolling her head and shoulders to get focused. “Giddy up!”

“We’re not horses!” Loki complained, taken aback by the length of rope that Thor cast to him before he raced to pick up the slack. Thor worked like a madman, pulling the rope hand over fist and cackling as the sail began to rise. Claire nabbed the loose end of the rope off the deck and started tying it off in a figure eight on the nearest mooring.

The main sail was halfway up the mast, already beginning to fill as it began to catch the breeze.

“Keep going!” Claire shouted, the rope making the skin on her hands burn as she hurried to keep up with the brothers. The rope lurched to a stop when the sail was only a few feet from the top, and both Thor and Loki had to pull with all their strength to secure it. Claire was grateful she had the rope to focus on, because she wanted nothing more than to ogle her husband as he strained to hold the rope in place. The material of his pants strained over his thighs, the sleeves of his shirt struggled against the swell of his biceps as veins bulged in his forearms and hands.

With a loud roar, Thor pulled the rope with all his might and the sail was finally in place. Claire finished tying off the rope as Loki held it taut in his iron grip.

“Thanks.” Claire brushed off her legs as she stood up straight. Loki nodded, hands falling away from the rope. He melted into the background as Thor came up to congratulate her.

“Well done, sister! A fine job on your first try,” the god of thunder praised. “What did you think?”

“It was fun,” Claire smiled. It had been oddly exhilarating. “I’d like to learn more.”

“I’d be delighted to teach you everything-” There was a sudden crack of wood giving way, and a whistle of speeding rope.

“Look out!” Loki’s shout echoed on the water, and both Claire and Thor looked over to see something hurtling toward them.

“Jesus!” Claire shrank back as a piece of metal smacked directly into Thor’s face, making him stagger back with a groan of pain. “Are you okay?!”

“I am fine,” Thor shook his head, clearly feeling dizzy as his feet shuffled on the slippery deck. “No harm done.”

“I am sorry brother, it slipped from my grasp,” Loki said apologetically as he approached, showing a bloody cut on his palm. Something about it stood out to Claire, a shimmer of green that was decidedly out of place. Loki noticed her staring, Claire raising a brow accusingly as their eyes met. A corner of Loki’s mouth turned up almost imperceptibly, and his fingers curled inward to shield his palm from view. “That damn rope is far too slippery to handle alone. Are you alright?” he asked Thor.

“I am fine! It will take more than that to topple the mighty Thor!” Thor said boastfully, even as his legs wobbled beneath him.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Claire suggested.

“Nonsense!” Thor cried, striding past her onto the deck to help Loki with the rest of the sails. “Go sister, you’ve done your part.”

“Are you sure? You’ve got a bruise…” Thor waved away Claire’s concern, heading to the front of the boat to assess the damage. Men. Rolling her eyes, Claire retreated to the shade to sit with Frigga again.

Behind her, Thor and Loki were back hard at work pulling lines of ropes and tying them in place to raise the other sails. The white sails were beginning to catch the hardy breeze, limp material swelling full and round.

The boat lurched forward with the next strong breeze, Odin steering them away from the dock from his place at the helm.

As the dock grew smaller behind them, Claire looked out to the open sea. At the bow, Loki and Thor were having a heated discussion, and while Claire could not tell what they were saying, the pinched looks on their faces gave her a vague idea.

~~~~

Odin steered them far out into open water by mid morning. Frigga had done her best to keep her grouchy sons plied with snacks, but tensions were still high as the fishing poles were brought out.

Claire had not been expecting the sheer size of the fish they caught. Larger than sea turtles, the fish were colorful and equipped with scales as sharp as knives and stinging barbs. They were kind of cute, in an ugly way, but they were also delicious.

After lunch, Loki was the first to jump in the cool dark water. Thor followed quickly after, purposely jumping on Loki and causing tempers to flare again. Frigga and Claire shared a droll look as Odin barreled into the fray in an odd display of camaraderie. Frigga stepped off the boat’s deck, slipping elegantly into the water with the tiniest splash Claire had ever seen. The brothers were still fighting, trading splashes and petty blows. Frigga and Odin were ignoring them, drifting off to their own area shadowed by the boat.

Instead of jumping straight off the deck, Claire climbed the stairs to the top deck of the boat. There was nothing on this level except a bench for laying in the sun and some bucket style seats, presumably for sight seeing. Peering over the railing, Claire could see the brothers down below.

Without another thought, Claire stepped up and dropped over the railing. Wind whistled in her ears as she hurtled toward the dark water and the brothers. She tucked her legs into her chest just before she hit the water, the brothers’ cries of protest falling on gravity’s deaf ears. Claire touched down right between the two, splashing both of them and forcing them apart.

The stark cold of the water was a shock, sending Claire scrambling to the surface to shout “COOOOLD!”

Loki was still complaining loudly as he tried to clear the water from his eyes when she surfaced.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked heatedly, angrily squinting at her through sea water.

“Lots of things,” Claire shrugged. “You’re being dumb.”

“I’m being dumb?” Loki scoffed. “What about him?!” he gestured to Thor, who was busy blowing his nose into the water.

“You’re both being dumb,” Claire said as Thor gave a particularly loud snort, expelling a gooey snot rocket into the choppy waves. “Case in point,” Thor wiped his nose with his fingers, playing with the leftover sticky mess with his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, I’m out.” The water was delightfully cold, but she had zero interest in swimming with Thor’s boogers.

“Do not lump me in with him!” Loki called after her as Claire swam back to the boat. He followed behind her, leaving Thor to his snotty water. Claire was already partway up the ladder when he rounded the boat, her delectable body glistening in the sun as she climbed to the deck. Instead of lounging in one of the seats on the main deck, she climbed to the top deck.

The bench on the top deck was blazing hot as Claire laid her tired body on it. It was a nice place to rest, even though between the sun and the hot material beneath her Claire swore she could feel steam rising from her body. Claire lay on her belly, resting her head on her crossed arms and closing her eyes against the harsh sun.

Familiar footsteps followed her up to the top deck, falling short as they reached the top. She could practically feel Loki’s gaze on her, but if he didn’t want to speak up, she’d go on pretending he wasn’t there.

Loki paused as Claire’s supine form came into view. He’d barely seen her before she’d hit the water, but now…

Her long legs glistened, beads of water slipping down the meat of her thighs onto the mat. The teal material hugged the curves of her waist, moisture gathered in the dip of her spine. He could see the straps of the top stretch and give with each rise and fall of her back, and more beads of water dotting her shoulders. The curve of muscle in her arms were pronounced as she lay with her head on her forearms, droplets of water dripping onto the mat below. Her wet hair was dark as pitch, thrown over one shoulder and spilling across the bench like spilled ink.

“What are you doing?” he asked. Claire’s blue eyes opened, her head lifting to look over her shoulder.

“Working on my tan. What are you doing?” she settled back into her previous pose, drawing Loki’s eyes along her body.

“You wear this in public?” Loki gawked at her, his eyes tracking every droplet of water cascading down her body. To his eyes the two piece bathing suit was decadently indecent, simultaneously demanding he touch her and shield her from view. The artwork on her hip was somehow even more beautiful when wet, the moisture making the colors more vibrant in the afternoon sun. He’d not touched her since their return from their honeymoon, a detail his body was begging him to rectify despite his best judgment. Her beauty devastated him, burning him with desire so strong he nearly fell to his knees at her feet. Claire rolled to her side, resting her weight on one elbow as she stared up at him. Loki’s eyes followed the movement, fingers itching to touch as she bent one knee, her free arm resting on her hip.

“Um...yeah?” Claire looked down at her bathing suit questioningly. “What's wrong with it?”

“Nothing at all,” Loki purred, stepping closer to her. “It’s quite fetching, actually.”

“M’kay,” Claire hummed as she settled onto her back. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Though if there were others around, I may have to kill them on principle.”

“You’re being weird again,” Claire gave a long sigh and got to her feet, sending Loki’s heart rate through the room when he got an eye full of her scantily clad ass. His feet crossed the floor of their own volition, bringing them face to face. “Can I...help you?” Loki grabbed her chin in his long fingers, tilting her face up to lock their gazes. Her long eyelashes framed her azure eyes as she gazed up at him, clearly surprised by his actions. Leaning down to press his lips to hers, Loki worked the straps of her soaking top down her arms with his fingers. Claire rocked on her feet, pressing closer to him as he freed her breasts from the sodden material. Loki's hands on her biceps steered her backward, the back of her calves hitting the low edge of the bench. Her nipples were already taut from the cold water, the sudden change in temperature making her gasp as his hot mouth closed over the pebbled skin.

“Loki-” her argument died as his lips closed around her other nipple, large hands finding their way to her hips and holding her against him possessively. God, she loved the intensity. Loki released his hold on her to dig through the nearby storage bin, hands moving in rapid movements she could barely follow. He produced a fleece blanket from the bin and held it up between them, before laying it on the bench. He took her hands and helped her to lay down, following her descent with his own.

Loki ran his large hands up her legs, parting her thighs and ghosting his thumb over the wet material covering her folds. Claire jolted, her breath escaping her hard and heavy as Loki loomed over her body. He reached inside his pants and adjusted his straining cock before settling between her legs and gathering her in his arms as he pressed his groin against her center with a groan. His impressive cock pressed against her sex just right, the head rubbing her clit through the material of their clothes and making her eyes glaze over with pleasure.

“Gods, you are magnificent,” Loki groaned as he rutted against her. Claire's brain raised a note of interest at that- with the way he'd ignored her she hadn't thought Loki found her attractive anymore. She'd have to muse on that later, when her husband wasn't dry humping her to ecstasy. “I wish-” Loki stopped short, a quick thrust of his hips making her gasp.

“What?” She urged, pulling him closer by the fabric of his tunic. “Say it.”

“Nothing,” He denied, frowning. “Many things. Never mind.” He pulled away from her as if a trance had broken, leaving them both unsatisfied and his mind and body even more flustered than before. He helped her sit up and practically evaporated, disappearing as quickly as he'd arrived.

“What the fuck was that?” Claire asked the empty space around her.

~~~~

Later that night, the room shared by the prince and princess royal was silent as a tomb. It was too early to be asleep, too late to have outside company. Loki had not so much as looked in her direction since he’d left her on the top deck. All through the journey back to shore, the short walk back to the mansion, even during dinner. It was like he looked everywhere but her general direction; as though if he tried hard enough not to see her she would cease to exist.

Now he laid on the pallet he’d conjured, eyes resolutely fixed on the book he held above his handsome face. The slanted light threw his already sharp cheekbones into even sharper relief.

Claire knew he wasn’t actually reading. The dumbass was only pretending. The turning of the pages was steady, each crinkle of the paper timed to the second. If Claire wasn’t so annoyed, she’d be impressed by his commitment to the bit.

Claire wasn’t in any place to judge, because instead of ignoring Loki right back, she’d instead been counting along with him. As she’d laid there absently gazing up at the ceiling, she’d started anticipating the page turns, queueing the sound with a flick of her finger.

“So are we gonna talk about it?”

“What?” the low rumble of Loki’s voice slid over her skin like velvet, a flash memory of searing heat reminding her of earlier that day.

“’What?’” Claire echoed, brows furrowing as she glared at him from the bed. She shot up, pillow sailing directly into his face and making him drop his book. “WHAT?!”

“Saying it louder-” a knock on the door made them both stop in their tracks, freezing in fear when Frigga’s voice called through the door.

“May I come in?” In a flash, the pallet had disappeared and Loki was practically crashing into her- toned thigh touching hers, long fingers clasped around her knee- as Frigga opened the door. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Of course not, Mother.” Frigga held up the folded blanket in her arms as she stepped inside.

“I started searching for this when we arrived yesterday but just now came across it,” she explained, putting the blanket on the foot of the bed. “It was a gift from my mother-in-law to me, and now it is time I pass it on to you.”

“Oh that’s so nice-”

“You see Odin and I also struggled to conceive at first-” the balloon of Claire’s sanity popped instantly, her blood running cold at the thought of...conceiving. Barf. Claire hurried to plaster a non-horrified look on her face as she realized Frigga was still speaking. “-Blanket has magical powers and I am certain it will help you to conceive too!”

“Great,” Claire said weakly, bile crawling up her esophagus despite her best efforts to tamp it down. “Thank you...so much.”

“You’re very welcome, dear,” Frigga’s eyes bounced from the blanket to the two of them squished together on the bed and back to the blanket. “Good night, my darlings.”

“Good night Mother,” Loki called after her, the plastered on smile dropping as soon as the door latch engaged. He slid off the bed without a second glance, pointedly avoiding the mystical baby making blanket and leaving a distinct lack of heat behind. Claire stared at the ugly thing with trepidation, as if semen might ooze from it at any moment. “Well that was...lovely.”

“I think you mean horrifying.” Claire wondered if there was a sanitizing spray she could dig up. She wanted no part of whatever germs or powers or whatever was on that blanket.

“It is expected-”

“Believe me, I know. No one will let me forget,” Claire snarked. “Doesn’t mean I want Allfather cooties where I sleep,” she cringed, inching the blanket further away with the foot buried under the blankets. “I still think we should talk about it.”

“It’s rather hard to focus on anything with that in the room,” Loki hefted an accusatory finger at the blanket, the woven honeycomb design somehow innocent and menacing at the same time. “It feels as though it’s looking at me.”

“Okay so...burn it, or flush it down the toilet,” Claire suggested. A single slim eyebrow judged her from the pallet. “What? Don’t act like you weren’t thinking the same thing.”

“This is a family heirloom, we cannot-”

“You suck,” Claire groused. “Fine, just shove it under the bed or something. I don’t care, let’s focus on the actual topic of conversation.

“Shan’t,” Loki shook his head, abandoning the bed and blanket to lay back in his pallet. A flash of green seidr dimmed the fire, deepening the already dark shadows.

“Fine,” Claire snarled. “Fine, have it your way. We’ll just ignore each other for the rest of our fucking marriage and act like everything is fine!” she lay flat so hard and fast she bounced, breath leaving her in a furious huff. Honest to god he made her want to spit fire.

“That is not what I-”

“Can’t hear you; I’m ignoring you.”

“Will you please-”

“SHAN’T!” Claire pointedly turned her back to him, curling up in a ball beneath the blankets. Revulsion coiled in her belly as she remembered the ‘special blanket’ Frigga had left them. Claire shot up and whipped the blanket in Loki’s general direction, obviously hitting him judging by the noise of complaint. “You can take the baby blanket. It gives me the willies.”

“How thoughtful.” Loki kicked the blanket as far away from his body as possible, turning on his side to face the wall and away from his wife. Damn, stubborn, beautiful woman.

~~~~

The carriage ride back to the palace was tense, and silent apart from the sounds of Thor murdering bokoblins and Loki turning the page of his book. The bastard was still resolutely avoiding even glancing in her direction which was remarkable, because if Claire had her way, the force of her stare would have bored two new holes in his head by now.

Seriously, what the fuck was his damage?

They’d had a great time swimming with the hvals, then he leaves her high and dry wet and desperate on the boat, and now he’s back to ignoring her? Who does that?!

And not that it was anyone’s business, but the hurried orgasms she’d given herself in her short windows of alone time were not nearly as satisfactory, which only added to her frustration. She wanted to scream and punch his perfect teeth in. And maybe (definitely) ride his thigh.

A splash of orange outside the carriage window caught her eye, and she sat up at attention. Freckled among the tall grass alongside the road, vibrant orange tiger lilies swayed in the pleasant breeze.

Mom’s favorite. Claire shot to her feet, her heart in her throat.

“STOP!” she swayed with the carriage, darting out into the tall grass as soon as the carriage stopped. Loki looked up, perturbed by the sudden stop.

“Why are you looking at me?” Thor didn’t glance up from his game. “She’s your wife.” Loki huffed, slamming his book closed as he got to his feet.

Claire wasn’t anywhere to be seen, even with his superior height. She wouldn’t run, would she? He sighed with relief when the breeze made the tall grass sway, and her brown hair came into view. He picked his way toward her, watching as she carefully selected blooms to pluck. She’d already picked several, creating a small bouquet in her hand.

“We have flowers at the palace,” he said as he reached her little enclave in the grass. “Ones that are...less common.”

“I don’t care about that,” Claire replied, adjusting the frail petals lovingly so none of them overlapped. She swallowed against the lump in her throat, adding another bloom to her small bouquet. “They’re my moms favorite.” Finding them by chance, at a time when she felt so alone...it felt like a sign. That maybe things would be okay, with time.

“I see.”

“Ugh, my allergies are terrible today,” Claire dabbed the corner of her eyes as she sniffed. “I’m ready to go.”

“You’re allergic to the flowers, yet you picked them?”

“Not to the flowers, tree pollen.”

“What trees?” Loki glanced around the open plain on all sides. The nearest trees were small, dark, blurry shapes in the very far distance.

“I mean grass.” Claire said quickly.

“Ah,” Loki nodded, eyes surveying the literal sea of grass they stood in. “Well, what an unfortunate setting you’ve put yourself in.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Can we go?”

“Merely waiting on you!” Loki made an exaggerated gesture to usher her forward. Claire rolled her eyes and traipsed forward, cradling the bouquet against her chest. The carriage door still hung open, and Claire could just spy Thor’s foot hanging out, his beefy arms holding her switch above his head as he slouched in the seat.

“Hey Thor, can you budge up for a minute please?”

“Of course.” Thor moved aside so she could climb into the carriage, frowning when Loki slammed the door shut loudly behind them. He rapped on the carriage ceiling twice, sinking back into his seat as the carriage began to move.

“Did you know Midgardians can be allergic to grass? What an absurd genetic trait.” Loki announced.

“Can we move on from the grass,” Claire groaned. “And FYI, not all allergies are genetic. Some people develop allergies later in life.”

“And this is useful?” Loki asked skeptically.

“Sometimes. If you must know, I happen to have developed one just recently.”

“To what? Is it serious?” Thor asked gravely.

“I don’t really know how to explain it-”

“Well describe it!” Thor pressed. “You ought to let your staff know, when we return.”

“Well...” Claire gave a heavy sigh, as if deeply troubled by the information she was about to share. “It’s big. Like 6-2. And pale. Moody, wears a lot of leather-”

“That sounds like you, brother!” Thor cackled.

“Yep, that’s the joke.” Claire laughed.

“Well it just so happens I’ve also developed an allergy,” Loki hissed. “To you-”

“The events on the boat say otherwise.” Claire volleyed, enjoying the flush of anger that colored Loki’s cheeks. Checkmate.

“What happened on the boat?” Thor asked, his “quiet” tone still too loud.

“Never you mind-”

“Don’t worry about it, Thor. It’s not for your virgin ears.” Claire replied as she settled back into the plush seat, watching the grass go by. Thor scoffed, launching into a lengthy diatribe about he, god of thunder and son of Odin, was no meek virgin.

Loki glared at her from across the carriage, a clear do-you-see-what-you’ve-done expression on his face. Claire smirked, hoping the swaying of the carriage would lull her to sleep quickly.

Maybe things would work out in time, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t put up a fight.

~~~~

As soon as they arrived back at the palace, Loki split from their group almost immediately, to no one’s surprise. Claire’s ladies were waiting for her as she stepped out of the carriage, but Ragna kept her head down as she and the other ladies grabbed Claire’s things from the carriage and began to escort her back to her chambers.

“Soooo what did everyone do while I was gone?” Claire asked as they walked. “Helga, Koza, did you do anything fun?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Helga replied. “We had other duties to attend to.”

“I see. Kari, how about you? Any exciting gossip I should know?” Kari was the biggest gossip of the bunch, and knew everything about everyone.

“Oh yes, Your Majesty, you will never believe what transpired between Fandral and-”

“Enough gossip, Kari,” Ragna chided harshly. “Her Majesty is surely tired from her travel, we shall unpack her things and leave her to rest.”

“Yes of course,” Kari said meekly, ducking her head as she curtsied. Gunnar bowed at Claire as she reached the door, smiling as he opened the door. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”

“There’s nothing to forgive; I asked,” Claire replied. “Tell me later.” she whispered, winking at Kari when the younger woman grinned.

The three ladies made quick work of unpacking under Ragna’s direction, each of them summarily dismissed until it was just Claire and Ragna left alone.

“So…” Ragna began. “What really happened on the trip?” she smiled faintly, her lip still split and painful.

“Oh my god, Ragna, he’s such a twat-” Ragna’s harsh laugh caught them both by surprise, her head thrown back as she forgot herself for the briefest moment. “Jesus, Ragna, what happened?” Claire gasped as Ragna’s swollen face finally came into view. Her eyes scanned Ragna’s face cataloging the injuries: split bottom lip, an angry pink bruise around an eye, scrapes along her cheekbone. A dark smattering of bruises littered the column of her throat, where someone had viciously choked her.

“My master-” Ragna said hoarsely, clearing her throat as she diverted her gaze. “Forgive me, I am still unable to speak normally.”

“No apology needed,” Claire said, dumping her bag on the floor. “Please sit,” Claire stepped into her bedroom, fetching the mini first aid kit from her armoire before going back to Ragna. “I’m no healer, but I’m handy at first aid. Let me look?” she asked. Ragna nodded meekly, still hesitant to meet Claire’s gaze.

“Thank you.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” Claire asked as she dabbed antiseptic on Ragna’s scrapes.

“I cannot,” Ragna’s voice warbled as tears gathered in her eyes. “You will despise me.”

“That’s not true,” Claire said gently. “There’s nothing you could have done to deserve this.”

“My master...disagrees,” Ragna said cautiously, wincing as Claire prodded at a tender spot at her temple. “He was displeased that I remained in the palace while you traveled.”

“So he choked you?” Claire asked incredulously. “It wasn’t your call. Hell, it wasn’t even mine.”

“I apologize-”

“Ragna, no,” Claire covered Ragna’s shaking hands with her own. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I should have insisted you came along; I knew something was going on-”

“Your Majesty, please-”

“This has gone too far,” Claire shook her head. “Let’s get you to the healers, and then you can tell me what’s been going on.”

“It is nothing.”

“This is not nothing, Ragna. You do not deserve to be abused and I will not stand for it,” Claire got to her feet, offering Ragna her hands to help her up. “Come on.” Ragna stared at her hands numbly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. As she walked Ragna to the healers, Claire decided whatever bullshit Loki was on would have to wait. Something shady was happening, and she was going to find out what.

[subastian-swallows]

Dark Whispers, Light Vows

PROLOGUE: ESCAPING IS ONLY THE BEGINNING ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

Chapter one ★

Pairing: Dark!Sebastian x AurorMC x AurorOminis - Love Triangle Fic

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: Angst baby — will eventually grow darker, angsty, smutty, painful, softer...I suppose just a little bit of everything

Summary: “In a race against time, (Auror’s) Alice and Ominis must work together to recapture their former friend Sebastian, an escapee from Azkaban. But when Sebastian begins to use a mysterious new form of magic to haunt Alice’s dreams, she’s torn between bringing him to justice or helping him escape, risking everything in the process. Love, friendship, and the battle between light and dark intertwine as Alice must decide which path she will take.”

A/N: This fic, holds a special place in my heart. I have prepared the ending and it’s very bittersweet, will be sad (that is my goal), so only go into this if you don’t mind a sad/happy ending. There will only be one choice at the end for Alice and I won’t let it be known who she picks until the final chapters...so we will see her with both Ominis and Sebastian. I look forward to showing you this little bit of me and I hope you enjoy it!ヽ༼ ಥ_ಥ༽ﾉ

“We cannot be sure of having something to live for unless we are willing to die for it.” ― Che Guevara

The scent of the sea made Sebastian sick now. The lingering saltiness on the air attaching to his skin like a leech, slowly sucking away any leftover warmth from it. And yet, a part of him recalled just how much Alice loved the sea. 

He couldn’t recall much more than little snippets of her now, desperately clutching onto their memories together and yet, with each attempt they grew harder to remember. Each day felt dark and Sebastian no longer knew how long it had been, but he had grown several feet taller and his body lost all of it’s baby fat, so he knew it had been awhile. But it seemed pretty pointless to care about time in a place like this. Time was no longer a friend. It was just something else to forget about and with so little space left in his head, Sebastian chose to keep it only for her. 

Sebastian often wondered if she thought about him and despite realising it was cruel of him to think such a thing, he hoped she did. At the beginning, he regretted hurting her. Feeling as if he had destroyed someone so pure and kind, but eventually, even his love for her, couldn’t hide the anger he felt. Perhaps, it was his mind playing tricks on him, contorting his memories of Alice, just enough to make him wonder if she had ever loved him. And so, his anger festered, lingering in his heart and ripping it to shreds as his eyes unfocused on the sun and moon slowly morphing together. 

The visions of her grew darker, as if he willed them to make him hate her. And for a time it seemed to work, the softness of her skin, the melody in her laughter, now quickly fading into the darkness as he locked them away. Sebastian had to hate her, for if he didn’t, he would surely suffocate. But, it seemed that Alice always returned to him when he let his guard down and when she did, Sebastian wished he had more tears to cry—for now, his eyes just stung painfully with the memories of her.  

The weight of everything swallowed him quickly and soon it felt like he was drowning. Sebastian clung desperately to what little he had left, before he finally let the darkness consume him completely and he laughed softly to himself as he dropped to the floor. But it seemed that Merlin himself wasn't quite finished with Sebastian, no instead rather cruelly, it appeared that he wished to keep a hold on him and there was no fight left in Sebastian to stop it. The touch came first, like a small electric shock, that lingered on the surface of his skin and then the dreams came. 

But they weren’t Sebastian’s dreams. No, it was as if he was only a spectator and eventually he realised that he could communicate with the dreamer. Overtime, Sebastian grew more curious, more daring and when he attempted to touch, to mark the dreamer, as if to test out his theories—Sebastian only grew excited, seeing the marks he had left, now vibrant and real. He fiddled with this new found power for a while, practising on prisoners, guards, figuring out what he could do and get away with. And yet, in the darkest moments of the evening, when the only light that slipped into his cell was the moon, Sebastian wondered just how far he could push himself.

He wanted to visit her dreams. To touch her, hold her and yet, he couldn’t reach her. Not yet. Perhaps he just needed more practice, more information and so he returned his focus to the guards and to figuring out how to use it to his advantage. Sebastian’s touch only grew more bold as he learnt how to manipulate the minds he invaded, starting off small, extra rations, more water. But, even that got boring quickly. So Sebastian spent hours, days, slowly penetrating the mind of a guard he hadn’t seen around long—a pretty thing, easy and soon she was in the palm of his hand. 

Sebastian had planned it perfectly, falsely placing visions of himself into the woman’s mind and in the end he had created a willing pawn for his escape. It was exhilarating and for the first time in years, Sebastian felt his confidence return, felt the darkness welcome him with open arms and he accepted it willingly. When the day came, he cared little for the soft kisses the woman provided him as she gave him a wand and provided him with clothing. She was risking everything and had no idea, her vision so clouded by the false reality he had shown her—that Sebastian knew she’d even take the responsibility for it all, if he asked. And he would. 

The escape hadn’t been easy and he had to kill again. But this time, it felt justified, at least to him, at least in that moment. For Sebastian only cared for one thing and that was getting back to her, back to Alice. He knew this meant that they would come after him and yet, he didn’t care as long as he could see her again. It had been awhile, Sebastian wondered if she would have moved on by now and he grew disgusted by the thought. The woman that helped him escape followed with eagerness, until he didn’t need her anymore and he simply casted her aside, removing the fog of his visions—purely to make her suffer with her choices and she did. 

It should have ended there. With Sebastian putting way too much faith in being able to research his new ability alone, desperately wishing someone had scribed something down about it. But, that would have been too easy. And so, Sebastian lingered in the shadows and kept his focus on figuring out exactly what he was capable of, only hoping it would eventually lead him to her. Word spread quickly of his escape, that even Sebastian was amused by the chorus of whispers and rumours that now spread about him. Eventually he got bored of it though, caring little for those that meant nothing to him but then he thought of Alice and he wondered if she had been told. 

Sebastian now had one last task, that he would see through. He would have her again. Alice was the piece of him that was missing and Sebastian was ready to watch the world burn, just to be with her. But, being a fugitive made things difficult and it appeared, she had been busy, Sebastian catching sight of her moving picture alongside Ominis—the bile rising quickly in his throat at their smiles. They had become Aurors, typical, simply desperate to feel helpful, even after everything. And yet, he couldn’t dismiss it completely, it did fit them. 

Tossing the paper to the ground and letting it soak up the soft mud, which had grown thick due to the rain, Sebastian pulled at his cloak’s hood and covered his face. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was her, was them. Sebastian was confident Alice hadn’t forgotten him, forgotten his touch and the way his lips felt against hers. So, he slipped back into the shadows and promised one thing: she would be his once more, no matter the cost. He was already a fugitive, a murderer and so there was nothing to lose, nothing he wouldn’t do to have her back in his arms. And the only way he would stop, or give up, was if they killed him. 

However, Sebastian didn’t realise it yet, but his determination and possessiveness meant he would eventually find himself agreeing to an unbreakable vow with the devil. 

But he was willing to do anything for love…right?

[lilbreck]

ST:TOS 103 - Where No Man Has Gone Before

Yes, we did skip an episode. No, we will not be reviewing Charlie X. While we found both Charlie and Mitchell creepy, Charlie’s age and his ability to control people made both of us too uncomfortable to enjoy even watching the episode.

We open the episode with Spock and Kirk wearing ugly sweaters and Spock without his eyeshadow. Though, Nimoy’s makeup almost matches his sweater. This scene also brings us another bit of Early Episode Weirdness in that Spock claims that one of his ancestors married a human female. He neglects to mention that said ancestor was his father and the woman was his mother. I’m thinking that they didn’t have Spock’s full backstory fleshed out when they started filming. At least his eyebrows are closer to being in check. Yes, I’m endlessly amused by this.

I can only assume that Spock and Kirk are currently still on duty in uniform, because we do see people out of uniform in the back. I can’t remember, do we ever see the main crew out of uniform on the ship? (Daughter’s note: Why don’t they have badges if they’re in uniform? Did they fall off without them noticing?)

I know it’s nitpicky, but they don’t have any sort of quarantine procedure for things they beam onboard? I’m pretty sure they address this in Strange New Worlds, IIRC, and possibly in some of the other Star Trek series, but it really does seem like a major oversight. No decontamination or anything. It’s really surprising there weren’t more outbreaks of strange viruses or radiation sickness on starships.

As much as I love the touch screens of the later shows, there is something I just adore about all the toggles, switches, and physical buttons of the old Trek. One thing I never loved? When a superior would come over and hover as if he actually knew what you were doing and was making sure you were doing it right. I refuse to believe Kirk could actually operate the transporter controls unless they had been pre-prepared for him and he only needed to touch one button.

I know it’s kind of hard to tell because he’s wearing the wrong color shirt, but there’s our first Scotty sighting! Now just to figure out the first time he and Uhura are in a scene together. And you thought your pairs were rare. Also, the disaster recorder (which I keep mistakenly calling a probe) looks like some sort of filter drum from an industrial AC unit.

When they talked about its tapes being intact, my daughter got a big laugh. I told her that “In the future, we’ll like things retro.” Retro apparently also means downgrading back to the previous big screen TV/view screen. Side note: there is no need to have someone hovering over the captain’s shoulder like that. At one point he even directs her to stand in a different place. What was even the point of this character?

At this point I become very confused. Where exactly are they heading? They can’t be following a signal, because the signal is coming from the recorder. Just, they randomly start heading somewhere and run into what is probably the same strange field.

Now, we have two other new characters, and you can tell the woman (Elizabeth Dehner) will be sexually repressed because she’s wearing pants. This is confirmed when Mitchell inappropriately tries to flirt with her, and she basically rejects him. He then calls her a walking freezer unit and my daughter and I decide he needs to die painfully. Side note: there is no real point to her character. She doesn’t even get any real part to play until very near the end, and it was not all that necessary.

I know it was the 60s, and it’s possible that those kind of things were taken more seriously, but the way they talk about ESP and things like that as if they’re Very Scientific™ just makes me giggle.

Another issue I have with this episode is that they took the ship out of the galaxy instead of sending some sort of probe to gather information. Apparently, Starfleet and/or The Enterprise are run by Kerbals.

Given that both actors who had to wear the contacts kept their heads tilted back and seemed to be looking down toward what they were trying to see, I wonder if that’s the only way they could actually see out of them. I can’t imagine they were terribly comfortable.

Later on we get needless and uncomfortable interactions between Mitchell and Dehner, Mitchell being creepy and ominous, and Spock jumping right to “Kill him, Jim.” Of course, then we get undeniable proof that Mitchell and Kirk could never have really been friends:

He couldn’t even get Kirk’s middle initial right. Or, you know, they hadn’t actually worked on Kirk’s full bio at this point.

In the fight scene, the first where we get a ripped Kirk shirt, we never actually see what rips the shirt. We have Shatner’s body double do a flying tackle and then, when we cut to Shatner getting up (please forgive the blurriness):

It ends with Mitchell being buried in a grave (that I don’t think could have held him) and Dehner dying from… Emperor Palpatine style lightning bolt fingers. Kirk records that they both died in the line of duty. I choose to believe both bodies were left there, and they recovered. They learned to get along and remade the planet to be very hospitable… or they moved to a one far away. They’re gods, they can do that shit.

End of episode tallies (details by daughter)

Unprofessional Behavior: 01 (Mitchell, who was still himself at the time, harasses Dehner. After the zapping, however, I consider him under the influence and as such, none of his interactions with Kirk afterward count.) Total: 05

Starfleet Are Cheapskates: 01 (Kirk’s shirt got ripped and we don’t know why. RIP.) Total: 02

Reasons Why Enterprise Needs a Counselor: 01 (Kirk had to kill his friend.) Total: 02

Early Episode Weirdness: 04 (Spock? Why are you wearing yellow? And downplaying your human heritage? And you too, Scotty. Minus the human heritage. Spock also suggests killing Mitchell sooner than he probably would have later on.) Total: 05

In The Future, We Like It Retro: 01 (Tapes. They use tapes.) Total: 02

[elementclangen]

Together Again Part Two: Again and Again

Here's part two! And umm. . .apparently I skipped today when I was queuing up the posts. I think I forgot that March has 31 days and not 30. Sorry about that. Since I have over 200 posts queued and don't want to go and change them, you'll get two parts of Together Again today instead of just one!

Trigger warnings: Death

Moons 54 and 55

Antlerpaw dropped the mouse.

No, no, no no no no NO!

Not again.  It couldn’t be happening again.

But it was.

There, in the middle of the clearing, was a body.

Antlerpaw sent a gust of wind towards it and found no movement.  No breath.

It was still.

She felt cold, gray fur against her paws, felt the wind whipping around the nursery.  Felt the absence of life.

But wait.

The fur of that cat was brown.  Not gray.  It wasn’t Brightfalcon or Rosemarypaw.  It wasn’t Stormrush.

It was Egretshell.

Anterpaw forced herself to bend down and pick up the mouse.  She almost gagged on the feeling of its death.  She picked up one paw, and then the other, and marched that mouse to the fresh-kill pile.  Pointedly pretending like the body-like Egretshell’s body-wasn’t there.

Rosemarypaw came out of the Healers’ den, holding a sprig of her namesake in her mouth.  Brightfalcon must have had her preparing the body.  Antlerpaw shuddered at the thought of touching it.

Her sister looked over at her, concern in her eyes, but Antlerpaw shook her head.  She was fine.

Yuccawillow asked her the same thing the next day.

Antlerpaw just looked away from her and didn’t say a word for the rest of the patrol.

~~~

Antlerpaw shivered against the chill.

She hated Leaf-fall.

Everything was dying.  The forest was quiet.  She couldn’t feel the vibrations the birds’ wings made in the air, couldn’t hear the too-fast breath of the mice.

It was all.  Too. Quiet.

“Mouse dung!”

Well, except for Rosemarypaw.  She was as loud as ever.

Antlerpaw trotted over to the healer’s den to see what was wrong.  She found Rosemarypaw hunched over a mess of green and brown leaves.

“Hey,” she meowed.

Rosemarypaw jumped.  “Antlerpaw!  I swear it’s like cursing summons you.”

Antlerpaw shrugged.  It kind of did.  She was always listening for Rosemarypaw on the breeze.  But there was no point in telling her sister that; it would only make her feel bad about the low strength of her earth-blessing.

Instead, she nodded towards the herb pile.  “What happened?”

Rosemarypaw sighed and continued fidgeting with the herbs.  “Mom told me to organize the stores and take stock of what we have in preparation for leaf-bare.  She said everything should be fine, that she just wanted me to check.  But it’s not!  Look at this!”

Antlerpaw did.  She didn’t understand what she was looking at, but she still looked at it.

Rosemarypaw stepped on one of the still-green leaves, accidentally tearing it under her claws.  “Fox dung!”  Her mew rose in pitch.  “We needed that.”

“What is it?”

“That was lungwort.  The dead stuff is all of our catmint.”

“Oh.”  Antlerpaw blinked.  “That’s not good.”

“Nope.  And it’s all mixed up with the lungwort so now, instead of trying to find more, I have to waste time sorting out the dirt from the useful stuff and Mom and I don’t have enough power to grow more of it and cats are going to get sick and then they’re going to-”

Die.

It had been a whole cycle of seasons since she and Rosemarypaw had born.  A whole cycle since Stormrush’s body had gone as cold as the surrounding air.

“I won’t let it happen again,” Rosemarypaw said, staring at the mess of herbs in front of her.  “I can’t.”

Antlerpaw stepped forward and pressed against her sister.  With a gust of wind, she separated the dead catmint and the still living lungwort.

“There,” she said.  “That’s one problem solved.”

“Thank you.” Rosemarypaw sighed and all but collapsed into Antlerpaw.  “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Me neither.

Antlerpaw stayed pressed up against her sister, and felt her breathe.  

Again and again.

[thatsneakymedic]

October Writing Challenge Day 11 Blood

Pouring the extra blood in a new bag, he looks behind the anemic person who was in a dire need of it, the blood bag despite Kabuto accidentally tearing the corner of the plastic an hour ago. It was still new since blood bags that have been unlocked are still fresh after 24 hours so Kabuto got to work quickly to get it ready for transfusion.

"Sorry about the little spill, but it's nothing to worry about. Your treatment will go as planned. And if you're uncomfortable with this, I can go use another bag. It'll still be the same." Kabuto said with a calm voice as the woman on the seat waits for him to get the blood ready.

"It's fine. Blood is blood, and even if it is bad. It's not like I have much longer to live anyways. I just don't want to be in so much pain when my time comes." The woman sighed as she stares at the ceiling with a bored tone. Having severe chronic anemia really sucked when even with all of the fluids and eating the foods that she hated. She constantly needs a blood transfusion almost every month before and after her menstrual cycle. She's embarrassed that it almost feels like as if she's some glass of water or blood that would always "leaks out" thanks to her gender and constantly needs blood to manage the day. She hated how tired she is, she hated how a lot of her peers avoid touching her since she's always "cold" and frail all of the time, and most of all. She hated the annoyance and the pity that her family members would give her when she would at least try to maintain whatever's left of her relationship with them. Even though it almost feels like they're looking forward to her dying so that they can be out of their way.

Thank goodness that the one person who actually valued her worth was Lord Orochimaru himself. Who always offered his reassuring touch, how he didn't alienate her for her condition, and he valued her skills as a shinobi despite her constant need for blood. Specifically AB blood both positive and negative since her body itself seems to somehow reject all other blood types. As and Bs blood only give her half of the iron she needs temporarily while O type blood makes her even more "sick" despite that it's a universal blood that can be given to anyone in the world. An unusual case that Kabuto is also currently looking into.

Kabuto turns to her as he decides that out of respect, he'll put away that certain kind of blood pack that spilled out and he takes out a fresh one just for her, "Don't be ridiculous. You're not going to die, you're just taking your medication, no shame in that. And if you're worried about the blood supply, don't. There's plenty of AB blood for you to use."

"That's not the point. I'm just saying that I'm just tired of being sick and feeling alone all of the time. My other family members are all healthy and fine and they should've also have the same illness as I do, but it seems that I'm the unlucky one out of them. And they love to remind me about how much of a failure to their eyes and yet they have no idea how much me and grandmother have sacrificed for their sake." She said while her hands clench into fists.

"They call you a failure, but they don't have your family's genetic kekki genkai as powerful as yours and your late grandmother. Lord Orochimaru did say that you didn't need to bring them along to take care of them when we recruited you, but you.-" Kabuto's voice was cut off when she gave him a rather annoyed sneer which stopped him from saying what she already knows.

"I know what I said, and I can't go back on my grandmother's promise. They're all ungrateful and spoiled brats, all of them. Only sticking to that false sense of pride of a forgotten clan when we're suffering from fertility issues, our land stolen, financial issues, and genetic blood disorders... like mine. And yet they're all relying on me "the diseased one" to stay afloat."

Kabuto listened to her frustrated rant as he prepares the IV staff next to her and he gets the IV needle ready to be put inside of her arm. "If that is what you're going to stick to, I can't say anymore. I have already told you before that family isn't about being related to someone. Sometimes friends can be trusted and appreciate you more than blood relatives ever could. Just know that Lord Orochimaru does not see any less of you, he sought you out himself after all and you can trust that I'm still working on finding a possible treatment for your blood disorder. I just need more time to find it."

He now injects the needle into her arm and she doesn't flinch or wince at the sudden pain and he allows the blood to flow through the pipe and into her veins, "I'm just saying that, even though we can't replace your family and the bonds that you had with them before your illness changed their views of you, but just know that we won't ever be like them". Sick or not, you're still valuable and precious to Lord Orochimaru. So don't even think about dying, since even selfishly wishing for death only serves as a betrayal of Lord Orochimaru's hopes and his caring feelings for you."

She could only breathe slowly in response to that as the blood was now inside of her veins, and strangely enough, the pale color on her cheeks fades as she starts to look slightly more healthier the more blood goes inside of her. Her thin lips also become plush as they always had been. For her to already recover this fast despite that she would need at least another bag of blood after this one, further shows how unusual her condition is compared to other anemic individuals.

"... You're right. I'm sorry for not thinking of it that way. It was indeed foolish of me to take all of these procedures for granted when Lord Orochimaru has generously has offered his hand to me and to my family and is putting the effort to keep me alive. I guess my family's harsh words and treatment had made me forget that for a moment." She clenches and unclenches her hand as she can feel her body now getting warmer and warmer by the second.

She's slowly feeling alive and her cranky attitude from earlier was also diminishing to that of a submissive docile woman who's family's abuse has taken it's toll on her personality but yet only bound to duty and familial love and devotion towards them.

"If you ask me, you should... "limit" your contact with them in the meantime while also sending them the money for food and other important stuff that they need to keep themselves alive while also forcing them to seek out jobs if they want more money for frivolous expensive crap." That is if that's the kind of relationship you have that is already happening. They don't see you as human, but more like an ATM and someone who brings them free food from the government. You deserve to surround yourself with people who would appreciate and love you." Kabuto replied as he watches the monitor of her health to make sure that everything is going well.

"It's easier said that done when you know that I just... can't do that. But... I'm just so tired of their abuse at this point. Umm... Lord Kabuto. May I ask for a favor from you?" She thinks for a moment while she turns to Kabuto now, "Is it alright if I can spend the night here? I like to get some proper sleep before I return to them."

Kabuto looks at her with his glasses reflecting her pleading yet tired expression and he kindly smiles at her, "Of course you can. You can stay as long as you want here and eat the recommended foods that will be provided to you here, the only thing that me and Lord Orochimaru will not allow is for your family to demand Lord Orochimaru's audience or to stay here with you either. We won't tolerate any of their disrespect or unnecessary fighting, if you get what I mean."

She could only nod despite that she's holding in some tears of joy as more of her condition improves as the blood bag is now half empty.

"Thank you Lord Kabuto."

@lunyraartistry

[thescruffygirldiarys]

I get so fucking fustrated when my mum fossicks and throws things away in my room, because ive asked her probably 10000 times (at least twice or more a day) to please not do that, since i hate things being thrown away since it triggers my OCD and i have to be careful about how i do it, and i dont like things being moved without a reason, as i rely on my vision from my bed to know where things are when im bedbound.

Whenever i ask for help and cant get off my bed so i need her to sit in my room, she does the same thing, then gets so angry because im "ripping her a new one", but im literally asking, for the millionth time, to please not do this thing ive asked her to stop doing EVERY SINGLE DAY and that she wont stop doing even when i explain and explain and explain why i hate it, why she should understand why i hate it, since i got the ocd FROM HER, but she doesnt fucking care and just gets angry at me and leaves me alone in my room when im in so much pain or high symptoms i cant fucking leave but really need her help. Its fully abuse and it makes me so suicidal and afriad, but she refuses to not be a fucking idiot and listen, she just gets offended and becomes worse than a brick wall.

Ive had to scream and cry and shout her down for HOURS just to get her to fucking LISTEN, when she promices she'll do better, and then she goes back to it but even worse, even more hateful. She literally only cares if i self harm, and then she just gets angry. She makes me so upset i have tried to kill myself after she does this and there is nothing i can do to make it stop. When i kill myself i hope someone finds this, and knows it was her, and how she abused my dad untill he literally got backed into a corner and left, and then she abused me. She acts like shes such a good parent because im disabled and autistic and she "takes care of me", but she literally just stops me from starving. When i was vomiting all day every day with gastropariesis she would shout and scream at me when i had panic attacks and begged and cried for help.

This is so someone knows why i self-harm, why im so suicidal and why there is nothing i can do to escape this. She wouldnt spend more than 10 minutes with me in a day if i didnt ask her to. She sends my "sister" to "check on me" even when she completely ignores me and walks away no matter how sick i am because she just keeps asking if im "Okay" untill i agree (very sarcastically because what the fuck) and then closes my door and walks away so i cant make myself heard if i vomit or need help.

She thinks shes such a good mum but shes neglectful, doesn't care about my consent and acts like i hurt her when she gets too close to me or touches me when i tell her not to, or just does exactly what ive told her not to do.

It is the 12th of February. In 4 days i loose the only person who actually spends any real time with me to go away to school, and i will go back to being ignored, cut off and abused with no outlet or comfort. I want to die but i dont want him to feel like his leaving was my last straw. I told my mum i was suicidal and shes actively making it worse. I want to die and if i could i would.

When i die please see this and know i tried to stay for so long and so hard, and she broke me down at every chance to help me. She let me get so sick because she wasnt prepared to stop telling the drs i have anxiety or ptsd or autism, even when i couldn't eat or drink and they were activly dening me care because of what she was telling them, even as i begged her not to. I hate my life, and have nothing left because of her negelct and abuse. She technically keeps me alive, but i might as well have died when my gastropariesis first got bad.

Please see and know i talked to her about this, and she'll probably apologize but nothing will change. Her negelct and abuse will never change, not even after my death. She'll still blame me after im gone, and will never accept it was her fault, the same way as it was her fault my dad went fucking nuts because she cant just listen and change.

I just?? Please take my ashes to some fun places, because all i ever got to see was this house, and this negelct

[veephoenix]

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: slight angst, but basically best friends' fluff, Japanese folklore. | Word count: 1.4k | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

Months were passing by, some quicker than others, and my condition worsened at times, particularly when I found myself without any updates from Lia for more than a couple of days. Despite my attempts to convince myself otherwise —ignoring Grandma’s speculations and theories— there was an undeniable correlation. Whenever Lia was around, I couldn’t deny that I felt much better. The persistent cough subsided, the fever abated, and the general malaise faded, if only temporarily.

A week before Thanksgiving, I awoke to a text from Lia, and we exchanged messages for about ten minutes before she went offline.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang and when I opened the door, there she was, all fresh and lovely while I was still in my pjs and trying to adjust my eyes to the bright light of the day.

Jesse and Jolly were absent until December first, so I was alone in the house with my music and my coughed-up flowers. Mitch was also on tour with the band he worked for, which possibly explained Lia’s unexpected visit, a radiant smile on her face as she conveyed that she was there to make sure I didn’t die.

“Very funny,” I mumbled as I let her in.

She pecked my cheek and headed towards the kitchen, her jasmine scented perfume leaving a trail from the door to wherever she went. She asked if I had already had my breakfast. I hadn’t.

“Perfect,” she replied, cheerful. “I brought some things from that bakery that Jolly loves so much. You can send him a picture and make him a little jealous.”

“That looks too much for breakfast,” I said, frowning at the three bags full of foil containers and little brown packagings she was depositing on the kitchen island.

“I also brought lunch,” she said while taking off her coat. “I know it’s early, but it’s been a while since we treated ourselves and I know you probably haven’t been cooking much if you were sick, so…”

She looked at me with those beautiful brown eyes. So, what could I say?

Her gaze swept over the clean surfaces of the kitchen. Everything was cleaner than usual. Jolly wasn’t one to spend much time cleaning, even after years of sharing a living space and countless arguments about keeping the dirty dishes in the dishwasher instead of leaving them in the sink.

“But we should prepare something healthy for dinner, if you’re feeling ok, of course.”

“I’m okay,” I replied, peering into the containers she’d brought. Besides from a crazy number of pastries and sandwiches, Chinese. She definitely knew how to spoil me.

When I said that, my tone unintentionally carried a nuance I hadn’t meant to express. I was fine, really, happy to have her home, especially with Mitch miles away and unable to keep her away from me. Lia, however, must have sensed something else and had other thoughts racing through her pretty head.

After devouring breakfast and spending a while together in the studio, working on the production of a couple new songs, we had lunch, and straight after cleaning up and sorting out the recycling, we settled on the sofa, our knees lightly brushing. I pulled a coin from my pocket, flipping it to decide between horror movies or fantasy. Lia chuckles as my choice emerged victorious. Retrieving the remote from the coffee table, I scrolled through the new fantasy releases on AppleTV.

Focused on removing the subtitles from The Green Knight, I felt Lia’s intense gaze fixed on me. She had been staring for at least two long minutes.

“What?” I inquired. “Do I have something on my face?” I lightly touched the side of my face.

“No,” she replied, suppressing a giggle. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I missed your birthday this year.”

Ah, so this was the internal struggle she’d been battling herself for since arriving. It was obvious because of the way she’d been behaving; something was gnawing at her, likely guilt. Lia had never missed any of my birthdays since we first became friends, except the year I turned eleven. She’d been bedridden with a severe cold. Even then, she had fought to come, but Cristina forbade her to leave the house. Probably one of the only good things she ever did for her daughter.

Though I wasn’t sure if her intentions had been for her daughter to get better or to just keep her from enjoying other kids’ company.

This year marked the second time Lia had missed my birthday. I pretended not to care, but I had gone to bed drunker than usual, and I couldn’t lie to myself; deep down, I couldn’t deny that it stung not having her there, making me laugh and getting constant hugs and cheerful compliments as we moved around the house to the rhythm of music playing through the speakers. The worst part had been that she wasn’t there because she was with her boyfriend.

Frowning, I reassured her, “You don’t have to apologize for that.” I genuinely didn’t blame her. We hadn’t made any pact to never miss each other’s birthday, after all, and Lia was building a life beyond the cocoon of our childhood and friendship. She had every right to do so. “You know I don’t really like celebrating it, anyway. The guys came home, and we just,” I shrugged, “got drunk. You didn’t miss anything.”

She hummed in response, appearing dissatisfied with my answer. Grabbing a folded blanket from the pile on the sectional, she covered her legs, removing her UGG boots and casually kicking them away with her feet.

I wanted to ask her then about her drinking habits. I wasn’t spending that much time with her anymore and I didn’t know how she was doing; if it was getting worse or if she was trying to keep it down. She didn’t look like she was in the right mood to discuss that that day, and the movie started before I gathered the courage to start the conversation. I decided it was best to avoid it for the day and I let the topic slide away.

Midway through the movie, Lia got up to prepare some afternoon tea. When she returned, she nestled beside me, ensuring her arm and shoulder pressed against mine as she warmed her hands around the steaming mug.

Fifteen minutes before the movie’s end, her phone buzzed, and her expression dimmed upon seeing Mitch’s name and number on the screen of her iPhone.

“Can you pause it for a sec? I need to get this.”

“Sure,” I said.

She excused herself outside, sliding the balcony door almost closed. I took the chance to go to the kitchen and fetch a bag of chips. On my return back to the sofa, I inadvertently overheard Lia’s muffled conversation through the glass, a gentle breeze coming in from the cold temperature outside.

“Yeah, of course. No, I’m just out with some friends. Yeah, we might be late. I will call you when I’m in bed.”

I wasn’t sure if she called him or not that night, but what I did know what that she stayed the night with me. We set up the pullout sofa in the studio and I borrowed her one of my t-shirts. We cooked dinner together and had breakfast outside the next morning.

There was a comforting familiarity in falling back into the routine we once had when we lived together. Silly domestic activities, such as preparing a meal together, passing each other things in the kitchen, one washing, the other drying up, and then letting ourselves fall in the sofa and settling comfortable with our skin touching as if it were the most natural thing between best friends.

By the end of the movie we chose to watch at night, Lia’s head rested on my shoulder, and her hand lay peacefully on my knee under the blanket. A pang of desire surged within me as the credits started rolling and she looked up at me with sleeping eyes, batting her eyelashes. I couldn’t ignore how fucking gorgeous she was. When she rubbed her eyes, I saw my eight-year-old best friend, sitting cross-legged in my grandparent’s spare mattress in my childhood bedroom, the first time she stayed the night.

We exchanged a few comments about the two movies we had watched that day, Lia annoying me with her persistent admiration for Dev Patel’s features and the way his brown eyes sparkled in that one scene and some other bullshit. She laughed at my expression and kissed me goodnight before she called it a night.

I stayed in the living room, gazing at the empty hallway, absorbed in the memory of her sleepy walk towards the bathroom. I pondered why she had lied to Mitch, why she hadn’t told him that she was with me. I hoped that it wouldn’t lead to trouble. I cherished these moments with her and would give anything to enjoy them forever, but not at the cost of jeopardizing her well-being.

[gevaudn]

malarie hummed. "isn't that something? the hales, targaryens, and argents have been matriarchal from the day the gods split the earth to give us this kingdom and just as readily divided us from one another. and just as we are on the verge of closing the chasm between us, our mothers die."

a chill shot through the room at her words, spoken so casually, floating through the air without care of who they touch. camylle and samaya met each others's wide gaze, both unsure of what to make of that. "your highness," samaya attempted, "are you saying⎯"

"i am saying nothing at all," malarie dismissed airily, cattish smile back on her lips. "just that it is a shame how forces beyond us push us to the edge of a civil war time and time again."

isabeau's ears rang in the wake of the princess's words. malarie had a way of speaking, where she danced around what she meant. it was for the better, she knew; malarie could survive the cruel court that she'd been brought up in because she knew how to use her words artfully. it also left her with room to deny anything that came back to her. she'd never explicitly called for the argents' punishment. she'd never said that her father had struck her.

and she was not now explicitly stating that their mothers had been killed.

it had never occurred to isabeau that something unnatural had happened to her mother⎯or to the previous queen, or to the late lady targaryen. she'd been young when all three deaths had occurred; she could barely remember her own mother. but in their positions, death was not a surprise. their women were warriors, just as much as the men. they died in battle, just as often as they died in childbirth or from a plague. their mothers had all died before their daughters were prepared to take on their mantles, so the men had done so; for the targaryens, trytas had been thrusted into that position by the king himself, despite being young himself, but for the argents and the hales, their fathers had stepped up.

isabeau had never thought⎯not once⎯

"you think they killed them?"

she turned around to find lexise and aine standing at the door. she hadn't heard it open up again; she didn't know how long they'd been standing there or how much they'd heard, but it was clearly enough. "lex..."

lexise did not look away from malarie. "you think the king had our mothers killed? my mother?"

malarie did not answer immediately, and isabeau thought she might play word games again, rather than address the question. but when she spoke, her voice was clear of playfulness. "i think this country has been led by women for countless years now," she said. she gestured towards the door and the girls stepped fully inside, closing it behind them. vhaerya waved a hand towards it, blocking out anyone who could seek to scry. no one would have been able to in the first place, not without her and cateryna feeling it, but the extra precaution did not hurt. especially when this was the topic. "and i think," malarie continued, "that three of the most powerful figureheads in our country are now men.

"i think," she said, "that madame martin has taken ill recently and, for reasons far beyond me, made her husband regent, even though martin men do not possess the gift of prophecy."

dorothea's breath caught in her throat. her mother had been sick for so long now. she'd never⎯no. "my father is a good man," she said firmly.

malarie smiled. "i would never argue otherwise." she took vhaerya's hand, stopping her spell. the cut was only half-healed, but the infection was gone and the wolfsbane was out. she smiled her thanks, then addressed the room at large again. "i think this country quite loves the way that it runs, our fathers more than most. the last time there was a threat to our lifestyles... well, there is only one piece of evidence left of that, isn't there?"

fei did not react. malarie didn't have to call her by name for them to know who she meant. the xings were a powerful family in china generations ago⎯a family strong enough to rival the hales, even. they were massive and united and good people.

and now she was the only one, standing in servitude with a collar around her throat.

her point made, malarie smoothed her hands over her skirt. "it is a shame," she repeated, "that forces beyond us seem to favor the divide."

she didn't say more than that, but aurelia understood. whatever the reason for the blood feud between their families, it had settled in so deeply that taking out one person was not a solution. there was rot in this country, one that ran down to its foundations. they could kill sir argent and even the king, but would that do any good? would that put a stop to the violence, or would it only breed more rumors of calamity?

brunnhilde met illiana's gaze for a moment. though she hadn't known france had fallen a victim to such corruption, it didn't surprise her. she'd seen countless empires fall due to the greed and stubbornness of men. and she could even understand the need to keep them divided; so long as the hales, targaryens, and argents did not get too close to one another, one could not be seen as weaker than the other. they could play their roles without truly submitting, and when the time came, they could take the power that they wanted for themselves.

politics were messy and bloody when they were human. between supernatural folks, it was even more so.

"if he did⎯" isabeau clenched her jaw and forced herself to breathe. it was all speculation; malarie did not say that their fathers were behind their mothers' deaths. but it was in her head now, the very possibility of it. and it made her all the more aware of malarie's father hitting her with a ring of wolfsbane. if it had not been treated, would it have healed? or would malarie have fallen sick, too? would it have⎯⎯she couldn't. she couldn't bear to continue that line of thought. she lifted her chin a bit and nodded. "whether he did or didn't, the fact remains that he has committed unlawful acts against innocent people and put the crown princess in harm's way. his death would be a mercy. do as you wish."

"he would cut off the hand of anyone else who dared to strike you," elaiyna said furiously. lenore's own hands were clasped in front of her, and her knuckles turned white as she thought of what the king had done. he knew what such a blow would do to his daughter; he knew she risked terrible infection, and yet he had done so anyway. the thought made her want to strike him herself.

"and what of them?" elaiyna continued, gesturing to the pirates among them. "tell me, what were you doing when the argent fleet happened upon you? where were you?"

mikaere looked in her direction, and, after a moment, forced himself to meet her eyes. "we were sailing in the western sea, not yet within sight of land. it was just after dawn, and we had been discussing what to eat for breakfast when they came upon us."

"so you were attacking no one, and had made no move to do anything of the sort?"

"none at all," mikaere confirmed.

"i fear treachery," elaiyna said, teeth sinking into her lower lip. "surely i am not the only one who has thought of it. they had not been hunting pirates for any length of time; had they been, someone in this room would have known of it. why torment them and drag them before the court, frame them as a gift from gabrielle, then run to the king when they were not immediately executed? and why would father believe sir argent over his own child, over the heir to the throne?"

"why would either of our fathers do any of these things?" gabrielle asked, following worriedly after malarie and watching as vhaerya tended to her. "regardless of who is currently at the seat of power, both argent and hale are meant to be matriarchal."

"perhaps that is at the root of it all," lenore mused. "before any of us were born, someone drove a wedge between our houses, set into the minds of the hales that the targaryens would betray them. yet here we stand now, all of us, united. they've seen us together in recent months, as well, all of us, have they not? perhaps they fear what union might be brought about if our houses unite. look at what malarie has done for our new friends, what gabrielle's defense of them brought about, as well."

"are you suggesting they do not want us to be united within the kingdom?" aeron asked.

"would you believe otherwise?"

he considered for a moment, then: "i would have, up until this morning. but after the events of the day have transpired, i must admit it is concerning to the greatest degree. i would have thought, hoped, that all would want what was best for our kingdom, but now..."

"and they balk at the idea of being a true matriarchy, don't they?" lenore added. aine winced, looking down at her feet.

"will it help, to fight him? or make things worse?" mary wondered.

"if he intends treason, then stopping him can only help," mikaere said quietly. gabrielle nodded, then looked to her sister.

"his actions have caused terrible harm to all of those present here and now. if my sister agrees, then so do i."