#this is the breaking point Ive been waiting for. right now the cracks are simply expanding but soon things might get Rough

[chisatowo]

Read the new sekai story. Not ok.

[thelavendercatalogue]

But not tired enough to turn one of his IV covered hands palm up to grab at Jigens hand and him doing that alone is enough to break Jigen cause in the end Lupin still trusts him to make the right decisions no matter how heartbreaking He just wishes, as Jigen cries into his neck, that Jigen didn’t have too

When Lupins unconscious, in these few long and tenuous hours before his drugs start to wear off and he's allowed just a few brief moments of lucidity, there are moments in between where Jigen will sit with him and wait for him to wake up, spending often all the day with him if he can before he's put back under just as Jigen has to leave.

During the bad period, that lengthy span of time when things often went from bad to worse and Lupins health deteriorated, he was put under for longer periods of time in the hope that his body would heal in his sleep.

During this bad period, when Lupin would be under Jigen would stay with him for longer time lengths, as if he was afraid of Lupin slipping away when he wasn't there by his side. And during this time, when Jigen would be alone with him, Jigen would often talk to him, when he was absolutely certain Lupin could not hear him.

It would be little things, small conversations about his day, things you would often talk about to people in these sorts of conditions when they couldn't enjoy the day themselves.

But as the day's would go on, and progress would continue to grind to a halt, the conversations got more personal; secret confessions, hard kept secrets, things he was certain Lupin doesn't know, and that had it not been for the current situation, probably would never leave Jigens mouth.

After a particularly bad spell, when Jigens nerves are shot and Lupin's body is all but weakened and beaten by the various ailments and issues plaguing him, Jigen finds a small spot beside him on the bed, and talks to the unconscious man.

Jigen is not stupid. He knows things are bleak. He also knows this has been a long time coming; poor Lupin, he had been falling apart for years, he hadn't been the same when they reunited as young adults. . . who knows how long ago now. . hell he wasn't even the same back when they were kids after that train accident. Something always felt off after it, but Jigen could never pinpoint it.

Maybe even now he still couldn't.

Lupin had not been right for years. The incident with Goemon, Albert and Tomoe had beaten him in far more wort ways than anyone outside of Jigen could have imagined, no matter how well Lupin kept a lid on it, and Jigen knew that deep down those new situations had been partially to blame for Lupins weakness in both spirit and body, amongst other things of course.

He knew Lupin was failing in many ways and that everything was boiling down to the penultimate decision in Lupin's life of what would come of this moment and whatever came after it. But deep down, in the small private and secluded darkness in his head, Jigen had begun to wonder idly if there ever would be an "after" or if they would never move on past this point.

When Lupin's progress completely stalled, that familiar darkness in his head grew each day and Jigen never knew how to handle the thought that came with it. But still he held out hope that he was just being paranoid, that this was simply the fall before the rise. That was until a whitecoat had pulled him to the side and told him about the infection growing in Lupin's battered and broken femur that had started to spread throughout his body.

Upon hearing the news Jigen had actually laughed, a laugh so breathless and winded and mildly insane sounding that the doc staring at him might have actually had thought about throwing him in the psych-ward.

But it was not Jigen cracking.  . .not yet anyways.

No it was simply Jigen laughing at the absurdity of it all. Why if he didn't know any better at this point he would swear that Lupin was trying to di-

. . . . .

no. . .

maybe. . .

but why. . .did he really want to leave. . .did he really wanna leave him behind?

No. . .No Lupin may have been cynical and jaded at times but he was never cruel, he wouldn't intentionally leave him behind. . .

. . .would he. . .?

That thought had plagued Jigen for days after that. When the time finally came when the doctors couldn't combat the infection in a timely manner and a decision had to be made on whether or not to let the leg go, Jigen found himself once again by Lupin's side, sitting in that small space beside him like he had been for weeks at this point.

Lupin had just fallen asleep, having weakly given Jigen the go ahead to make the decision for him. Because he trusted him, even now. . .even now he trusted him and long after Lupin had fallen back to sleep, Jigen had pressed his face into his hair and silently sobbed into the dark strands when he knew Lupin couldn't hear him.

Because the look in Lupin's eye that he had seen had given him a weird empty feeling, one that had cemented the thought of Lupin finally wishing to give up in his head. Lupin looked tired, exhausted even. But it was far from the drugs and even the pain that combated them that caused it. Because he had seen that look in Lupin's eyes before. When Lupin was at his lowest, bleakest moment when Jigen was lucky to pull him away from the edge and nearly failed doing so a few times.

Was this it?

Was Lupin really ready?

. . . . .Was Jigen ready.

Jigen loved Lupin, he loved him more than anything he had ever loved before in this world. More than his gun, his hat, his reputation, hell maybe even his family. Lupin had been the best thing to ever happen to him, and Jigen would do anything for him, and Lupin knew that. But Jigen wasn’t certain if he had the strength to do this, to let him go if Lupin was truly ready to go. He wasn’t sure he would survive it. He barely did before during their separation, and he was lucky that Lupin even came back to him. If he made a decision now then. . .Lupin would never. . .he’d never. . .never come- no no no Jigen starts to cry again. Because he can’t. He can’t and he wont. He wouldn’t survive losing lupin, not again, not now, not ever and he tells the sleeping man that, pleads to his hair to not leave him behind please don’t don’t leave me now. . I won’t. . .I won’t- A sob, a heart wrenching gut sucking sob. It tapers off a little, and Jigen sternly tells the sleeping man under his arm:

“Tomorrow’s the day We make the decision. If you wanna go you can, I won't stop you if that’s really what you want, you know I wouldn't be able to anyways.  .  . I just want one thing-” “Just take me with you. . .. please just take me with you if you go. .”

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding VII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - Part II - - - Part III - - - Part IV - - - Part V - - - Part VI

CONTENT WARNING: Please be advised this chapter may contain triggering material. More detail available in tags. 

It wasn’t until Anakin was staring at the hot sauce bottles and solitary mysterious green takeout container that he remembered they were at war, and therefore no longer in the habit of restocking the apartment’s cold stasis.

“Obi-Wan, there’s nothing to eat!” 

"I know!” came the call back. “I’m trying to meditate!”

Anakin closed the stasis door and walked back out to the common room. Obi-Wan sat crosslegged on the window sill.

“Do or do not, there is no try,” the knight quipped.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to look fondly at the man standing before him. Maybe tomorrow, when he woke alone in a dusty desert hovel, he would regret letting himself play pretend for so long. Maybe this whole day would fade from his memory like a dream.

But right now, he felt... peaceful. He wouldn’t claim to be satisfied by the explanations he imagined for Anakin, but it would have been far more disturbing if he somehow came up with an actually sympathetic justification for genocide. He got to say and hear a number of goodbyes. He even got to cry over Anakin with the comfort of his presence. 

Now he had to let go, to be there for Luke. (And he could always get more spice...)

“I guess if you need to meditate, I can go pick us up food from the Temple Tapcaf.” Anakin offered. 

“Thank you, Anakin. Today...helped. More than I can explain.” Obi-Wan said softly.

“I- I don’t really deserve that. Considering it was all my fault.” Anakin bowed his head, helpless for words, but uncomfortable with being praised.

“Not every terrible thing that has happened is your fault. You made a series of terrible choices, yes. But there were, there are, other dark forces at work and not a single Jedi in the order was able to stop them. At least for a short time today I was able to set that aside, so for what it’s worth, thank you.”

“Kriff.” Anakin said shocked. “Of course there’s more. Ok. That’s all right, we-” he was cut off by a growl from Obi-Wan’s stomach. 

A snort of laughter escaped before Anakin smacked a hand over his mouth. “Alright, I’m going to the Tapcaf, you just...meditate until I get back.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and nodded, “I love you so much.” 

“Force Obi-Wan, you’re going to make me start crying again.” He pulled him into a bear hug. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m not gone, ok? Just...meditate. And drink some water.”

"Hmm, I don’t know. Some of my best choices recently have been stupid,” Obi-Wan laughed. The words were light, but Anakin felt a prickle of unease, a hint of danger. There was no clear cause, and Obi-Wan seemed relaxed but...

Anakin gripped his Master’s shoulders, staring him dead in the eye. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I promise.” He pulled Anakin down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Anakin.”

"I’ll be back in 20 minutes.” He paused, then mumbled, “i love you too” before speeding out the door.

Obi-Wan settled back into meditation, reaching inwards. Everything but his body and the light within faded. He magnified his hunger, his thirst, visualizing the pack of dried jerky in his hut, the precious jars of water in the basement. He could almost feel the heat that never quite abandoned Tatooine, even during the short nights. He opened his eyes

and saw the temple apartment.

He shut them again quickly. He was sure he could snap himself out of this. He sank deeper inward, careful to leave his shields perfectly intact. With the galaxy as dim as it was, a real show of force had the potential to grab attention across star systems. Force purging toxins, fortunately, was more a matter of internal concentration than outward power. It was one of the first skills Obi-Wan had truly mastered as a Jedi, thanks to numerous kidnappings at the start of his apprenticeship and hard drinking towards the end. 

It was uncomfortable to be that keenly aware of one’s kidneys, but Obi-Wan managed. It was less intense than a healing trance, anyway. His heart rate increased as various metabolic processes sped up- and almost immediately slowed down. Huh. The drug must of almost run its natural course, and now he 

still in the temple.

Kark. Shit. 

‘Breathe’ he thought. Stress was only going to increase his chances of a stroke. Alright, so meditation wasn’t working. Maybe he could try for longer, but part of him was nervous that if ‘Anakin’ returned he’d lose the willpower, and so far the passage of time had been extremely linear. He was too invested in the fantasy at this point for anything easy.

Remember your training. Your eyes can deceive you, do not trust them. 

Padawans were taught three main methodologies to move beyond mindtricks, hallucinations, visions, and the like. Looking In, Reaching Out, and Breaking Out. 

Looking in wasn’t working. That left the other two options. In the past, when his senses were lying to him he could always trust in the force, but now...it was just too much risk. Reaching out like that, with his whole self, meant the chance of finding someone.

That left breaking out. Obi-Wan jumped up, staring intensely at the details in the molding, the stains on the carpet, at everything. At no point today had he spotted objects fading to grey in the corner his vision, or ripple as memories from different time frames overlapped, but surely there must be some weak point.

Nothing. 

Shit, he really had stayed too long. Alright then, time for more uncivilized measures.

He walked to the kitchen and pulled their butcher’s vibroblade from its block, holding it to his neck, then hesitated.

This had to be done, but it didn’t make it any less unsettling. It was his own fault for lingering in the delusion so long; all the more palatable paths to escape had closed off, and after all he had been through he refused to die from a drug overdose. Gods, it might take years for someone to find the body.

He steeled himself, bringing the blade back up decisively only to drop it with a clatter. Pressing a hand to his throat, he was unnerved but not entirely surprised to find a stinging line of pain. His hand came away wet with blood. He instinctively pressed both hands to the cut, pulse rapid and heavy and slippery beneath his palms.

It’s just a hallucination. It’s just an extremely vivid hallucination.

A thought occurred to Obi-Wan then, and he felt something in the pit of his stomach drop in horror.

What if...what if the blade was real. What if he was actually moving around his home right now, hazily sleepwalking in a pantomime of the peaceful stroll and tender embraces he was imagining. It would explain the immediate relief from the water this morning...hadn’t he found his way to food and water even dazed from sleep-debt and blood-loss during the war?

He had a vibroblade in the desert too...

His pulse pounded harder beneath his hands. The cut wasn’t even that deep, but for the first time Obi-Wan felt the true existential horror of his current trap well up. If he didn’t know where the walls were...how could he escape.

He took a deep breath, acknowledging and letting go of his panic.

He had the force. He would just have to be delicate in his application. He picked up the bloodied tool from the floor but decided to simply to clip it to his belt for now. A force-null object would be harder to distinguish at first touch.

Obi-Wan walked to his temple bedroom and opened the barest crack in his shields, just enough to reach out, get a sense of existing currents in the force. He stirred at one until a small vortex of light formed. To anyone looking, it would appear a naturally occurring, low-powered whirlpool, common enough on Tattoine. Any gentle moves he made in the minutes before it fell apart would hopefully be obscured by its wake.

He hesitantly laid a hand on the lightsaber on his bedside table, lowering his shields a little further. His heart sunk when he realized that his memory had even recreated the perception of force-imbued temple walls in the periphery. The Kyber in his saber reverberated with a familiar song. He jerked his hand away. That felt too much like his real lightsaber. He couldn’t risk it. 

Before Obi-Wan truly began to panic again, he realized something missing. Anakin’s- Darth Vader’s saber. Since picking it up on Mustafar, the crystal in it had screamed at him, halfway to corruption. When he touched the blade he could almost feel... feel what horrors it had been bent to commit.

Most of the time he left it buried under a rock pile in his basement, too afraid to work on healing it.

He couldn’t hear it now- but he could feel the memory of what it used to be.

It sat innocently on his Anakin’s bedside table. There was a tinge of darkness to it of course- this saber had only ever known war. But when he rested a hand on the blade it was clear this belonged to the memory he had walked with today, not the tyranny of reality.

Grasping it firmly, he marched back to the windowsill and settled, intent on his choice. Sunsets here couldn’t compare to tattooine- they were just too different. The binary play transformed the infinite horizon. It was something on Tatooine he unabashedly marveled at.

Courasant, on the other hand, transformed the sun into a reflection of itself. Untold millions of transparisteel buildings refracted the star painfully at some points while casting shadows on the rest. The filter of light through constant smog resulted in strange shades of neon green and blood red. It was beautiful, but uncomfortable to look at too long.

He closed his eyes and pressed the saber to his chest.

---

Anakin was impatiently waiting in the hot service line when the urge to return to his apartment insistently welled up again. He pushed it back of course- Obi-Wan needed food and Anakin couldn’t keep putting his own selfish impulses in front of his Master’s wellbeing.

He held out for a few seconds, but the itch was getting stronger, sharper. He looked down at the tray- it already had most of Obi-Wan’s cold favorites, but he really wanted to get him his favorite soup if the line would just move a little faster. He jolted when, for the first time that day, Obi-Wan’s shielding thinned the slightest amount. Not enough to get anything clear, but the fact that there was movement at all...

He left the line; they could always come back together if Obi-Wan wanted. Hells, maybe they’d do a late night visit to Dex’s for some real comfort food. Anakin still couldn’t get a sense of what Obi-Wan was up to through their muffled bond. He felt a buzz in his ears, not unlike the moment before an enemy blow.

He picked up speed, tea sloshing in its thermoflask. An elder looked at him annoyed as darted around him.

He started speed walking in earnest as the feeling got more intense. A sandwich fell to the wayside.

Speed walking quickly switched to jogging, then running; there was a shout of complaint as he ditched the whole tray carelessly behind.

He took the last few hallways at a full-out force-assisted sprint, the Force itself screaming at him to move. A small part of his mind thought we’re safe inside the temple Obi-Wan promised not to do anything stupid i’m going to get such shit for freaking out over nothing. 

He sensed nothing from Obi-Wan over the bond; not a hint of fear or anger or surprise. He blurred around the last corner, feeling like he might throw up with his increasing, unexplained panic.

Not caringabout anything butgettingto Obi-Wan beforeitstoolate he smashed down the door at the same moment Obi-Wan, sitting peacefully by the window, turned on the lightsaber pointing directly at his heart.

Time seemed to slow. Splinters of the door frame hung in the air as Anakin desperately pulled the lightsaber away from Obi-Wan in the half-second between activation and ignition.

He wasn’t quite fast enough.

Blue plasma pierced Obi-Wan’s chest as time caught up. Pieces of the wall shattered like shrapnel as he turned, shocked to see Anakin. The saber flew away in a straight arrow. 

Anakin threw himself to Obi Wan’s side, wildly trying to draw heat away from the searing hole before it could vaporize the surrounding flesh. He couldn’t tell what the saber had pierced, or how far it had gone in considering its last second movement.

One hand trained on a hundred battle fields robotically reached for his comm-unit to call for emergency medical assistance. His mind however, had largely been left behind a few minutes ago, when he was trying to pick what Obi-Wan would want to eat for dinner.

What came out his mouth was more incoherent shrieking than anything else, but he had at least called the correct line for temple aid.

He threw down the comm, focus intent on controlling the smoldering burn. The air around them seemed to boil and Obi-Wan started struggling to get away. Anakin bodily held him down, finally finding words,

“What the FUCK, OBI-WAN! YOU LITERALLY JUST PROMISED NOT TO DO ANYTHING STUPID! YOU PROMISED!”

“that’s why- hkk I  have  to” Obi-Wan rasped.

“Karking Fuck.YOU- STOP MOVING!”

Anakin felt a twinge of danger come from the side but was too focused to do anything but shift his body as shield. A sharp pain pierced his gut but he ignored it. 

The air crackled with heat and power as the wound beneath him cooled. A faint trickle of dark blood oozed out, probably burns breaking from recent movement, considering the instant cauterization. He couldn’t see any light coming through, which meant he had moved the saber at least a quarter klick before it activated, Anakin thought semi hysterically.

Finally, someone showed up to investigate the disturbance. In truth, probably less than a minute had passed since Anakin entered the room, but he really didn’t care.

“HELP ME!” Anakin shouted.

“What happened?” Mace Windu asked grimly, falling to the ground next to them. Not waiting for an answer, he set his lit saber aside and placed his hand to Obi-Wan’s forehead, stilling the violent thrashing.

Anakin opened his mouth but he just didn’t have the words. He didn’t know. 

“General Skywalker, report.” Mace Windu commanded sharply. 

“I left him alone to get dinner for us. I ran back and when I broke open the door he was holding the lightsaber to his chest. I tried...to pull it away. It pierced him, and I’ve been trying to manage the initial burn risk. I called for medi but I don’t know their eta.”

“They’re behind me. How did you get stabbed?” the Master demanded.

“How did I what?” Anakin looked down to see a vibroblade sticking out from his left side. Right, the pain from before. Obi-Wan suddenly mustered up the energy to wake up despite his state and Windu’s compulsion. He looked around wildly before yanking the knife from Anakin’s side.

Anakin gasped, but managed to still his brother’s hand using the force before he could finish bringing it up to his neck, which Anakin just noticed was bloody.

“STOP TRYING TO DIE!” Anakin screeched.

“...I’m...not....I’m....trying.....to...” 

But before Obi-Wan could finish the sentence, the healers finally arrived, pushing Windu aside to grab hold of Anakin and Obi-Wan. He could feel a buzz of energy go through him, stopping at the growing damp patch at his side. He tried to push the man away but the heat in the room was starting to make him dizzy

“I’m fine! Focus on Obi-Wan.”

Mace placed a hand on his shoulder, and in the gentlest voice he had ever heard from the man, said, “You’ve been stabbed Anakin. Let the healers help both of you- you’ve done well looking out for him.”

Obi-Wan, still occasional thrashing was being loaded onto a hoverstrech for transport. A second stretcher waited next to it. 

“Master Windu! He’s fighting us,” Master Che called sharply. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Master Kenobi tried to kill himself,” Windu replied flatly. “His wounds are self inflicted and he’s violently fighting assistance” 

There was a beat as that information was processed. Knight Bant, who must have arrived at some point, said in slightly less flat voice, “He displayed erratic behavior earlier today, and I ruled out drug interactions.”

“Thank you, Knight Bant.” Master Che plunged a syringe of some kind into Obi-Wans thigh. He finally stopped attempting to fight, falling down onto the board. “Red team, with me. Orange, you have Skywalker,” She instructed sharply. 

Anakin numbly watched most of the healers leave with Obi-Wan through a hole in the wall. He slowly started to stand and somehow ended up guided into a seat on the hoverboard. Looking down, he was surprised to see his tunic cut away in favor of a large bacta patch. 

“Hey,” he protested. “Who stabbed me?”

“We can discuss that after you have surgery,” A Human healer replied. Master Covamos, he thought.

“This is my fault” Anakin said, suddenly urgent. “I shouldn’t have left him. He told me goodbye, he was saying goodbye all day, I should have...”

“You saved his life,” Windu interrupted. “You got to him just in time, don’t waste your energy on should-haves. Now sleep.”

Anakin wanted to argue more, but instead found himself laying down, vision blurring. His face felt damp, had he been stabbed more than once? Windu said a few more words he couldn’t quite make out. There was a brief stinging sensation, then everything faded away. 

----

Part VIII

[lovelykei]

Haikyuu bf on insta pt.6 ‼️

Im finally here with hq bfs part 6!! This was requested by @eitadesu​ @wansseul​ and @nia-vsqz 

I had already done sakusa so please check my masterlist out! Anyways sorry for the wait I hope you enjoy these!

Atsumu:

“We are n o t climbing a mountain to take cute pictures tsumu”

“B but babe 🥺 it’s only a 1 hour hike🥺”

“I can’t take cute pictures iF IVE HIKED FOR 1 HOUR TSUMU”

That’s the story on how you found yourself at a beach at the crack of dawn😳

He had set up the camera and walked over to wrap his arms around you

“My baby is so pretty, even when you’re sleepy”

Atsumu is a master at sweet talking, he knows exactly what to say to make you feel better

So even though you were cranky about your lack of sleep you melted like putty in his arms🥺

He knew you were a bit camera shy so he always did his best to make you feel comfortable.

He never pushed you to pose but rather just held you close🥺

He really liked looking through the pictures and seeing you smile so whole heartedly at him

It made his heart go ✨🥰💓💕💗🧚🏻‍♂️✨💓🧚🏻💗💕🥰🧚‍♀️

So when you softly rubbed your nose with his in an Eskimo kiss he couldn’t help but wrap his arms tighter around you.

Atsumu wasn’t one to say thank you too often, he usually felt that he deserved getting praised bigegoassbitch😔

HoWEVER when he stood there with you in his arms he thanked all the gods and angels for letting him have you.

Maybe it was they way the light reflected on Atsumus features that made you heart beat like you were 16 again

Or maybe it was the way his eyes met yours and made you feel like the most important person in the world

Whatever it was, on an empty beach at 5:53 on a Saturday

you fell inlove with Miya Atsumu all over again💗

Semi :

First of all semi 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

Now that we got that out of the way- let’s begin-

Semi looks h o t playing the guitar, I mean he usually looks like a Greek god but with a guitar? Deadly.

You wanted to learn how to play too, and be a sexy queen/king

And it started, everyday he would sit down in the sofa with you either on his lap or right next to him

For 2 weeks he taught you all the easy basic chords like C G D Dm Am A E Em and so on

But you felt confident, you wanted to learn something harder

So this mf goes straight to bm and you realise your fingers are too short and there’s no way you could ever-

Anyways it takes you a while. It’s an awkward position for your fingers and it feels like your fingers simply don’t reach😔

Semi is v patient, he moves your fingers slowly and carefully

Kisses everytime you get it right🥰

After struggling with bm for about 1 hour semi decided to give you a break lmao

You guys got something to eat before getting back to business 😤

You set your phone up to record and say next to semi ready for your lesson🥵

He kissed your head before getting down to business 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💗💗💗💗💗💗✨✨✨✨✨🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Anyways that’s the story of how you got a wholesome and soft picture with your boyfriend

Semi loved music and he loved you so being able to do music with you was his absolute favorite thing 🥺🥰✨

Shirabu :

It took a l o t of convincing to get shirabu to get couple stuff.

You wanted matching phone cases? Prepare a PowerPoint on the benefits.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have matching stuff and act like a couple

He’s just a bitch He just genuinely enjoyed teasing you😔

But sometimes when he’d been particularly harsh on you he would surprise you

Yesterday was one of those days when he accidentally went to far

He had said something along the lines of “I don’t need you to be able to play volleyball well” which wasn’t necessarily a lie but it still hurt you regardless

Which is why he decided to ✨make it up for you ✨

He showed up at your dorm after volleyball practice, usually you’d go watch him but since he can’t act right- 😤😤😤😤

N e ways he showed up with a bag in hand and you were like 👁👄👁

And he pulls out this matching couple pajamas

“Kenji 🥺🥺🥺” “I didn’t mean what I said yesterday or well..I don’t need you but at the very least it enhances my performance...slightly...or something”

This is the closest you’ll get to an apology so 😳

Anyways you both put your pajamas on and sit on the couch to watch something

“Actually lets take a pict-“ “no” “🥺🥺” “fine”

You couldn’t get him to smile tho but that’s just a minor inconvenience at this point

Right after you snapped the picture you squealed at how good looking your mans is

So you did the only thinkable..you threw yourself over him and started kissing his face

Kenjiro showing affection? 💀

Kenjiro receiving affection? 🥰

He wrapped his arms around your waist and melted like putty from your touch

He is a simp but make it low key 🥵

Anyways you end up having a sleepover in your dorm 🥺🥺✨

Suna is the Cuddliest!! Person!! Ever!!

Although he came off as a arrogant apathetic guy he truly was the sweetest person, he was just tired all the time

He was like a cat, you know how cats don’t fall asleep around strangers but then when they trust you the even sleep on their backs?

That’s suna 😳🐱🥺

Anyways considering this was your favorite activity, it wasn’t weird for suna to call you over when he got a new bed

He used to have a single bed so it was really small and you had to sleep on top of him

Not anymore tho 😤

You probably still will tho-

Anyways so he called you over to try out his new bed

Notlikethatyanasties

So as soon as you made it to his house he was waiting on you by the door

you both rushed to his room to wrap yourself under the soft covers

“Am I in heaven taro? This must be heaven?🥺” “there’s even angels here y/n”

“𝒮𝒾𝓇 𝓅𝓁𝓈🥺”

“Never said it was you” 🥴

“𝒮𝒾𝓇 𝓅𝓁𝓈😡”

This fkn boy is a bully but it’s okay he always kisses it better 😳

After he kissed it better 😤 you wanted to take a picture so you scooted closer to him and angled your phone

He smooched your cheek 🥺🥺💗💗💗

You couldn’t decide which bed you liked better, the new or the old one

What you did know however is that your number #1 favorite place would always be Taros arms 🥺💗

[jeonggukingdom]

splinters of love • masterlist

pairing  ⟶ ot7 x fem!Reader

summary  ⟶ a collection of drabbles (one for each day of April) based on prompts by an online prompts’ generator site.

genre  ⟶ fluff, angst, smut

warnings  ⟶ graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, dirty talk, cuss words, fighting (details will be warned in the specific drabbles).

•  l e g e n d  [ ☀︎  fluff  |  ☁︎  angst |  ✘ smut |  ★  crack  ] (links on mobile may not work, if you’re looking for all the works in this series, you can click on the “!splintersoflove” tag and you’ll find them all there!) ⟶ day  • I  - knj x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎  ↳ in which you trace your names together in the sand on your first anniversary and take hundreds of selfies together to remember the day by.

⟶ day  • II - ksj x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎ ↳ in which you are too sore from working out to lift your arms so your boyfriend volunteers to help you but you quickly realize it was just an excuse to tickle you to the point of tears.

  ⟶ day  • III - myg x fem!Reader   ⟶ ✘ ↳ in which you decide to have a little fun inside the library but Yoongi is having a really hard time keeping quiet.

⟶ day  • IV  - jhs x fem!Reader   ⟶ ★☀︎ ↳ in which you decide to surprise your boyfriend with a homemade dinner failing to remember how terrible of a cook you are and him coming back to the mess you’ve made of your kitchen.

⟶ day  • V   - pjm x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎ ↳ in which Jimin is simply not able to sleep without you in his bed and he physically drags you away from the pc—and your job— to pull you into his arms and cuddle until you are both sound asleep.

⟶ day  • VI   - kth x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎ ★ ↳ in which you’re at a theme park and Taehyung is adamant about winning you a stuffed bear that kind of looks like him but it ends up with you winning the price for him instead. 

  ⟶ day  • VII   - jjk x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎ ✘ ↳ in which you went for a night of stargazing but things get kind of romantic and passionate and all of a sudden it’s raining cats and dogs but you don’t want to stop.

⟶ day  • VIII  - knj x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎   ↳ in which you shower together after a very long day at work and Namjoon helps you dry and brush your hair to help you relax and decompress.

⟶ day  • IX - ksj x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎   ↳ in which it’s New Year’s Eve but you and your boyfriend live miles apart so you’re spending it all alone in your apartment but then midnight is about to strike and here he is, knocking at your door to kiss you senseless the moment the clock hits twelve.

⟶ day  • X  - myg x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☁︎ ☀︎ ↳ in which you’re both single parents and your kids have turned into best friends in the past few weeks but your child is misbehaving again and Yoongi decides to make a comment on your parenting skills that may or may not break you down to tears. For which, he decides to make it up to you.

⟶ day  • XI  - jhs x fem!Reader   ⟶ ★ ✘ ↳ in which you wake up next to one another after a very drunk one night stand and have no idea of what comes next.

⟶ day  • XII - pjm x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎ ↳ in which Jimin ditches his own royal ball in favour of a dance with you under the moonlight.

⟶ day  • XIII  - kth x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☁︎ ☀︎  ↳ in which you and Taehyung have split up but you bought Yeontan together and neither of you wants to part ways with it so you decide to alternate days to take care of him which turns up meaning you have to frequently see each other and well, maybe the feelings weren’t as dead as you both thought they were.

⟶ day  • XIV - jjk x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☁︎ ↳ in which Jeongguk is more than ready to finish this mission with you and hopefully never see you again but your heart resides in a quite different place.

⟶ day  • XV  - knj x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎ ↳ in which you have simply run out of games to entertain your 3-years-old daughter when you are stuck in quarantine so you decide to finger paint her bedroom’s wall with her just to see what happens.

⟶ day  • XVI  - ksj x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎ ↳ in which you casually fall asleep on this stranger’s shoulder in the train and he has no idea what to do so he skips his own stop and waits for you to wake up until, crap, you’ve reached the terminal and now you both have to get out and figure out an alternative way to reach your homes.

⟶ day  • XVII  - myg x fem!Reader   ⟶  ☁︎ ☀︎   ↳ in which Yoongi feels lonely and decides to text a random number in search of a friend and you are the one at the other end of the line.

⟶ day  • XVIII  - jhs x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎ ↳ in which you spend the entire day cuddling into bed, hugging each other, foreheads touching, forehead kisses, Eskimo kisses and light pecks on the lips, drowning in each other’s gazes.

⟶ day  • XIX - pjm x fem!Reader   ⟶ ★ ☀︎ ↳ in which you are about to share your first kiss but something goes wrong and you hit foreheads so hard you have now matching bruises.

⟶ day  • XX - kth x fem!Reader   ⟶ ★ ☀︎ ↳ in which Taehyung hogs all the blankets so you are forced to cling on to him for dear life in search of some warmth.

⟶ day  • XXI  - jjk x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎✘   ↳ in which he tells you he’s in love with you for the first time and you can’t help but smile like an idiot because of it. And kiss him senseless, of course.

⟶ day  • XXII  - knj x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎ ↳ in which you get stuck on a Ferris wheel for thirty whole minutes and end up confessing your feelings for each other.

⟶ day  • XXIII - ksj x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎✘ ↳ in which Seokjin has been wanting to propose for a while now but he has lost the ring and he doesn’t know what to do with himself until you show up, quite flustered, with the ring right between your fingers.  

⟶ day  • XXIV  - myg x fem!Reader   ⟶  ☁︎ ☀︎ ↳ in which Yoongi is teaching you how to kiss because you’ve never done it before but you end up getting him all flustered when you suddenly place a quick kiss on his pouty lips.

⟶ day  • XXV - jhs x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☁︎ ↳ in which Hoseok speaks the word you never wanted to hear coming from his mouth. Goodbye.

  ⟶ day  • XXVI - pjm x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☁︎ ☀︎ ↳ in which you and Jimin find each other again after years apart and he promises to never let you go again.

⟶ day  • XXVII - kth x fem!Reader   ⟶ ✘ ↳ in which you’re having heated sex in a public space and Taehyung is failing so hard at keeping quiet that you have to forcefully silent him with your mouth.

⟶ day  • XXVIII - jjk x fem!Reader   ⟶ ✘☀︎ ↳ in which Jeongguk finally arrives home incredibly late and finds you asleep on top of the covers, completely naked.

⟶ day  • XXIX  - knj x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☀︎��� ↳ in which you went camping by the lake and decide to go swim in it as the sun rises. 

  ⟶ day  • XXX - pjm x fem!Reader   ⟶ ☁︎ ☀︎ ↳ in which you are a ghost and you have fallen in love with Jimin and have no idea how to make yourself visible to him without scaring the living shit out of him.

[picassho-18]

Art of Fire (IV)

Zuko x Fem!Reader; Part 4; 2k words

Series summary: The recently crowned Fire Lord Zuko meets a new friend of his Uncle’s, a special fire bender that quickly grabs his interest over a cup of tea and the discussion of the arts. 

ALL CURRENTLY POSTED PARTS: Part 1   Part 2   Part 3    Part 4

An air of silent comfort surrounded the two of you as Zuko led you outside the gates of the Fire Nation capitol. Past the wall, a giant forest approached you, as Zuko confidently stepped into the thick groove of trees.

Following just a step behind in, you had to focus on where you were stepping, avoiding all the tripping hazards of tree roots, bushes, and vines. Zuko, however, was walking as if the path he was taking was memorized. Which it was, Zuko has walked this exact path multiple times by himself, but you didn’t know that.

Breaking the silence as you carefully stepped over a fallen branch, you asked him, “What can even be this deep in the forest?”

He turned around, his eyes glinting mischievously, “A few more steps and you’ll see.”

He stopped walking, and as you finally caught up to him, he turned to his right, parting a dense thicket of branches.

What it revealed was amazing.

Beyond the thick wall of vegetation, a sparkling pool of water shined brightly in the middle of a large grassy clearing. The large lake reflected the morning sun’s rays, casting fragments of light around the concealed area. 

A huge smile of pure amazement broke out on your face, quickly turning to Zuko in your shock.

He looked back at you with a softer smile, as he explained how he found the place. “I just stumbled upon the lake when I was taking a walk clearing my head, a few weeks after my coronation.”

“It’s amazing” you breathed, looking back at the complete beauty of pure nature right before your eyes.

Zuko pulled the branches farther apart, opening them wide enough for you to fit through. “After you.”

After you stepped through, you held the branches apart for him but your gaze was still on the shimmering lake. It was the first time you’ve seen a body of water that expansive.

He led you to a patch of sand at the edge of water, in a fluid motion kicking his shoes off before sitting down, rubbing his hands through the soft sand.

Still slightly stunned, your eyes never pulled away from the water while you sat down next to him. In the back of your head, it reminded you of the pond from the courtyard, the pair of you sitting at the edges of the pond there.

Finally, you teared your eyes of the water, and looked at Zuko, to see he was already looking at you. Warmth spread on your cheeks, before you asked quietly, as if you didn’t want to disturb to peacefulness of the land around you. “How many people know about this place?” Your mind couldn’t wrap the idea that no one knew else about this beautiful place yet there wasn’t a single person in sight except for Zuko in front of you.

“Just me.” And Zuko added with a sheepish smile, “and now you.” 

Your eyes widened, “You haven’t told anyone else about his place?” He shook his head before looking down at his lap as you asked your next question, slightly softer. “But why me?”

He cleared his throat, not really meeting your as he began to ramble , “I don’t really know… I know we don’t really know each other and have only met a week ago, and have only had a few conversations since, but…” he paused as if trying to find the words to express what he was feeling, “when I’m around you, a feel at peace.”

Your breath caught in your chest at his words, and when he finally looked back at you, eyes locking together, your heart seemed to stop beating.

At your frozen features, Zuko quickly looked away, a fierce blush blooming across his cheeks, and tried to explain himself.

“I, uh sorry… It’s just so easy to talk to you. And you are really comfortable to be around. And I’m usually not very trusting of others but around you, I couldn't keep my guard up if I even tried…” he trailed off, looking at you again, his eyes searching for any sign of your emotions as a response to his ramble.

Wordlessly, your response was to slowly grab his hands from his lap, cradling them in your own.

Not breaking eye contact with his own, you replied softly yet firmly. “Zuko… thank you so much for sharing this with me. And truly, it is an honor to bring peace and comfort to others. Especially you.”

He stared at your hands holding his own, the pad of your thumb ever so softly rubbing circles on back of his hand. The warmth admitting from his hands was soaking into yours. The corners of his lips cracked up into a soft grin, one of pure contentment and comfort. 

Your heart soured at the sight. Here in this place he appeared weightless, like all his troubles vanished within the clearing. His eyes shined a bit brighter, not dragged down by his past or the daily conflicts and battles he fought within himself or for his Nation. Here it was just him. Just you and him.

Your tone turned jokingly as you spoke, “Are you also saying you haven’t even taken your poor Uncle here to see this beauty yet?” 

Zuko let out a laugh as the air turned lighter around you. “While Uncle is amazing, he isn’t the best with keeping secrets. Once he knew about this place, half the capital would be swimming in that water.” 

You turned wistfully towards the lake, before asking Zuko slightly cheekily, “Do you think the water is warm enough to swim in?”

But before he could respond, you stood up quickly, kicking off your boots. After flashing a quick smile at Zuko, you bounded into the lake, fully clothed, yet splashing around joyfully.

Zuko began to laugh standing up as well. He cocked an eyebrow at you when you began to slow down, and wrapped your arms around yourself, while standing in waist deep water. “It’s cold, isn’t it?” he asked.

Refusing to admit it, you stop hugging yourself, “No… not at all!” You laughed again, before slyly cupping some water in your hands and began to splash water at him. 

In a quick flash of pure power, he created a wall of flames between him and the incoming water, the water quickly vaporizing against the bright orange flames. The fire casted a warm glow over the whole clearing, as the hiss of the water echoed out, along with his playful laughing.

You stood frozen in awe, staring at him as the flames immediately flickered out from his hands, the sudden burst of heat you felt on your face now gone.

“Woah” you said simply, still staring.

The smile fell from his face at your reaction, his eyebrows furrowed, now confused. “What’s wrong?” His voice was slightly worried.

Realizing how you looked, you began to go deeper into the lake, now freely swimming in the water before explaining. “I’ve never seen any fire bending like that.”

Zuko cocked his head to the side, still confused, “Why haven't you? You were born in the Fire Nation right? And you’re a fire bender yourself.”

“Yeah…” you replied slowly while Zuko stepped into the water, the cold temperature obviously not affecting him as he walked in without a shiver. He seemed to run hot even for a fire bender.

While you refused to show signs of being cold, your body betrayed you and was shivering deeply. Yet, you continued to tread water, trying to ignore the cold, “I’ve never learned anything more than small detailed movements of flame. And both my parents are non-benders so I’ve had no one to learn from.”

“Ah” he said, now understanding. At this point, he had now reached you and was swimming right across from you.

“What I want to know” you asked, “is how you aren’t cold in this water?!”

This earned you another laugh. You quickly realized you enjoyed hearing it.

“That I can attribute to my Uncle. With fire bending I use my breath to generate heat for myself, and this allows me to withstand cold temperatures.”

“That’s amazing” you exclaimed. “That really solidifies your Uncle being the wisest man I know!”

“You know…” Zuko said slowly, slightly inching towards you in the water, “I can teach you.”

“Really?!” You asked, your voice getting louder, excitement coursing through you at the prospect of learning fire bending techniques. And also possibly from the idea of spending more time with him.

“Of course” he smiled, happy at how excited you were, but began to frown at your shivering frame. “But umm, how about we get you out of the water before you freeze to death?”

“Yeah…” you said, finally giving in, and swimming to shore, Zuko right next to you.

As soon as you stepped out of the water, however, the breeze seemed to become ten times colder, you’re wet hair sticking to your skin, as goosebumps raised all over your body.

You let out a string of curses, causing Zuko to look at you in alarm, as you let out “Oh my god it’s freezing!” You were long past pretending it wasn’t. 

You glanced at him, he was still unaffected by the temperature, but he looked extremely… worried.

“I'm so sorry” he began, stepping closer to you, both of your clothes completely soaked and dripping on the damp sand. “I should have thought about how cold it was for others.”

While you weren’t really thinking about anything then how cold it was, you still saw the complete guilt written all over his face. He was blaming himself for the situation, and you couldn’t let that happen.

“Oh no it’s not your fault” you chuckled, teeth chattering, but still bringing a grin to your face, trying to alleviate his guilt, “I shouldn’t have been so thoughtless and ran in. Whoops.”

Zuko appeared conflicted, as if he was having an internal debate, before he began to speak slowly, hesitantly, “I could, umm, warm you up?”

“What?”

“I have a really high body temperature and, I could uh, hug you…?”

He said it so unconfidently, so meekly, you couldn’t help but giggle before opening your arms up widely, “Then what are you waiting for!?”

He smiled slightly then met you before wrapping his arms around you tightly.

The relief was immediate.

The warmth of his body soaked through your wet clothes, his arms and hands radiating across your lower back. The heat was so strong it seemed to reach into the depths of your body.

Your arms wrapped around his torso as well, the side of your face resting against his chest. He seemed to relax and even rested his chin on the top of your head.

You hummed in contentment, already the cold long forgotten and mumbled “Yeah this is nice” against his chest.

He chuckled lightly, the laugh vibrating through his chest into your ear.

For several moments, you two stayed like that. His warmth chasing all the shivers and goosebumps away, as your bodies stayed flush against each other, as you clung to him tightly, enjoying the heat immensely.

As you slowly pulled apart, you looked up at him, a grateful smile shining towards him in thanks.

His breath caught as he looked at you, both of you froze as your arms stayed around each other, chest to chest, bodies flush against each other, while your eyes locked on each other.

Slowly, ever so slowly, you slid a hand up to his face. Wordlessly, you cupped his cheek, your fingers close to the scarred flesh.

At your soft caress, Zuko leaned down, his lips inching towards yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut when your lips met, the gentle nature of the kiss melting your soul. His arms tightened around your lower back, arching your body closer to his, the desperation to be closer to you evident in his movements.

The kiss deepened as your fingers began to slide into his loose hair, nails slightly scraping his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Your knuckles weaving this the loose knots scattered around within black hair.

The air warmed even more around you as you clung to him, running your hands over his body, the shirt still damp yet warm. So warm.

His own hand caressed your neck, his fingertips dancing across the flesh, goosebumps now raising at the soft contact, not the cold.

The scent of him flooded your nose, the smell of campfire and peppermint wafting around you.

It ended too soon. Zuko pulled away, his lips slightly swollen and breathlessly looking at you in awe, as if you were his whole galaxy.

Your eyes were wide, heart beating rapidly, as you realized what just took place.

“You are amazing” Zuko said simply, as if that summed up everything. Explained everything.

Your lips curved into a grin, as your eyes trailed down to his lips, your thumb rubbing against his bottom lips gently. “So are you.”

He leaned down again, capturing your lips with his again for a quicker kiss, more of a peck but still enough to send your heart into overdrive.

Once more pulling away, Zuko grabbed hold of your hand, fingers weaving together. He began to lead you out of the clearing back onto the invisible path of the forest, your clothes still wet but only barely slowing you down. 

Zuko looked back at you, his breath catching just a bit at how brightly you were shining, the afterglow of the kiss still in affect. He asked, “I know a really good tea shop where we can get a change of clothes and a good cup of tea. That sound good?”

You smirked back at him, admiring the messy mop of hair from your own doing, “And I’m assuming the owner is a really sweet Uncle we both may know?”

“Why of course!” Zuko responded playfully, tightening his grip on your hand, before continuing to lead the way back.

***

Send an ask if you would like to request a part 5!

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[andyet-here-we-are]

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 1

For @wolfgeralt as a little ‘thank you’ for his stunning art -which I really adore, you can see it here: (x)

and for @hecky-heckicravedeath (x) who gave me inspiration for this fanfiction. Also Thanks @3tothe1 for being my beta. (You’re such a sweetheart, and I love you so much)

Anyway,  I hope you like it, my dear Witchlings! 💛

I present you: NURSE GERALT!  

Chapter 1 Word Count: 2461

ao3: (x) 

Chapter 2 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 3 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 4 Tumblr Link: (x)

When Geralt arrives for his shift, still feeling exhausted from yesterday, he has no idea what’s waiting for him at the hospital. His days are never too ordinary because you never know what you’ll come across.

That’s a part of being a nurse.

But he could never think that one of the not-so-famous musicians, his daughter, Ciri adores, was going to have a terrible traffic accident—which somehow isn’t on the news—and end up in the hospital he works at.

He already knows his name since Ciri just can’t stop talking about how nice he is and how he sounds like an angel. To the point where sometimes Geralt wants to say “Okay he is wonderful, so kind and lovely and you really love him, I get it. Can you please just keep eating your pasta? Yes Ciri, yes, I know that pasta is his favorite food, you say that every time we’re having pasta. ”

Geralt isn’t there for his intake, apparently, the accident happened last night, and the musician was badly injured.

Jaskier has a ruptured spleen that caused internal hemorrhaging, which the doctors were able to repair. He also has a mild concussion, a couple of broken ribs, along with some cuts and a broken leg which he is probably going to need another surgery for.

Since the other nurse who was responsible for Jaskier last night,  is having some family issues and has to take his annual leave, Jaskier is in Geralt’s care now, they let Geralt know.

When Geralt is home, Ciri starts talking about how Jaskier hadn’t posted anything in two days, and how worried she is since Jaskier had promised them a new song, “He never breaks his promises,” she says.

Geralt thinks that keeping the fact that the young man was in a traffic accident to himself is a better idea.

***

Three days later, when Geralt cracks open the door to Jaskier’s room, the man still sounds asleep, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath he takes as the morphine keeps dripping into his system. It’s enough to keep him subdued, if not completely pain-free.

He checks his IV, and takes a few notes onto his clipboard, right before the musician comes to, his eyelids fluttering.

And damn if he hasn’t got the most breathtaking eyes he has ever seen in his whole life. Even when they lack the spark Geralt is sure they normally hold in them.

Jaskier is confused, of course. So he tells him about what has happened and clears his throat before speaking.

“Mr. Pankratz, I need to take your vitals and then give you some medicines for the pain, may I have your arm?”

“Hell you can, might as well take my poor heart that seems to be beating for—”  Jaskier flirts and coughs before he has the chance to finish, his voice is low and hoarse from lack of use.

Geralt makes no comments, and fills a cup of water for him instead, helping him to drink it. He is surprised by the musician’s flattering words, and he is also glad that he is good at keeping a neutral expression on his face.  

“…you.” He finishes. “Well, I would normally use the ‘am I dead and in Heaven?’ cliché, but, see,” Jaskier keeps talking after sipping some water “I’m in too much pain to think that I’m in heaven. You sure look like a sexy angel or something though.  Ohoho, are you gonna give me a sponge bath, too? Just wondering. If so, I’m totally down for it. Just so you know.”

Geralt can’t help but snort at that a bit, “Do you always talk that much?”

“Maybe it’s you who doesn’t talk enough, you ever considered that?” Jaskier teases, and then suddenly his whole playful expression changes like he remembered that he had left his cat on the stone, and he frowns to himself, “Oh God, three days you said? Shitshitshit,” he drops his head back onto his pillows in a way too dramatic manner, covering his eyes with one hand “I had promised them a new song,” the nurse hears him mumbling “I am such an idiot.”

Jaskier truly seems so disappointed in himself that Geralt feels the need of comforting him. The man had a traffic accident, for crying out loud!

And yet, he is concerned for his fans because he couldn’t keep his promise, rather than being worried for himself.

Not even an hour has passed since he had the chance to talk to the man, but he already can see why Ciri likes this guy that much.

“It’s not your fault that some idiot decided that running a red light and colliding with your car was a good idea,” Geralt says “don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Jaskier still seems disappointed, but he mumbles a silent 'thank you’ before he says “ you may be right, but I promised them.”

***

Days go like this: Jaskier keeps flirting with him every time Geralt steps into his room to check on him and give him his medicines. Geralt never flirts back because of obvious reasons, but he never tells him to stop either, even though he does judge him with his eyes now and then.

The moments Geralt can spend with the man is the most he feels happy at work.

He can’t even deny that at this point.

Ciri keeps asking him why he looks happier nowadays, and why he suddenly became clumsy all of a sudden because he loses his focus easily.

“Who is the reason behind your smile? I gotta know! C’mon, it’s not fair! Don’t leave me hanging like this!”  She insists, being the stubborn girl she is, and after a second she grins like cheshire cat “You’ve finally met someone special?”

“…I might have, pumpkin”  is his answer. “I might have.”

***

He doesn’t know why, but Geralt doesn’t like Thursdays. Well, it’s probably because everything bad has ever happened to him seemed to happen on Thursdays, usually.

And sadly, this Thursday is no exception.

Hank, a seventy years old man who has been here for more than a month, and who has been very ill passes away. Who he had become really close with and really cared about.

Jaskier catches his change of mood when he goes to check on him and simply says, “Talk to me. I mean, you don’t have to. But you look like you could use a friend. And I’m so bored of watching television anyway.”

So Geralt talks to him.

He talks about Hank, about how wise he was. He talks about how he has been working here for years but how it still affects him so much when someone passes away. How he doesn’t suppose to feel a connection with his patients, how terrible of a nurse that makes him.

“That makes you human, not a terrible nurse.” Jaskier assures him, his voice as gentle as always. “Believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Geralt isn’t sure when Jaskier’s hand finds his hand as they talk, and when his dainty looking, long fingers link with his; but the intimate gesture feels so natural, so right that he just lets him.

***

Jaskier has surgery for his right leg the next day, and it’s not the first time that Geralt hears his patients saying the most ridiculous things after their surgery, thanks to the sedation.

But oh boy, if Jaskier doesn’t take it to a whole new level.

“Maaarry meee, my dear nurse!” the musician yells, “we could make the most adorable babies together! One of them would have my voice, one of them would have your weirdly sexy brooding or something. One of them would have my…. my tongue?  Or eyes? Cheeks! Yes, cheeks. And the other would have your lips while the other would have your… DIMPLE! I love that cute dimple you have on your jaw! ”

Geralt laughs, because how can he not?

“That’s biologically impossible.” the nurse says. “Also how many kids you have in mind? That was awfully a lot.”

“Hmm, let’s see. Marie, Duchess,” Jaskier starts to count with his fingers, and he looks so damn adorable that Geralt finds it extremely hard to not just reach out and ruffle his hair. “Thomas O'Malley, Toulouse, and Berlioz. So, six!”

“It’s five, actually,” Geralt tilts his head to the side slightly and corrects him with a fond, little smile. “So… you’re planning to name your kids after The Aristocats?”

“Our kids, mind you. And I’m not straight, love. You can’t expect me to do the math, I don’t make the rules.”

Love.

He just called Geralt ‘love’

“He probably calls ‘love’ everyone,” the nurse reminds himself and swallows, not being able to focus on what Jaskier says for a minute or so. “You’re no special.”

But the way Jaskier utters that one word, makes him feel like he is lying to himself.

When he can finally focus on what he is saying,  Jaskier is still talking about the same topic.

“…and you should be grateful that I’m not planning to name them after Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! If we’re gonna have more than six, I’m totally doing that though.”

“Why Mr. Pankratz, we’re not even married yet. But I already don’t have a say in anything, it seems.” Geralt can’t help but tease with the young man in return.

Jaskier waves one hand weakly: “Don’t take this as my marriage proposal though, I’m better than that. If I were to propose to you I would do that in the most wonderful way. Roses, candles, and everything. Even fireworks.”

Geralt remains silent, so Jaskier talks again: “And ya know, joking aside, actually we couldn’t name them unless we adopted them when they were babies.”

“Why do you want so many kids?” the nurse wonders, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, growing up in a foster care system will do that to you,” Jaskier lets out a loud and somehow cute yawn.

Geralt knows that he wasn’t even supposed to ask that, and he shouldn’t even listen to Jaskier rambling about his life, which he won’t even remember after the sedative effect wears off.

But he can’t suppress his need of knowing more about him.

He just can’t.

“Wanna adopt as many kids as I can, so I can provide ’em a life filled full of love and everything they deserve. All the beautiful things in the universe. All the things I couldn’t have when I was a kid.” Jaskier admits, and his words make Geralt’s heart clench in his chest.

At that moment, Geralt is sure that he is falling so hard for the musician.

Maybe he already did.

“Don’t think that I’m not gonna name our dogs after them though. Or cats.” Jaskier mumbles. He looks like he is just two seconds away from falling into a deep sleep.

Right when he moves to leave, Jaskier grabs his hand as he softly, sweetly whispers, “Geralt, don’t leave me.” And he sounds so vulnerable, so weak that the nurse’s heart skips a beat in his chest.

Geralt would love to say that he doesn’t leave all night, but he has other patients he needs to check on, so he leaves.

But not before staying for five minutes as he holds the musician’s hand, and watches him fall asleep. Nobody needs to know, right?

***

The next day, Jaskier doesn’t remember most of the things he had said last night, but somehow he remembers that Geralt had stayed for a while.

That day, feeling guilty about yesterday, Geralt talks about his life.

“It’s only fair,” he thinks.

He talks about Ciri, and he lets the musician know how crazy his daughter is about him. That makes Jaskier smile at him warmly, but then again, his smile is always like this.

Warmer than the sun on a hot summer day.

Blushing, Jaskier hesitantly says that he would love to meet her. His big, baby blue eyes seem to be searching for something in Geralt’s eyes.

And Geralt understands that he finds whatever he was searching for when Geralt nods and says: “We would love that, too.”

***

“Look! Jaskier finally posted something!” Ciri says one morning while they are having breakfast, well, more like Ciri is having breakfast, and Geralt is just busy with his coffee since he is in a hurry.

“Hmm?”

“Wait, was this an ‘I’m Actually Curious About What You Have To Say’ type of ‘hmm’? Because it definitely didn’t sound like your usual ‘I Don’t Care’ type of ‘hmm’. Nice! That might be the first time you actually seem curious about what I have to say about him.” Ciri smiles, and lets out a sad, little “Oh.” After reading whatever Jaskier had posted.

“He says that he is having some minor health issues…”

Geralt huffs at that.

‘Minor health issues’

If what he had gone through is “minor” to Jaskier, Geralt doesn’t even want to imagine what “major health issues”  mean in his dictionary.

But he is sure that the only reason why the musician says “minor” is because he doesn’t want to worry his fans.

“‘I am in good hands though—I mean it, really really good hands—so no need to worry. Love you all, xoxo’ Hmm… I hope it’s nothing serious.”

The nurse looks at his daughter’s phone screen and the excessive amount of winking face emojis after ‘really really good hands’ part catches his attention.

He tries to hide his smile behind his black coffee mug.

And luckily, he succeeds.

***

A few days later, it’s time for Jaskier to be discharged from the hospital. And Geralt feels a bit sad about it, to be honest. Because he is already used to having the young man around.

To his never-ending flirting and jokes, to his smile, to his everything.

But the good thing is, that means that he will be no longer his patient.

Jaskier gives him his number before he leaves, and tells Geralt to call him whenever he is free.

“I’m totally getting into another accident and make sure they bring me here if you don’t call, Mr. Handsome Nurse,” the musician jokes in a low voice.

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Geralt smiles. “You can be sure that I’ll call, Jaskier. And we can even have some pasta maybe.”

It’s the first time that Geralt calls him by his first name, and the nurse can see how the other man’s smile widens when he does that, eyes sparkling.

“Wow. Now I have no doubt about how much Ciri talks about me,“ scratching the back of his head, Jaskier chuckles shyly, and it’s music to his ears. Ciri is right. He does sound like an angel.

"Till we meet again, Geralt. Till we meet again.”

[arrow-guy]

Broken Flock (9/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: HELLO, WE HAVE REACHED THE END OF THE ANGST TRAIN, TIME TO DISEMBARK. There will be mentions of Sad Times later on down the road, but as of the last third of this chapter, we’re headed to that happy ending I promised last chapter. Anyway, please enjoy!

Page dividers @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mentions of needles/IVs

Part 8

“We’re certain she’s in there,” Bucky says. “And we need to move now if we’re gonna get her out.”

Steve nods. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“You, Sam, and Nat will focus on the goons and finding whoever’s in charge,” Clint explains. “Bucky and I are going to find (Y/N). We think she’s in the barn, but we can’t go in through the side unless we want the whole thing to come down on top of her.”

“When do we move?” Sam asks.

“As soon as possible. Now, if we can.”

“Then let’s do it,” Steve says.

Bucky pauses. “Really? What about Ross and his bullshit accords?”

“Fuck the Accords,” Steve says. “(Y/N) is our family, and we’re going to do whatever it takes right now to save her. I’m tired of trying to work around his little roadblocks. These bastards wormed their way through his cracks, and we’re going to make sure they pay for what they’ve done.”

“Alright.” Bucky nods. “Then we act now, before they can do anything to prepare for us.”

“Move fast, hit ‘em hard.” Steve nods once. “Understood.”

“Alright.” Clint looks around at the group. “Let’s do this.”

“No one is coming for you.”

“Okay,” I say simply.

My answer is rewarded with a slap across my face and I just let my head fall forward. My chin hits my chest and my eyes close of their own accord. I want nothing more than to curl into a ball and sleep, but the chains around my wrists keep me held up against the wall like some kind of bastardized crucifix.

“You’re ours,” the Doctor declares. She paces in front of me, but I can’t bring myself to look at her. “I will complete my research, and you’re going to help me do it.”

She slaps me again when I don’t say anything. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore. She didn’t want me to fight back when she initially captured me, but was intrigued when I did the day before. When I talk back, she hits me. When I don’t react at all, she hits me. There’s no winning with this woman.

My legs begin to give out and the chains around my wrists start to dig in when they’re forced to hold up more weight. I wince and do what I can to keep my feet underneath my body, but I barely have the energy to lift my head.

Someone rushes into the barn and the Doctor stops pacing. They rattle off something that sounds urgent, that needs the Doctor’s immediate attention, but I can’t seem to focus on their words. She shifts back towards me momentarily and I turn my face away from her and squeeze my eyes shut. She makes a frustrated noise before hurrying out into the hallway, grunt in tow.

I give myself a moment to breathe before I try to stand at my full height. My legs shake, but I have just enough time to get a firm grip on the chains and wrap them around my hands once. With just that small adjustment, I can support myself better, even if I can’t fully stand, and the cuffs don’t dig into my wrists the way they did before.

There’s a shout from the hallway, followed by muffled thuds and groans. A herd of thugs thunder past the door. One voice stands out against the rest of the noise, barking out orders, only to be cut off by a distant explosion. A gun fires and I flinch.

Steve, Natasha, and Sam sneak into the main building, careful to not draw attention to themselves. Clint and Bucky don’t waste time with any kind of subtlety.

Clint blasts a hole into the side of the main building with an explosive arrow and Bucky moves through the rubble before the smoke clears. As soon as Clint joins Bucky, they're surrounded by goons. Bucky makes a mental note of the lack of identifying patches on their uniforms before he smacks one of them with the stock of his rifle and throws another into the wall. The man leaves a dent in the plaster and falls to the linoleum in a heap.

Clint takes down large clumps of men with net and putty arrows at the end of the hall opposite their destination. When he's finished, he joins Bucky in mowing through the guards blocking the way to the barn. They're not particularly careful as they go, not paying much attention to the force they use. They're more concerned with getting to (Y/N) than they are with the health of the people who kidnapped her.

They work quickly and methodically until no one is left standing. Clint signals to Bucky when he finds an open door, right about where they initially guessed the barn would be. They freeze as soon as they step through the door.

(Y/N) is strung up by her arms, barely able to keep herself standing. Clint cautiously approaches and finds her face turned away from them, her eyes squeezed shut. He glances back at Bucky, who looks like he wants to throw up, and his stomach clenches. He takes another step towards (Y/N).

“(Y/N),” he says softly. “Open your eyes.”

“Clint?” she croaks.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me. Bucky’s here too.”

Her eyes flutter open and she looks around the barn. Her grip on the chains tightens when she sees her boys. She shakes her head and presses her back against the wall.

“You’re not really here,” she whispers.

“We are,” he says. “I promise we are.”

Clint reaches out and brushes away the tear that’s rolled down her cheek. (Y/N) doesn’t flinch away from his touch like he thought she would. Instead, she presses her cheek to his hand and her bottom lip begins to tremble.

Clint motions for Bucky to come closer, and he slowly approaches, scared that he’ll spook (Y/N) if he’s too loud.

“We’re gonna get you outta here,” Bucky says softly.

He crouches down and breaks the chains at her ankles so that Clint can pick her up and relieve the stress on her wrists. Bucky then snaps the chains on both wrists and her arms fall around Clint’s neck. Bucky reaches up and ghosts his fingertips over her cheek and she blinks. They watch as she slowly realizes that they really have come for her and her face crumples. She covers her mouth with her and as she begins to cry and she presses her forehead to Clint’s chest.

“Come on.” Bucky turns to the door and Clint follows. “We’re leaving.”

“What about Steve, Sam, and Nat?”

“They can catch up.”

“They’re here?” (Y/N) asks. The scratchiness of her voice breaks Clint’s heart.

“Yeah, they helped us find you,” Clint explains.

"Oh." She takes a shaky breath and reaches out to Bucky. "Thank you."

Bucky takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "Nothing to thank us for. We should've been here sooner."

Her head falls back to Clint's chest and all three of them bundle out to the hallway.

Leaving the facility is easy compared to getting in. Every single man they took out on the way in is still in a heap on the floor as they move through the hallway. Clint's arms tighten around (Y/N) as they near their exit point. As soon as they're clear, Clint and Bucky sprint back to the quinjet.

They slow as they reach the line of trees that hide the jet from sight. Bucky lifts his rifle and steps into the brush first. When he knows the coast is clear, he signals for Clint to follow. They lift the ramp as soon as they’re inside. Clint takes a seat with (Y/N) in his lap. He looks up when Bucky makes a sound akin to a growl and finds him with a knife in his hand.

“Bucky?”

“They put belts around her wings,” Bucky grinds out. He kneels at Clint’s feet and pulls one of the straps away from her feathers. She whimpers. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but I gotta get these off.”

(Y/N) just nods and presses her face to Clint’s chest. She presses her fist to her mouth to muffle her noises of discomfort as Bucky saws through the leather. As soon as he tosses the third and final strap to the side, Bucky takes a seat beside Clint and (Y/N) lets her head fall to his shoulder. He places his hand on the back of her neck and kisses the top of her head before tracing over her jaw with his thumb.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he murmurs.

She just shakes her head and loops her arm around his. “S’fine. Kind of my fault.”

“None of this is your fault,” Clint says. “You should’ve been home, safe.”

“But now I’m safe with you.” She grabs Clint’s hand and squeezes gently. “I knew you’d find me.”

Clint and Bucky look at each over her head. Bucky lets out a shaky breath and Clint nods, confirming that he feels the same. Relieved to have her back, but devastated seeing what she’s gone through.

Bucky’s earpiece crackles to life and he presses his finger to, saying, “What is it?”

“Where are you?”

“We’re on the jet. We found (Y/N) and got out of there.”

“Is she alright?” Steve asks.

“She’s injured and exhausted,” Bucky says. He kisses her forehead and she shifts against him. “But she’s alive.”

“Good. We’re just about finished here. Natasha and I are gonna stay behind and wait for reinforcements. We’ll join you upstate once we’ve rounded everyone up.”

“What about Sam?”

“He’ll be flying back with you.” Steve pauses and Bucky hears a heavy thud. “Did you really have to throw them into walls?”

“They were in our way.”

Steve sighs. “Sam’s on his way to meet you. I’m glad she’s safe.”

“Thanks for your help.”

“We’ll see you at the compound.”

The line goes dead and Bucky pockets the earpiece. He relays everything to Clint who simply nods.

By the time Sam makes it back to the quinjet, (Y/N) has fallen asleep and Bucky and Clint are finally starting to relax. They begin to doze as the jet rumbles to life.

I dozed off, somehow. My entire body is sore, and I can’t find the energy to move, but the quiet beeping edging into my consciousness is telling me to wake up. In spite of this, it still takes me several minutes to force my eyes open.

When I manage to crack open one eye, I find that the room is dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner. There’s a couch next to the lamp where Clint and Bucky are fast asleep. Clint has Bucky tucked under his arm and his head is tipped back against the wall as he snores softly. Bucky, with his head on Clint’s chest, has folded his arms and is scowling in his sleep.

Watching the two of them sleep, a feeling of peace washes through me. Clint shifts in his sleep and Bucky presses closer to his side and I smile. I wish I could be over there with them, but just being in the same room is enough for me right now.

I pull the thin blanket up, over my shoulders and hug my arms to my chest, careful to avoid the IV tube. The sounds of their deep, steady breathing lulls me back to sleep.

I wake again later, feeling significantly better than I had before. My back still aches, but I suspect it will for a while due to the abuse my wings took and the time that they were strapped down.

I stretch my arms out in front of me and then scrub my hands over my face.

With my eyes still closed I call out, “Bucky?”

Receiving no answer, I open my eyes and glance around the room, only to find it empty. The lamp in the corner is still the only light on in the room, and my eyes adjust easily. I sigh and slowly sit up. I can’t straighten my back fully yet, but leaning forward slightly allows me to extend my wings and stretch out my back. I stretch my wings out to their full length and I’m surprised when there’s no tug on my feathers.

I wrap my right wing around and am shocked to see that the tar that had covered the primary feathers is gone. I reach around to the left side and find nothing but soft feathers. Even better than clean feathers, none of them are missing. I remember when the Doctor had suggested trimming the tar from my feathers and knowing that wasn’t ultimately necessary almost reduces me to tears.

The sound of footsteps approaching in the hallway makes me freeze. I peek around my wing and wait.

“(Y/N)?” Bucky stands in the doorway, looking like he’s about to drop the phone in his hand. I shift towards the edge of the bed and he darts into the room. “Don’t move, you’re still hurt.”

I nod, but still turn myself to face him and fold my legs underneath myself. He slowly approaches, almost as if he’s worried about spooking me. He stops just short of the bed, and my fingers twitch with the need to have him just a little closer. Close enough to touch. To hold his hand. I reach out to him and curl my fingers into the hem of his shirt and tug him slightly closer. I hesitate a moment before taking his hand. Bucky readily weaves his fingers with mine and lifts our linked hands to kiss my knuckles.

“Please stay with me,” I whisper.

“Of course I will,” he says. He carefully takes my face in his hands and presses a tender kiss to my forehead. He pulls away and swipes his thumb over my cheek. “Of course I will, sweetheart.”

He pulls up a chair and sits beside the bed. He tells me to leave the IV alone and I laugh.

“I haven’t touched it, Buck.”

“Good. You need those fluids.”

“I know.” I squeeze his hands. A shadow appears in the doorway and I glance up and smile. “Clint.”

“You’re awake!” He drags a chair across the room with him and plants himself next to Bucky, only to immediately stand up again. “I wanna hug you so bad.”

I glance between Clint and Bucky, Bucky smiles and nods. I push myself up on my knees and wrap my arms around Clint’s shoulders. His arms circle around my middle and he presses his nose to my shoulder.

“I missed you so much,” I murmur.

“We missed you too,” he says. “We were so worried. I’m sorry it took us so long.”

“You found me.” I comb my fingers through his hair. “Just like I knew you would.”

“You left a note,” Bucky wraps his arms around Clint and I. “We knew you wouldn’t run off again.”

“Never.” I pull away to look at them. “Never again. You’re stuck with me.”

-----------

Part 10

So, how about that happy ending? That’s not the end of it, I promise, but it’s a good start. No more hurting anyone from now on, I promise.

That being said, I’d love to hear about your reactions! I always like knowing what you guys thought, so please comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask!

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwihtasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @breezy1415, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​

This fic:

@avengerscompound​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​, @shirukitsune​, @keenmarvellover​, @katebarton15

[apocryphalfemme]

Designatory Date Night

Well, I lied.  I finally played Mass Effect: Andromeda a week or so back and I’m here to report that I love Vetra Nyx so completely that I was inspired to write some simply brain-rotting fluff.  (An entire two years ahead of schedule, I know!)  Und so, I give you Designatory Date Night.  Read it below the cut, or on AO3.

Love,

Clithroe

““Pathfinder?”

“Yeah, SAM?”

“If I may ask, what is it you’re thinking of doing?”

“I’m thinking...”  As she recalled her earlier train of thought, Ryder’s face lit up.  “I’m thinking I’ve got an idea for the best date night, ever.””

Or

Ryder leverages the privileges of her job to show Vetra a good time.

“Anwar, what the hell am I looking at?”

“It appears to be a... a solar system, Pathfinder,” Suvi murmured.  “The solar system, in fact.  I believe we’ve found Avaarus.”  Ryder drummed her fingers against her console, brimming with nervous anticipation. 

“But it’s in the middle of nowhere.  We’re not even in Heleus space anymore, right Kallo?” she asked.

“Confirmed, Pathfinder.  We’re in deep space, just a ways outside of home.  I should mention that the next known celestial cluster is the Boone Traverse and we’re not getting anywhere near there without a mass relay,” Kallo said.  “Whatever this is, it’s a lone entity.”

“So... what?” Ryder breathed, disbelieving.  “Heleus just lost an entire star and a handful of planets?  Did it wander off when the angara weren’t looking or something?” 

“Ryder,” Suvi piped up. “It’s possible that what we’re seeing here is one of the more dramatic effects of the Scourge.  If Avaarus really was originally located where angaran maps say, then the system may have been wholly ejected from the cluster as the Scourge spread.”  Their pilot chirped an incredulous noise.

“Is that even possible?”

“Come on Kallo, two whole years in Andromeda and you’re still asking questions like that?” Suvi teased.  Kallo cut back with something sarcastic, but Ryder wasn’t listening; her attention had been caught by what was orbiting their runaway star.

“Okay, no, that can’t be right.  Avaarus is supposed to have four orbiting bodies.  That,” she pointed, “is at least seven.”  That got their attention.  Kallo and Suvi’s conversation petered out as they each ran their own, individual counts of this bizarre, seemingly truant system.  Kallo was first to break the silence.

“With eyes alone, I’m actually counting nine, Pathfinder”

“I think I’m seeing thirteen,” Suvi reported.  SAM’s vox crackled to life over the bridge speakers, only to prove them all wrong.

“Pathfinder, there are at least sixteen distinguishable celestial bodies orbiting this star.”  Kallo gaped, shocked into silence.  Suvi giggled, a tad manic.  Ryder swore.

“Holy shit.  SAM, what… are they?  Where did they come from?”

“The majority appear to be planets in varying states of compositional decay, Pathfinder.  Preliminary scans indicate that many may have once been capable of bearing life.  Cross-referencing with what remains of old angaran star charts and the inferable ejection path of the star Avaarus, I believe it is possible that we have discovered what happened to several planets that the angara report as having mysteriously disappeared over the last several centuries.”

“Holy shit,” Ryder swore again, for good measure.  “So if this really is Avaarus… I guess our friend here decided it wasn’t going out alone, huh?  Stole a few planets on the way out the door.”

“Ryder, the implications of this are incredible,” Suvi babbled, ecstatic.  “We knew the Scourge was powerful, but to learn that it can generate gravitational effects significant enough to move entire stars… forget terraforming, this is stellaforming!”

“Tann’s going to have an aneurysm,” Ryder chuckled.

“Don’t forget why we’re here, guys.  We’ve still got a job to do,” Kallo said, gently reminding them of their purpose in hunting down this most elusive system.  

“Right, yes.”  Ryder ran a hand through her hair before tapping her mic.  “Jaal, can you come up to the bridge?  I think we may have found what we’ve been looking for.”  Their resident angaran’s voice crackled immediately back.

“Oh, really now?  Of course!  On my way, Ryder.”

“God, it isn’t half pretty, is it?” murmured Suvi, completely ignoring her instruments panel in favor of staring at the solar system projected before them with a slightly glazed look.  

Ryder had to admit that her science officer’s assessment was dead on: Avaarus was a gorgeous system and that was putting it lightly.  Around the titanic, vividly blue-white star, sharply violet shades of gas spiraled out in a tight corkscrew.  At the edge of the heliosphere, thousands upon tens of thousands of asteroids spun in a truly magnificent debris disk.  All throughout, a plethora of mostly ringed planets hung suspended in the void, bathed in astral gases, caught in the midst of their aeons-long cosmic dance.  It was a perfect celestial tableau.  The fact that Ryder had seen dozens of equally stunning systems did nothing to detract from the moment; this sort of thing was enough to steal the breath from your lungs and, for her, it still did, every time.

Vetra would love this, she thought.  Before that particular idea could go anywhere, however, the quiet reverie they had fallen into was interrupted by the opening whoosh of the bridge doors.

“Alright Ryder, show me what you’ve got!” Jaal called cheerily, sauntering up to them.  Ryder turned and grinned.

“Hey, Jaal.  Allow me to present, for your consideration... the long-lost Avaarus system!” she said, spinning back to fling her arms wide.  “Or at least, we think it is.”  Jaal laughed.

“It’s a start, to be certain.  Any luck in finding the colony?”

“Anj Guhloan was supposedly on the fourth planet from Avaarus, right?”

“Correct.”  Ryder hummed an acknowledgement and cast a critical eye upon the projection.

“Right, then.  SAM, scan everything that could be big enough for an angaran settlement to hide on.  With all the crap this star picked up on the way out, who knows if Avaarus IV is still where it should be.”  Only after the merest second of delay, her AI chirped his response.

“Done.  I have identified what may be the remains of an angaran satellite in orbit around the fifth planet.”

“Bingo.  Kallo, I know this place is a minefield, but can you get us in closer?”

“Oh, please,” Kallo scoffed.  “I could fly through this blindfolded.”

“As entertaining as that sounds, I’d rather not be on the ship while you attempted it,” Jaal protested.  Kallo chuckled to himself.

“Have it your way.  Approach vector clear, Pathfinder; taking us in.”  The ever-present hum of the drive core pitched up a little as Kallo wove through the debris disk and into the core of the heliosphere.  Ryder had to hand it to him: while he could be a little over-sure at times, he was, inarguably, a pilot of sterling quality.  The Tempest progressed at a healthy pace through a chunk of space so dense with detritus that a lesser navigator would have been reduced to crawl.  

It was only a few short minutes before they were close enough to the planet in question for Suvi to start taking more detailed scans.  Ryder was less than thrilled to see her science officer’s face falling as she pored over her gathered readings.

“That’s not a happy expression, Anwar.  What are you getting?”  Suvi muttered something unintelligible and tapped her mic to ping their AI.

“SAM, can you get me a scan of the star, please?”

“Of course, Ms. Anwar.”  As her eyes flicked across the new influx of data, Suvi spat something foul.

“Keep us in the loop, Suvi, what have you got?” Ryder asked.

“Bad news, I’m afraid.”  Suvi twisted in her seat to face them.  “It looks like the star Avaarus is well on its way to becoming a superluminous supernova; this system’s going to go off like a firecracker sometime in the next couple centuries.  Avaarus IV - or, Avaarus V now, I guess - if it ever really was Anj Guhloan, has been a molten, liquid hunk of rock for a long time now.  I’m sorry, guys.  The planet’s cooked.”  A hand pressed to her forehead, Ryder sighed.

“Damn.  I’m sorry, Jaal.  That is not the news I wanted to give the angara.”  She was surprised when Jaal smiled at her, apparently far less distraught than she had expected.

“Do not worry, my friend.  The angara, myself included, have accepted that, between the Scourge, the kett, and our own occasional stupidity, many of the settlements that once were are now undoubtedly gone.  Though I am disappointed the lost colony of Anj Guhloan was not waiting for us, I am thankful to have borne witness to its fate.  The angara who lived here will not be forgotten, for we now know what happened to them.”  Ryder smiled wistfully back.

“Well, I’m glad we could at least give you that.  SAM, send a report to Aya and update the Initiative’s maps.”  Ryder rolled her neck, eliciting a disconcerting crack in the process.  She groaned.  “And on that note, I think we’re done for the day.  Kallo, Suvi, go eat something and get some sleep.  And…” she trailed off as she checked her omnitool.  “Oh my god, guys, tell me when we’ve been going for longer than eight hours!”  Kallo and Suvi, now standing and working out their own muscular kinks, looked at her in surprise.

“I, uh… I didn’t notice, Pathfinder,” Kallo murmured.

“How long have we…?” Suvi asked.

“I believe you three have been up here flying for more than ten hours, actually.  Last I checked, that is,” Jaal said, grinning.  Head cradled in her hands, Ryder heaved another groan, this one infinitely more weary than the last.

“Then remind me instead to set an alarm next time, or something.  Alright, clear the bridge you lot, I’m going to get enough hell as it is from Lexi about overworking you.”

“Oh, come on, Ryder,” Kallo argued.  

Suvi cut over him, to say: “This is what we signed up for!”  Ryder pointed at the door, but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face.

“Out, now!  Food and then bed; we can poke around the system in more detail tomorrow.  Jaal, make sure they get some of that roast Drack made yesterday down their throats?”

“You’ve got it, Ryder.”  Saint that he was, Jaal gently but firmly shepherded her protesting bridge crew out and down to the galley.  The door slid shut behind them, leaving the Pathfinder by herself.  

Sometimes, you don’t realize how tired you are until you’ve a second to yourself; the newfound silence afforded Ryder both a blissful moment of recuperation and the recognition of the fact that she was, indeed, knackered.  She stretched her arms - damn, if she wasn’t stiff - and turned her attention back to the now rediscovered Avaarus system.  Exhausted as she was, she didn’t quite want to leave it yet, especially for something so trivial as sleep.  (Yes, she was entirely a hypocrite).  There was something equal parts forlorn and magical about watching the silver-blue star floating alone in the void; so far away from everything.  And yet, as if in defiance of its exile, Avaarus burned all the more beautiful.  Though, it wasn’t really alone, was it?  It had its stolen planets to comfort it through the coming explosion.  In much the same way as the ultimate fate of Anj Guhloan was beheld by Jaal, so too would the fate of Avaarus be beheld by its stolen audience.  It was a strangely reassuring thought.  As she gazed at the plethora of elliptical orbiters, a thought occurred to her.

“Hey, SAM.”

“Yes, Ryder?”

“What’s the plan for these planets?”

“Initiative protocol dictates that they be scanned, designated, and marked on Initiative maps.  Planets of note - those that could be potentially habitable or those with valuable resources - will be highlighted and the relevant officials made aware of their existence.  In the case of these particular planets, considering they are molten slag bar none and located a significant distance from the Heleus cluster, it is unlikely the Initiative will take any interest beyond the academic.  There may be some investigation into the stellaforming effects of the Scourge, as Ms. Anwar puts is it, but that is where it will likely end.”

“So this is as far as things go for them, huh?  At least, as far as we’re concerned?”

“That is correct, Pathfinder.  The Initiative has more immediate concerns.”

“That’s kind of sad.  Something so beautiful deserves a bit more attention than... wait, SAM, what exactly are these planets being designated?”

“I have tagged the orbiting bodies, in order, as H-977, H-978, H-979a, H-979b, H-.”  Before he could get too far into his alphanumeric monologue, Ryder cut him off.

“Okay, right, thanks SAM.”  Chewing at the inside of her cheek, she stared off into space, thoughtful.

“Pathfinder?”

“Yeah, SAM?”

“If I may ask, what is it you’re thinking of doing?”

“I’m thinking...”  As she recalled her earlier train of thought, Ryder’s face lit up.  “I’m thinking I’ve got an idea for the best date night, ever.”

“Ah.  I believe I understand.  Would you like me to ask Ms. Nyx to come up to the bridge?”

“Nah, I’ll go grab her.”  Ryder turned around and made for the door, but was arrested in her escape by SAM once more.

“Have fun, Ryder.”  Ryder beamed.

“Thanks, buddy.”  

With a hop, skip, and a slap to the face to keep herself awake, Ryder was away.  She didn’t bother with the ladder to the lower deck - as she jogged onto the clear plex of the catwalk, she unceremoniously jumped off the side to land on the ground below.  A combination of her biotics and sleep deprivation was enough to negate the jarring impact entirely and in the span of a heartbeat, she was off down the hall.  As she hustled past the med bay, she caught at the very edge of her vision Lexi’s head poking out to investigate the noise.

“Ryder, what on earth did you just-.”

“No time, doc!  Everything’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Ryder, you know full well that your telling me not to worry about something only ever makes me worry more!”  But Ryder was gone and heading into the cargo bay before Lexi could get too far into giving a proper scolding.  Lucky for her, it looked like just about everyone else was asleep - no one was around to see her eager jog over to what had become Vetra’s office.  

Slowing to a stop, Ryder took a moment to catch her breath.  She didn’t want to look excessively keen - though in a committed relationship she and Vetra may have been, she still had a calm and collected reputation to maintain.  It didn’t matter that Vetra knew it all to be, by and large, a conscious affect: it was the principle of the thing.  The Pathfinder was always composed - even in the face of giddying affection.  Once she had herself together, Ryder headed in.  The door slid open to reveal Vetra hunched over a mess of crates.  She was, quite impressively, stacking them with just the one hand while simultaneously checking them against the list projected on her omnitool, all while muttering obscenities under her breath.  Ryder crossed her arms and leaned against the frame, indulging in having caught her partner unawares and in her element.  Vetra was much more relaxed when other people - Ryder aside - weren’t around and it gave Ryder a sort of tender joy to see her so at ease.  But of course, such sappy sentiments would never stop her from teasing her girlfriend, not at all.  As Vetra straightened back up, Ryder announced her presence in as serious a tone as she could fake.

“Ms. Nyx, your assistance is urgently required on the bridge.”  Vetra turned around to meet Ryder’s gaze, crossing her own arms in the process.

“Is it now, Pathfinder?” she said, with a poorly constrained smile.  

“Indeed.  Life and death situation; fate of the cluster at stake.  The usual.”

“Mmm, I’m sure.  Unfortunately for you, Ryder, it just so happens that I’m currently having the time of my life processing requisitions.  Can your little ‘situation’ measure up to the sheer euphoria of cataloguing rolls of toilet paper?”  Vetra deadpanned the statement so completely that Ryder found herself staring at her partner in disbelief, mouth dropping.  Vetra, clearly delighting in Ryder’s bewilderment, had the gall to wink at her.  Too tired to retort, Ryder finally broke.  She sprang forward, proffering a hand and letting all her excitement shine past the bit.

“Oh my god, come on already, you silly turian, I want to show you something!”  Vetra smiled in turn and reached out to take said hand.

“Yeah, alright, I was getting pretty sick of checking for delivery discrepancies anyway.  So what have you - whoah!”  As soon as she had a hold on her, Ryder tugged Vetra into a jog, pulling her out of the office and around onto the cargo lift.  She punched the ascent and the thing began its slow, clunky climb.  Unfortunately, slow and clunky was something of an understatement; Ryder found herself tapping her foot with impatience as they rose ploddingly.

“Excited, are we?” Vetra poked.

“Trust me, babe, you’re going to love this.”  

“If it’s whatever’s responsible for you smiling like this, then I’m sure I will.”  Vetra slung an arm around Ryder’s shoulders, who in turn threw an arm around Vetra’s waist; overt affection came more easily when they were alone.  Additionally, being wrapped around each other had the added benefit of slowing Ryder down a bit: pulled close to Vetra’s side, she was forced to adopt a slightly more sane pace as they made their way back through the ship and up to the bridge.  Ryder didn’t mind.  It was totally worth trading speed for.  When they eventually came up on the bridge doors, Ryder called a halt before they could enter.

“Okay, close your eyes.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, I did it that time you tried to kill me with a blackened piece of cow.”

“Fair point.”

“Look, I’d cover them for you if I could, but I can’t help the fact that you’re absurdly tall.”  Vetra grinned evilly down at her.

“Well, I can’t help the fact that you’re a shrimp.  And don’t pretend you don’t love it, short stack.”

“Yeah, I do, now close ‘em, Nyx!” Ryder muttered, her face flushing a little as Vetra eyed her.  Apparently sufficiently appeased, her partner deigned to close her eyes.  Ryder guided her temporarily sightless charge through the doors and to the fore of the bridge.  With her implant, she signaled SAM to collapse the navigation panel and guided Vetra to sit on the now available ledge before joining her by her side.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.”  Vetra did so and promptly gasped.

“Oh, wow.”

“Right?”

“That’s...”

“Right?!”

“Hot damn, Ryder.  That’s gorgeous.”  Ryder hummed an affirmation, thoroughly pleased with herself.  “You know how to pick ‘em, babe.”

“What can I say?  I’ve got exceptional taste in star systems.”  Vetra elbowed her affectionately.  

“You sure do.”

“So... do you wanna name them?”  Vetra spluttered, incredulously amused.

“Be serious.”

“I am serious!”

“Ryder, is that even something you’re allowed to do?”

“Aw, c’mon, I’m the Pathfinder.  If anyone can get away with naming a couple of planets, I think it’s me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”  Vetra shook her head, but Ryder knew she just about had her.  Her partner just needed the right incentive.

“I’m giving you dibs on naming the first one.”  That got her.  Vetra opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, and peered curiously into space.

“Which one’s that?”  Ryder snorted and pointed.

“Purple-blue ice giant with the three moons, very edge of the heliosphere.”

“Oh, you spoil me.”

“I try.  So, give us a name!  What are you thinking?”

“Hmm.  I’m thinking… Not Dead Yet.”  Ryder stifled a chuckle.  

“Why that?”

“Looks like it’s almost been ejected from the system, but the big bastard’s clinging on something fierce.”

“A name the Initiative can relate to, I’m sure.”

“That’s the idea.  Alright, your turn, oh mighty Pathfinder.  What’re we going to call that one?”  The planet in question was a chthonian-in-progress; a gas giant in close orbit to Avaarus, its emerald-colored atmosphere in the process of being stripped away to reveal the molten aluminum-iron core.

“Stinky.”  Vetra burst out laughing.

“What?! You’re messing with me.”

“Look at it!  That thing is trailing bright green gas like no one’s business.”

“Ryder, I’m no scientist, but I’m pretty certain that’s burning atmosphere.”

“Yeah and it’s stinking up the neighborhood as it goes.”  Vetra heaved a much-put upon sigh, but the breadth of her toothy turian grin and the fluttering of her mandibles betrayed her amusement.

“Alright, fine.  Stinky it is.  Which one next?”

“That one.  Whatcha got?”  The planet Ryder was indicating was another gas giant, though this one was significantly prettier than the newly-dubbed Stinky.  Ivory clouds of gas billowed across it, cut though with the occasional twisting carmine storm.  It was a bloody, alabaster gem, stark against the black.  Vetra considered it thoughtfully.

“Would I sound crazy if I said it kind of looks like my sister?”

“Y’know... no, I see it, it kind of does.”  Ryder and Vetra gave each other a dubious, slant-eyed look at exactly the same time and erupted in giggles.

“Spirits, babe, Sid’s going to flip if I tell her I named a planet after her!”

“All the more reason to do it!”  Vetra huffed.

“Screw it.  Planet, I dub thee Sidera.”

“She’ll be thrilled.”  Falling victim to a yawn of massive proportions, Ryder leaned her head against Vetra’s shoulder and fought to keep her eyes open.  “Go on, you can do the next one too.”  Vetra cast her eyes around the system, searching for her next victim.

“How about that protoplanet?” she asked.  As Ryder murmured her sleepy approval, Vetra curled an arm around her.  “Well, as long as I’m being all sentimental… Prag’rath.”  Ryder scrunched her nose in confusion.

“Prag’rath?”

“The batarian mercenary who taught me to shoot.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

“She’d kick my ass for it.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”  Though there were yet planets in need of names, tiredness and the sheer splendor of the system had Vetra and Ryder lapsing into a warm and comfortable silence, pressed close together.  The Avaarus system slowly and silently spun before them, its striking beauty framed by the stars so incredibly remote in the distance.

“Is this something normal couples do?” Ryder asked.  Vetra peered down at her.

“Naming planets?  I mean... no, probably not.”  Vetra brought Ryder’s hand up to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.  “But I’d like to think it’s very us.  This was a lot of fun, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m glad.”  Ryder settled further against her partner and finally stopped fighting the exhaustion of the day, letting her eyes droop shut.  Though already half-asleep, she whispered, “Vetra?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you.”  The last things Ryder registered before finally succumbing to sleep were the pale, sparkling light of Avaarus and Vetra’s voice, murmuring in her ear.

“I love you too.”

[mementomori-demimonde]

Hidden Scars

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X

Chapter 11.1 

YOU CHOOSE TO STAY IN

You keep staring at your foot trapped in the crack of the door. Suddenly, the promise you’ve made a while ago rings in your head: you swore you wouldn’t leave, that you would stay, and the scars on your left shoulder are a token for your obedience, your willingness to follow her instructions.

After all, you really don’t want to find out what the punishment would be - you’ve never really broken a promise before, but you imagine the consequences won’t be pleasant - also this might be another test. You wonder if you’ve considered, even for a moment, that she’s just seized the opportunity to put on a show and see your reaction? Perhaps she wanted you to catch the door with your foot, perhaps she’s studying your movements from a secret camera on her phone, it wouldn’t be the first time.

You imagine her coming back in a few hours top, a box of cupcakes in her hand as she grins, praising you and acting like nothing really important has happened, carrying on with your ‘normal’ lives like any other day, making you forget about the event as well, putting onto it the hazy veil of a dream until you start to question if it was really one or not.

You draw a shaky breath and, praying with all your might that you’re making the right decision, you withdraw your foot and let the door slide close, locking itself with a soft click .

Miranda doesn’t come back in a few hours.

Miranda doesn’t come back in the night.

Miranda doesn’t come back in the morning, nor the following day.

Miranda doesn’t come back for a week, nor after then days, or twenty.

Miranda simply doesn’t come back and you’re fearing the worst.

You’ve started tormenting yourself after a few days, the guilt eating you alive from the inside, because if only you’d gone after her, perhaps things would be different, now.

What if that danger caught her? What if you could’ve helped her? What if it’s too late? How can you move on, now, that your life before Miranda has been completely erased, up to the point that you’re wondering if you’re even able to function without her?

After the third week locked inside an apartment with very little distraction, you can barely discern day and night. You sometimes find yourself doing push-ups that are meant for the morning in the evening, you’re spinning your knife while munching on some energy bars that are supposed to be your dinner, and graze almost affectionately at in while you shower, mesmerized by the little droplets of blood that get suckled into the drain when you press the blade into your hand or prick your thigh.

Miranda is the only thought that stays in your mind. You wonder when you’ve eaten last time when your stomach grumbles, but you refuse to get up from your cocoon of blankets until the urge to relieve yourself is unbearable and you drag yourself to the bathroom.

More than once, you’ve contemplated the idea of simply going out and restarting a life on your own. But that would mean forgetting about Miranda… and you don’t want that.

You miss her.

The mere thought of her being in danger because of you, or her being dead, dumped into a canal because you made her flee, has your stomach twist.

You would make time go back and go after her if only you could. You would go out and look for her if you only knew where to start. However, Miranda has always been a great question mark: you don’t even know for certain what is her job, if she’s really an assassin or a spy for that matter, let alone the enemies she has so stubbornly kept secret all this time. What are you going to do? Wander dark alleys at night hoping some creepy guy has some information about a possible killer named Miranda? It’s absurd.

You have no other option than to wait, and hope - and pray - she’s not dead. After all, Miranda is strong, she’s clever, she’s mean when she has to, she knows very little limits- she can do it, she can make it, she can come back. Home, to you.

The door remains closed for another couple of days.

You’re laying on the carpet, the half bottle of liquor next to you it’s opened just to smell the intoxicating scent of alcohol and trigger memories of her. You’re spinning the knife around without looking, hissing when the sharp blade cuts through the skin of your palm, but you don’t care for the pain.

Instead, the noise of the keys rattling on the other side of the closed-door has you shot your eyes open in alertness, and you lift your head from the floor.

The lock clicks, and you’re suddenly aware of yourself, as if brought back to life, when the door cracks open. You spot a familiar lather coat poking in before her.

Miranda, all in black like always, slips inside with a shuddering sigh. She spins quickly on her heels, giving her back, and pushes the door closed with her hand, letting it rest on the wooden surface.

“Miranda?” You call, your voice hoarse for the prolonged inactivity - or when was the last time you drank something?

Slowly, you push yourself up, wondering, for a moment, if you’re not dreaming. After all, you did imagine her the other day, after forgetting about eating for far too long, but she revealed herself to be just an illusion.

This time, however, it isn’t. You can feel it in your bones that she’s real.

“You didn’t come after me.” She murmurs.

She’s still giving you her back, she’s distant, and yet her words hurt like stabs. You can’t see her face, but her eyes are carved in your brain - every move, every light, every twitch, every hidden emotion.

It’s been weeks, but you still remember them after thinking about her for hours, all day, every day, and you know the brightness in them is opaque now, her iris glassy for some tears she would try to hide, in any other circumstance.

Not now, though.

She doesn’t hide the quiver in her voice either, merely clears her throat.

“Good girl, not breaking your promises.” She chuffs out a chuckle, but you can hear the disappointment there. “So obedient, even when-”

She trails off and you swallow, her voice, your promises, swirling around your head and blending into a tormenting tune.

“You wanted me to come after you?” You wonder, brow pinched as you stand up, rubbing your hands together to get rid of some inexistent dust. The irony of it all as you puzzled: she’s spent months trying to get you to listen to her, reminding you to keep your promises, and now she’s telling you that you were allowed, after all, to break the most important one: not leaving.

You hear a dull thud when Miranda rests her forehead against the door.

“It doesn’t matter now.” She mumbles, and she sounds so tired, so broken that your first thought is to rush to her and pull her down to the couch, or help her to bed, strip her of her clothes to let her rest while you boil the water for the tea and your life returns to have a purpose.

You’ve taken barely a couple of steps when she turns over, and you gasp, stopping dead in your tracks.

Miranda’s face is all bruised. Her lip is split in the middle, there’s a faint dark halo under her left eyes and scratch marks on the cheekbone, her neck is marked by a crossed reddish lines, and she’s keeping her left arm clutched to her chest in a such awkward angle, you’d bet her shoulder is dislocated.

You see your own fear and confusion, and guilt reflected into her eyes and there’s nothing you can do to make either of those go away.

“Miranda- what happened to you?” You breathe out with a terrified wheeze, wondering if you really could’ve prevented all this if you’d just disobeyed, broken a promise, and chased after her after you told her you loved her.

Her silence makes your heart thrum in your chest, you try to take a step closer to her, but once again, you stop.

“We’ve got no time.” She murmurs, pressing her lips together, seemingly unbothered by the wound on her mouth, smeared with clotted blood. “They’re coming to get you,” she says, her tone is urgent when she sighs, “to punish me.”

You would ask for more information about who is going to assault the two of you in her apartment any time now, but you already know you’d get no answer, not to mention that you’re probably in immediate danger already.

You swallow, shaking your head, your dominant hand already reaching for the dagger that you keep strapped to your leg - you kept it there all those days because the idea of having it on you, as she showed you, as she told you to do, gave you comfort.

“We can take them.” You blurt out, your brow pinching. “Together, we can do it- please, you trained me for this-”

Miranda shakes her head. She’s smiling, but you can taste all the bitterness and the sadness that lay beneath it.

“No, this was a mistake from the beginning.” She murmurs, her voice thicker than usual, soft and sharp at the same time. “I knew you were different and I kept you anyway… or maybe because of it, I don’t know.” She’s leaning heavily against the door now, her sane hand rummaging into her pocket without a real purpose. “I was arrogant and selfish and you’ll pay for it. I’ll pay for it, we’ll both-”

In a few strides, she’s in front of you, the immense distance between you, suddenly gone. You gaze into those blue eyes you missed so much and find the halo of unshed tears there. The closeness of her wounds makes you wince in sympathy. You can feel her hot breath crashing onto your mouth.

You would like to touch her face, but you fear being rejected. There are still so many unresolved issues between you that everything is difficult and the incoming peril makes it even more complicated.

To your surprise, however, it’s Miranda that touches your face, instead. Her hand comes warm against your cheek, the thumb stroking lightly over the seam of your lips. You would talk, but you can’t, too caught in that moment.

“Know that I’m doing this because you make us weak-” She whispers, but the accusation in her voice is unmatched by the velvet in her voice. “And also because I-” Her breath hitches, your heart skips a beat when she closes her eyes and exhales. “I won’t let them have you, m’eudail, no matter what it costs.”

She’s kissing you now, and it’s desperate: it doesn’t taste of hope, it doesn’t taste of homecoming; it has the coppery taste of blood from her split lip with the bitter undertones of goodbyes. It scares you.

“I’m sorry.” Miranda whispers, parting from you.

Without tearing her eyes off of you, she walks backward toward the kitchen.  She pulls out from the pocket the hand you thought was rummaging purposelessly and reaches under the table.

You know what she keeps there, after all, you helped her with the tape that keeps the gun strapped below the marble.

You jerk when you hear the harsh ripping sound.

You swallow nothing when she walks back to you.

The metal is cold on your forehead when Miranda places it there.

You close your eyes when she rests her index finger on the trigger and pulls.

[dc81600]

SCP-REDD

In a dark room a bank of monitor screens illuminated a pale face. The rusted brown glow of the video feeds gave Roger Little more color than the sun had cared to give him in the past few months. Half a kilometer north and two hundred meters down, an automated surveillance drone slowly made its way through a series of corroded metal hallways.

It was oddly silent, beyond the whine of computers and the whir of fans. Roger fiddled with his volume before checking the system audio. Nothing but the noises of the drone itself. No groaning, no creaking, no screaming. Just the soft click clack of the drone.

Roger checked the timing. The drone should have reached it by now. He squinted into the glare and overrode the drone. Nothing but flakes of rusted metal scattered across a floor of rusted metal, fallen from the walls and ceiling of rusted metal.

After several minutes of searching, Roger rubbed his temples. He drummed his fingers on his little metal desk and took a few deep breaths. He reached over and picked up the bulky plastic phone sitting on the edge of his work space. He dialed the number and only had to wait a few seconds before it was answered.

"Sir? It's Roger Little, from Surveillance. We may have a problem."

In the cold reaches of space, a satellite continued to do what it had done for over a decade. It hung in the weaker clutches of the Earth's gravity and watched a man wander about.

The man it was watching, however, was doing something a ways away from his status quo. He was running. Through the sweltering heat of the American Southwest in the middle of its summer, over the scorched earth, under a blazing sun, Mister Lost ran.

In hot pursuit was a man with fiery red hair. His black jacket left unbuttoned, it snapped behind him like shadows cast by a fire, the red trimming a much duller affair than his hair. He was gaining on Lost, who continued to make the mistake of looking over his shoulder. Each glance seemed to give the red-haired man more speed.

The eventual collision left Lost sprawled on the ground for a moment before he tried crawling away. The second man was up in a near instant. He brushed himself off and waited a moment before continuing his pursuit. He walked just behind Lost for a time, until he tried to get up. The pursuer kicked his target back onto the ground. This repeated itself for some time, until the red-haired main simply grabbed the man in the green jacket and dragged him in the opposite direction.

They eventually came upon a third man, who had been sitting on a rock outcropping. Blood and rust clung to every inch of his body. With what seemed to be considerable effort, the man stood. He took two steps before falling.

The red man grabbed the rusted man by the shirt and hauled him up onto his shoulder in a way that was quick but not unkind. All the while Mister Lost remained gripped in his opposite hand. After what looked like a satisfied sigh, the red man walked east.

An O5 rolled an unlit cigar back and forth over the sleek top of his desk. In front of him, the video feed on his monitor ended. Beyond that, his secretary stood at attention.

The secretary took a brief glance at his clipboard. "As you can see, sir, the unknown humanoid has captured both 2933 and 920. Further surveillance from multiple sources show it is now heading for one of our facilities."

The Overseer idly flicked the cigar, sending it spinning. "Given the context, I'm guessing it can be safely assumed who the entity is?"

"It's attacked two of the three Little Mister anomalies we don't have properly contained and now seems to be heading for the Site where we contain the other seventeen. Combined with its general appearance, yes. The list's designation number fourteen, Mr. Redd."

"Lock the Site down. We don't know what Redd is capable of. Considering it was able to escape 2933-1 and has been able to transport 920 for over a hundred miles without stopping, it's not something we want to discover first hand in the midst of an active facility."

The secretary nodded and departed for his own desk. Left alone, the Overseer plucked the cigar up and spun it between his fingers. He replayed the submitted videos and quietly thought to himself.

Eventually his secretary returned, and after a brief wait hustled back out with a freshly stamped order. Alone again, O5-4 slid the silver lighter off his desk and thumbed it several times before it sparked.

A group of people sat in a room full of monitors. Not quite like the one previously described, which was merely a one man obligation simply for the principle of the thing. As the door so boldly claimed, reading Site-██1 Security, this was a security station for a Foundation site, full of attentive individuals, with live feeds covering nearly every hallway and the ability to stream feeds from various containment cells if forwarded from the cell's own containment team.

One attentive individual sat up in her chair, more so than her already perfect posture had allowed. She began squinting at one of the monitors showing a feed of a camera deep within the facility, well away from any of the entrances.

Within the frame was a trio of men. One was dressed in a black and red jacket, one in a coat of metal, and one in a green hoodie. The first was carrying the second and dragging the third, the former of which was groaning and screeching like rusted clockwork and the latter was attempting to crawl away despite appearing to be unconscious.

She wondered how they arrived in the site despite it being locked down, when no one else had made any sort of comment. The worker flagged down her superior as quick as she could and explained what she had seen. But when she pointed to the group of monitors of the area the men had just been spotted in, they were nowhere to be seen. Now one of her coworkers, who had been monitoring an entirely different Wing, was reporting about them.

By the time attention arrived on the monitor in question the men were nowhere to be seen, and further examination showed they had disappeared from surveillance entirely.

O5-4 snubbed out his cheap cigar in one hand and thumbed one of the buttons on his monitor with the other. A round woman with sharp eyes snapped into view.

After a smokey exhale the O5 sat up and meshed his fingers together, if only for himself. His outgoing calls only showed a generic silhouette. "Dziekan. I hope all is well."

The Site Director fidgeted. To her credit, it was only slightly. "Not as such, sir. Redd has somehow breached the site with both Lost and Scary. More than that, he broadcasted a video message from somewhere in the facility. And he's made demands."

The weight of the silence from her superior stayed Dziekan. After several seconds O5-4 took a slow breath and said, "Somewhere in the facility?"

"Well. Sir. I don't recognize the area. It appeared to be a medical bay, but it definitely isn't any I'm aware of. With him was a little girl with a swollen stomach. He called her Katherine but we don't have any subjects on file with that name."

The name pressed down on the Overseer's chest. He took slow, deep breaths in an effort to calm himself but every inhale became more and more difficult. On autopilot, his hands opened his cigar case. The lighter sparked on the first flick and he took a deep drag. On exhale he realized what he was doing, but decided he may as well enjoy it while he could. How in the world could Redd have known about 231—

"O5-4? Are you still there?"

He shifted out of his daze, if only slightly. "Dziekan. Right. Yes. What were his demands?"

"For you to personally come in to see him, or he would kill the girl."

The next pull turned half the cigar to ash. "And?"

"Nothing else. Just for you to see him in person."

O5-4 watched his hand shake, smoke from the cigar zigzagging. "What did you tell him?"

"That I would notify you."

"You didn't say anything about that being against protocol, it being unlikely of happening, anything like that?"

"Seemed unwise to do so, given the context."

He finished his cigar. "If we're both alive tomorrow, remind me to give you a pay raise."

"Sir?"

He terminated the connection.

One door creaked open only to reveal another. O5-4 stepped through and stared down at the man leaning against the wall, an IV sticking into his arm. Mister Scary looked at him and smiled. The contraction chipped away some rust and blood flowed from the edges of his mouth. Neither said anything as the Overseer stepped past the Little Mister, glanced at the bag of morphine, and went through the second door, this one rusted open.

He considered breaking into a run down the hallway and settled on a stiff jog. Some of the tiles cracked under his feet and when he arrived at the double doors they were open, the joints rusting them in place. "I: 1-7 Os: Ker" was all that was visible of the plaque beside the doors.

Rust began to cling to some of the machinery, but the video feed of SCP-231-7's room was still functioning. Overseer Four steeled himself before looking.

A little girl lay in a hospital bed, her pregnant belly covered by her surgical gown. She seemed quite calm given the circumstances, but given her general situation there likely wasn't much that would upset her anymore.

Next to her bed was a man in a red vest, his jacket draped over the back of his seat. In one hand he held the ankle of a rusting man who was attempting to crawl away, and in the other he held a children's book.

The only sounds in the room were Lost groaning as his body rusted as he scrabbled against the decaying tiles and Redd reading in a warm voice.

O5-4 found the intercom and pressed the button. Katherine winced at the squealing as the system turned on and Redd cocked his head at the noise.

"Alright, Mister Redd. I'm here."

Redd released Lost and slowly turned in his seat to reach into his jacket pocket, removing a piece of paper. He marked his place in the story and shut it, setting the book on the bed. As Redd looked into the camera O5-4 saw flakes of brown and black on Redd's skin, red lightning sparking against it and revealing smooth skin.

Redd smiled. "Please, no need for the 'Mister' formality. We're all friends here. I'm Redd open parenthesis discontinued closed parenthesis. My friends just call me Redd. How are you, Four?"

Geniality was not what O5-4 was expecting. A few moments passed, filled only with the sound of Lost banging on the door, before Redd tilted his head and waved at the camera. O5-4 cleared his throat and said, "I've been better, Redd. You've been causing a lot of problems lately. Now what is it you want?"

Redd shrugged theatrically, splaying his palms. "Sorry about that. Though I do believe I was clear with my video earlier. I'd like to see you, face to face. No cameras, no PA systems. No tricks, no body doubles."

Was that a knife in Redd's hand? No, nothing. A trick of the light, a video oddity.

"Before that, I have one question. How did you get here?"

"Walked."

"The site has been on lockdown and you were able to avoid surveillance for most of your trek despite us having a satellite meant to track Mister Lost. And you somehow not only knew of this Wing, but how to access it."

"Like I said, I walked. As for why I knew, call it insider information. Now, please do get in here."

Again, a glimpse of black in his palm. A jagged shadow that played hell with the lighting of the room.

With great trepidation O5-4 unlocked the blast door and dodged Lost as he darted past. After watching the Little Mister run down the hall, the Overseer stepped into the room. It smelled of disinfectant and lilac, thanks to the small aromatizer next to the bed. He felt his heart hammer away at his throat as he looked to Redd, and clench slightly when the child gave him a little wave.

Redd gestured to the armchair on the opposite side of the bed. Once they were both seated Redd cupped his hands together and sighed.

"So, this is it," Redd said. "The finale. The brief period after a long sentence that drips with the taste of freedom. How long have you been doing this job?"

The Overseer was silent.

Redd smiled. Four would have sworn the overhead lights took on a slightly bloody hue.

"I," Redd finally said, "have been a Little Mister for… what is it, almost twenty years? Something like that. It's been difficult, let me tell you."

Redd looked down at the dagger in his hand, which was now all too real. With something akin to reverence he lifted it up and dragged the shadow across his own throat, cutting so deep his exposed trachea whistled softly. Red ran down his shirt. But it clung at odd places, depicting runes that sat at the edge of the Overseer's memory. Lightning lanced out and into the damage, the blood draining as red sparks healed the wound.

The Little Mister took another breath, "And there's no getting away from it. It won't let me go. As long as this stupid dirt ball keeps spinning, I'm going to be here. Unchanging. Undying. Unable to feel much beyond blinding rage."

He smiled again. "But what if I stopped the spinning? What if I could stop it all? What if I could stop hurting? I'd have to try, right?"

"If that's your intention, why bring me here? Why drag the other two around?"

"I guess I needed some kind of... closure," Redd said, his eyes distant.

I walked. I don't know how long, but I did. I know that much. I somehow ended up at the Wonderworks, the place that had eluded me for so bloody long. And it was running. No old man, but the place was bustling all the same. It was the gods damned child! The oh, so lovely Isabel! But what could I do to her? She was in the same sort as me, in a way. She asked me why you pricks hadn't collected me yet. I didn't really have an answer, but I figured, why not? Not like I had anything else to do. Suicide wasn't the option, as you can plainly fucking see!

But as I got closer, I got this feeling. This itching, burning sensation digging into my soul— if I even have one anymore. There was a thing, locked deep in the hole my brothers were buried. It spoke to me in ways I'll never be able to convey to you. Just. Fuck. It felt good. And I knew. I knew! I always thought I was just subject to anger issues, but all along I was a subject to the King!

Did you know gods can't die? They just… fade, waiting for their time to come again. But they still leave corpses. Something to jam a spigot into and tap into whatever power might be left lying around. The old man must have gotten desperate. Brass wasn't enough, even as big as the corpse he got pulled from is. A Broken universe still yields a Broken power, and a sliver of a fragment isn't worth much of anything. So he tried something a bit more intact, and…

...

What was I talking about? …Wait. Wait, no…

...

I used to say I have these… lucid moments. It's like— Do you wear glasses? You look the type. That brief time when you put them on, when your eyes see both through and around the lens. And everything just seems to warp around you as the glass rushes forward, the world shifts as the filter expands. You wear them long enough and you stop seeing the frames in your vision, don't feel the arms on your ears anymore.

...

I can't tell if my humanity is the prescription or the astigmatism anymore.

And I don't care. I'm so, so sick of it all. My eyes are strained to the point of bleeding and I can't close them. But at least that means I get to watch the end.

Redd eventually stirred from his trance. "Here, I want you to have this." He removed the bookmark from its spot and unfolded it before handing it over.

O5-4 stared at the list. One line in particular drew his eye.

14. Mr. Redd (discontinued) ✔

The man stood there for a moment, eyes unfocused. Somewhere in his mind the twentieth slot was filled. He leaned to the right, his hand out as if ready for a cane to take the weight. After a moment he caught his balance and examined his right hand, then the left, flexing and clenching them. He straightened back up and examined the room.

The former body of O5-4 took a breath.

Mister Collector let it out.

Collector reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp piece of paper, uncrumpled despite its confines.

He let out a small chuckle. The paper between his thumb and middle finger, he snapped, and a bubble formed around the parchment. It floated just above his palm, bounced when he tapped it. He gave the top of the bubble a light pat and it collapsed into itself, away for him to take out later.

"How you feeling?" Redd asked from his seat.

"Better than I have in years," Collector responded. When he spoke, Redd sat up. Squinted. "And yourself?"

"You—!" Redd flew forward, knife in hand.

Collector slapped it away into a bubble, which soared just out of Redd's flailing grasp. Redd drew another from his sleeve and threw it, only for it to be caught in another bubble. Red in the face, Redd swung a fist while simply producing a dagger from his palm. Collector caught the punch and a silky bubble wrapped itself around Redd's hand. He pulled and yanked and was only able to free himself when he released his grip on the third shadow knife.

"How?!" Redd demanded. "You should be dead! The girl said you were dead!"

"I likely am. The me you are speaking to is merely a copy, made prior to Mister Forgetful erasing 'me' from my old body. Whatever was left in the body of Isiah Crawford after that was Doctor Wondertainment, though with a bit too much Factory mixed in for my taste. I suppose I remember all that because Forgetful couldn't get to me as I was merely in potentia. You remember Mister Mad?"

"He was a fucking— were we all just tests? A fucking training ground?"

"Not all of you, no." Mister Collector, née Doctor Wondertainment smiled. It lacked its old rainbow glow but it shined all the same. "Forgetful and Stripes to cover my tracks, the latter's brother to get you all here…" The smile faded. "…Scary. Ahem. Truth be told, this whole Collector concept was done fairly late into the project's development. I mostly wanted to see how things would turn out. How is Isabel doing?"

Redd glowered. "So then why was I made?"

The old man narrowed the eyes that weren't really his. "Hmm. You were a gamble, I suppose. Of course, I made a grave error— as they say, always bet on black."

Redd grabbed Collector by the collar. "Do you think this is a fucking joke? That I am somehow funny?"

"Not as such. My apologies, I was trying to lighten the mood. What would you like me to say? That you were a defect? That I condensed a power that was much more destructive than I could have imagined and pumped it into some young man's veins? I tried to change you, but you just wouldn't take much. So Redd you became."

Redd released his grip, his face expressionless. "So I'm a mistake."

Collector straightened his tie. "I would more say… an unfortunate surprise. But who doesn't like surprises?"

"Ha…" Redd reeled back, smiling. It took another few seconds for his face to move again. "I'll show you a surprise."

"And what's that?"

The grin in Redd's mouth was almost as sharp as the knives in Collector's bubbles. "That would be telling, dear father. Can't spoil the surprise."

Redd sidled next to the child's bed and smiled down at her. Katherine smiled back up at him, her gaze occasionally edging toward the other Mister. Redd sat down, the impact bouncing the book up and off of the bed. A chuckle left him as he bent over to get it.

Redd set the book down in the center of the bed. He traced out a curved knife on the cover. A spark of red followed his fingertip, outlining the weapon. Once completed the red flickered and was filled with black. Redd slipped the knife off the book as one would a playing card and held it for Collector to see. When Redd turned it so that the blade faced Collector, it appeared to merely be a wispy black line flickering in the light.

"Are you ready?" Redd asked Katherine in a soft voice.

The child took a few breaths. "Are you sure you can? I don't want Him getting hurt."

Redd twirled the knife in one hand and brushed back her hair with the other. "These people may have locked him away, but I just so happen to have the key."

With trembling fingers she lifted up her gown to expose her belly. Brands marked the swollen skin, dull and dark. They crackled like coal when Redd touched them. Katherine laid flat and squeezed her eyes shut.

The twisted scalpel slipped into her, the blade so fine she didn't wince. But as Redd ran the knife across her, she began to scream. The runes on her skin sizzled as Redd cut through them, vapor rising into the air. Within the girl, red and purple pulsed and writhed, her womb mangled and distended. It squished and squelched as her yelling became racking sobs.

All the while, Collector stood impassively at the foot of the bed. He had seen as bad, caused worse, but a twinge of guilt struck him as he thought of Sweetie. Hopefully she would at least speak to him when he found her. Collector stirred from his thoughts when Redd cleared his throat, knife hanging over the mess.

"Don't lose focus, old man. You're about to witness the birth of a new era. Or, at least, the death of this one."

The knife dropped.

Rather than cut or tear into the tissue, the dagger simply sank into it. Black into a mottled red. But as it was swallowed, a pinprick of bright red showed itself. There was a moment of stillness, even within the girl, as the shadows cast across her intestines swirled to the red.

The room was suddenly all too full. The smell of iron was nearly palpable, a loud ripping sound the only thing accompanying Katherine's now-resumed screams. Hardened flesh that matched the color of a dying sun dripped with blood and placenta. It pressed everywhere within the room, on the walls, under the bed, even within the inhabitants. The ceiling began to crack, and then the tearing sound intensified enough to drown out the sobs.

The ceiling exploded. The earth and concrete above it was obliterated as the thing rose, level after level was leveled by the growing expanse. It grew as it rose, each rising floor destroyed in a greater capacity. Eventually Site-██ was exposed to the open air, where dark clouds were beat about by a pair of reverse wings. Eleven mouths creaked open to take their first breaths.

Foundation personnel stared up in slack-jaw awe. At a distance, civilians who could spot at least the crown of horns began to panic. Down in the medical room, the trio remained. A thin umbilical cord connecting Katherine to her son. Redd cackled and pointed the monstrosity out to the spent child. Collector tapped the side of his head and a bubble formed around it.

The Seventh Son spoke. Clouds broke and the sky cracked under the weight of his words. The air itself tasted of blood. All those within the range of His mighty voice felt crimson run out their ears, with the exception of a single man standing in the center of it all. His bubble vibrated rainbows against the onslaught, but held.

"Do you see?!" Redd yelled, none hearing him over the din. He touched the blood coming from his ear and showed Collector. "It's over! I can finally be over!"

Once the bubble stopped shaking, Collector popped it. The world was silent, waiting for the Son's next words. He took the umbilical cord in his hand and proffered it to Redd. A crack of a smile broke Redd's face. From nowhere he produced another dagger and with no amount of ceremony separated mother and child.

Knowing this, the Seventh Son drew another breath. When He spoke again, His words fell on deaf ears. The air around him shimmered slightly, reflecting a rainbow in places.

Collector lowered his hand from where he had touched the Scarlet King's spawn. Something stuck to his hand, which he wiped off on the bed sheet. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie again.

After a moment he turned to Redd, a small smile on his lips. "I'm so sorry, I'm afraid I couldn't hear you over all the noise. What were you saying?"

Redd said nothing. He did nothing, for a short time. Then his eye twitched. He looked at the shimmer of the bubble around the Seventh Son, at the stain on the bed sheet. Bony palms dug into his eyes as he tried to rub whatever nonsense was clouding his vision. When he looked again, the scene was the same.

"…No," Redd finally said, a full sword in his hand. He slashed at the bubble, the blade digging into the film. Then it flew out of his hand as the bubble pushed back. "No."

Collector watched Redd attack the bubble over and over again with a variety of shadow weapons. After a dozen or so weapons were embedded in the wall behind him, Redd slashed at his own hands and thrust the scarlet lightning into the bubble. It did nothing but catch the light.

"No!" Redd repeated, turning on Collector. "No."

"Sorry, is this distracting you?" Collector said. He raised a palm and snatched away the Seventh Son, now the size of a newt contained within the ball in the Little Mister's hand. "I'll put it away."

Redd watched his savior vanish with a whimsical pop! Mouth agape, he turned to his Queen. She couldn't look back, her eyes glazed over. Her breaths came in short, ragged bursts. Redd ground his teeth together and turned back to Collector.

With a mouth full of blood and darkness, Redd yelled, "No!"

He stumbled forward, knife in hand without the usual motion. It buried itself in Collector's chest.

"No!" Redd screamed, spraying blood in Collector's face. He pulled the knife out of his brother/father and continued stabbing him. "No. No! NO!"

Blood flew from the knife with each stab. Droplets froze in midair, catching other sprays and sloshing together into hovering bubbles of blood. Color drained from Collector's face as Redd's gained more and more.

"No…" Redd whispered, losing breath. His arm fell, opening a large gash across Collector's stomach. The knife fell and disintegrated, merging with the shadow cast by the last blood orb. A tear droplet met it. "No…"

Collector/Isiah hugged his brother/son. Redd sobbed against the offered shoulder. When the cries weakened in strength, Collector led Redd back to his seat. Redd fell into it and wrapped himself in his jacket. With a flick of his wrist Collector brought the crimson orbs into himself. By the time he finished collecting what shadow weapons remained he regained his color, though he moved slowly. He went about pop!ing the armaments away save for one. He took it out of its bubble and sat on the arm of the chair, between Redd and Katherine.

"I can't say this is how I envisioned the family reunion," Collector mused. "But I think I can afford you at least one gift."

Redd almost laughed. "What could you possibly give me?"

"Less give." Collector tapped Redd's forehead. "More take."

Redd blinked. He stared at the swirling hate bubbled in front of him. He winced when it vanished with a light tap from Collector. Emptiness filled him. Wonderful, calming emptiness. Tranquil, simple serenity.

Redd felt where Collector had prodded him. "It… it's gone?"

"Simply somewhere else."

Redd nearly sprang from his chair. "The girl! You could… take whatever they did to her out? Make her right?"

"I don't believe they made her wrong," Collector said, turning his gaze to Katherine. "If the Scarlet King could enter this world without humanity's help, he would have done it already. She chose this life for him. There is nothing for me to take from her, except…"

The black dagger seemed to try to catch the light in his hand.

"At least let me do it," Redd urged.

"I didn't wash your hands of blood just for you to dirty them again, Redd," Collector replied. "What's a few more drops on mine?"

He was silent for a moment, and then Redd said, "I don't think I really want that name anymore."

"Oh?"

He closed his eyes. The roiling red sea of his mind was now a calm blue. "I'm thinking Bluee."

"Blue?"

"With two E's."

Collector wheezed a laugh. "So be it. Excuse me one moment, Bluee."

It was over quick. Bluee found it hard to look at her, so he covered her up.

"So… what now?" Bluee asked.

"Now you enter one of the Foundation's little boxes, like your siblings," Collector said.

"What? That's it?" Bluee stood. "No, that isn't fair, it can't just end like-"

Collector held up a hand, and Bluee went silent. Collector reached into his pocket slowly, like the old man he looked to be. "You may be free of the Scarlet King's branding, but not of Wondertainment's. I'm in the body of a Foundation Overseer now. We have to act our parts."

Collector finally retrieved the paper he had pulled from his pocket earlier. He offered it to Bluee, who took it gingerly.

Wow! You've found them all and became Mr. Collector!!

But the fun isn't over yet, because now a whole new set of Misters will soon be in development, brought to you by our own Ms. Heir!

00. Mr. Collector ✔ 01. Mr. Chameleon ✔ 02. Mr. Headless ✔ 03. Mr. Laugh ✔ 04. Mr. Forgetful ✔ 05. Mr. Shapey ✔ 06. Mr. Soap ✔ 07. Mr. Hungry ✔ 08. Mr. Brass ✔ 09. Mr. Hot ✔ 10. Ms. Sweetie ✔ 11. Mr. Life and Mr. Death ✔ 12. Mr. Fish ✔ 13. Mr. Moon ✔ 14. Mr. Redd (discontinued) ✔ 15. Mr. Money ✔ 16. Mr. Lost ✔ 17. Mr. Lie ✔ 18. Mr. Mad ✔ 19. Mr. Scary ✔ 20. Mr. Stripes ✔

Bluee made a double take.

But the fun isn't over yet, because now a whole new set of Misters will soon be in development, brought to you by our own Ms. Heir!

Bluee looked up.

Collector's smile had more strength than the rest of his body combined. "Because we're not done yet." 

[cpd5021]

Unexpected - Chapter 17

Welcome to the final installment of this Upstead pregnancy fic! Honestly, this story could continue on indefinitely but I feel the need to bring some closure to this particular story line. I may revisit this world at a later point and explore Upstead parenting, but for now our time here is done. Thank you to each and every person who liked, re-blogged or commented on this story. It is truly appreciated and was a huge motivating factor for me continuing this story. So without further ado...Chapter 17!

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon and Hailey and Jay had spent most of the morning relaxing. Hailey, despite her lack of energy thanks to being at the end of her pregnancy, was itching to get the last few items on her to do list done. She had accomplished quiet a bit over the last few weeks of being stuck at home and really she should be satisfied with the list but there were just a few more things she wanted to do. Jay, being the patient boyfriend he was, had agreed to help her get them done. Although it wasn’t without a few well deserved eye rolls along the way. Now, they were on the last item, which was to put up some totes of odds and ends up into her tiny attic space. Jay had reluctantly pulled down the trap door, unfolding the questionable looking ladder and sneezing with the cloud of dust that fell down around him. Hailey stepped up to him, brushing a few cob webs off his shoulder and gave him a grateful smile. 

“It’s been a minute since I’ve been up there.” She sheepishly admitted, earning another eye roll. 

“No!” Jay exaggerated his response. “You don’t say.” He feigned irritation but Hailey saw right through him.

“It’s my last to do list item and then we can go back to your Netflix marathon.” Hailey promised, sending him another smile. 

“Yeah yeah.” Jay replied, grimacing at the rickety ladder. 

“I’ll go up there if you want.” Hailey offered with a shrug, earning yet another eye roll from Jay. He let out a huff and placed his hand on the first rung of the ladder. Hailey handed him one of the lighter bags and he clambered up into the ceiling. 

“Leave that big one for last, I’ll come back down and get it.” Jay said from above, concerned it would be too heavy for her. Hailey nodded and went about passing him the lighter items. After everything but the large plastic bin was stashed away, Jay shifted around to come back down. Hailey protested, saying that she could lift it up to him and went to kneel by the bin. As she stood up, bin in arms, she let out a gasp as a gush of warmth cascaded down her legs. Jay stuck his head down, looking mildly impatient as he waited for her to hand it over, and his eyes bulged slightly at the site below him. 

“Hailey?” He asked, voice cracking slightly. She stood rooted in the same spot, eyes glazed over and mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Jay quickly scrambled down the ladder and took the bin from her, setting it on the floor beside them. “Hailey..” He repeated, placing a hand on her shoulders. 

“I think my water just broke.” She all but whispered, eyes darting down to her soaked leggings. 

“I would say so. That or you just peed.” Jay teased and that earned him a scowl from Hailey. 

“I did not pee, thanks.” She huffed, glancing down at her legs again. “I need to shower.” She announced, pivoting in place before darting into the bedroom.

“Uh Hailey..” Jay started to protest, hot on her heels. “I think we should head to Med.” She ignored him, stripping her clothes as she made her way into the bathroom. He was as she turned on the water, stepping in without waiting for it to heat up and whipping the curtain shut behind her. Jay stood there, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck and suddenly feeling at a loss for what to do next. “Is there anything I can do?” He asked, taking a hesitant step towards her shower but only being met with silence. He carefully closed the distance and slowly pulled the curtain open just enough to peak in. His heart clenched at the sight before him. Hailey stood, unmoving under the stream of water, face pale and eyes red from the silent tears running down her face. “Hey...” He whispered, reaching in to place his palm against her cheek. “Talk to me, what’s the matter?”

“I can’t do it.” She whispered, eyes darting to meet his and looking terrified and frantic despite her body being frozen in place. 

“Do what?” Jay pushed gently. 

“Be a mother.” She closed her eyes as the words left her mouth, not wanting to see his response. 

“Hailey..” He spoke softly and his voice sounded full of love. “You can and you will. You’re going to be amazing. I know this is scary because it’s real now. But we got this.” Jay leaned into the shower, not caring that his shirt was getting wet from the spray coming off her and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. He helped her to wash up quickly and then helped to dry her off with the towel once she was done. She padded behind him into the bedroom, clad in nothing but her towel as Jay raced around the room, gathering her some clean clothes. Once she was dressed, Hailey say on the edge of the bed, the frantic look still evident in her eyes. Jay had grabbed their bags while she was dressing and now came to kneel in front of her. 

“Don’t leave me.” Hailey whispered, tears brimming her eyes once again. 

“Hailey I will be here every step of the way. I won’t ever leave you, I promise.” Jay held her hands tightly, emphasizing his words. Hailey simply nodded and tried to give him a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. He helped her down the stairs and quickly tossed their bags into the truck before returning to the entryway and leading her outside. He held her hand the entire way, breaking apart only to get into the drivers seat. The ride to Med was silent and felt like it took an eternity but eventually they pulled into the lot. 

“Can we just take a minute before we go in?” Hailey asked quietly, eyes closed and trying to focus on her breathes, a tell tale sign she was having a contraction. Jay rubbed her back gently as she dipped her head down, waiting for the discomfort to end. 

“Do you want me to let anyone know we’re here?” Jay asked, wondering if he should tell the unit. 

“You can tell Will if you want, but lets wait before we call the cavalry.” Hailey smiled and he was glad to see her teasing tone was momentarily back. Jay pulled out his phone, composing a quick text to Will and then got out to help her down from the truck. Hands clasped once again, they made their way through the doors and over to the elevators leading them to the Obstetrics floor. They shared the elevator with an older woman who gave them both a warm smile as she took them in. 

“Good luck.” The woman grinned at them, before stepping out onto the floor just before theirs. Once the doors closed Hailey let out another breath and Jay rubbed her arm softly. The doors opened with a ding and Hailey hesitantly stepped out onto the birthing floor. The nurse sitting at the desk waved them over with a smile, taking Hailey’s information and then standing to lead them to a private room. She instructed Hailey to change into a gown and went to grab some equipment. Once dressed, Hailey settled onto the bed, suffering another contraction before she could lay back. Jay held her hand, sitting beside her as the nurse came back in. She hooked a monitor onto Hailey’s stomach and then did a quick pelvic check to see if she was dilated. Another nurse came in and hooked her up to an IV, Hailey watching Jay closely the entire time. 

“And now we wait.” The nurse announced, looking happy with her exam. “You’re actually dilating quickly for a first timer, already about half way there. We can give you something for pain if you’d like it and we’ll bring in anesthesia for the epidural if that’s still part of your plan?” Hailey nodded, recalling her last doctors appointment where they had went over her birth plan. Hailey wasn’t one for taking any extra medications but she had decided on an epidural after having a long discussion with her doctor. “Okay, we’ll be back in shortly then to check on you.” With that, the nurse left them alone. Jay’s phone dinged with a message and he glanced down with a smile. 

“That was Will. He says he’s working and to let him know if we need anything. And to let him know when his nephew arrives.” Jay glanced up at Hailey and was happy to see a smile on her face. 

They spent the next few hours trying their best to relax and rest for what was about to come. Nurses and other hospital staff were in and out, constantly checking on her status and sending updates to the doctors as needed. Hailey eventually did let Vanessa know she was here and had to fight her off over coming to visit before the baby was born. Hailey smiled at her old room mates excitement but she wasn’t in the mental state for company right now. She was feeling a huge mix of emotions the closer her contractions got, from fear to excitement and back to anxiety all within a matter of minutes. Jay, despite his fear of hospitals, was doing an excellent job keeping her calm and happy and she was beyond grateful for his presence. It had been long enough now that the sun was set outside their window and Hailey was starting to have some really intense contractions. The pain had gotten so bad it had made her sick, Jay right by her side, holding back her hair and comforting her. After that, the nurse and anesthesiologist had come in to set up her epidural. Once that was in place, Hailey was able to relax a little as the pain eased. Jay sat beside her, gently stroking her cheek as she laid on her side facing him. 

“I love you.” He whispered, bringing a small smile to her face. 

“Love you too.” She replied, nuzzling up into his hand. “You really think this will be okay? She asked, face turning serious. 

“Honestly? I have no idea what to expect but I do know that you are amazing and I will be here the whole way.” Jay leaned in and gave her a reassuring kiss.

Things picked up quickly, Hailey’s contractions coming faster and faster and soon she was fully dilated. Her once peaceful room now held two nurses and her doctor, all gowned up and ready to go. They had helped her get into the proper position and coached Jay on what he could do. Hailey was laid back, propped up slightly by a pillow with her legs spread open, feet resting in the stirrups. The epidural had greatly improved her pain but the pressure she felt was overwhelming. Jay had one arm wrapped around her shoulders while the other held her hand tightly. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against her temple as the doctor instructed her to start pushing. After a few tries, the pressure began to increase and Hailey let out a cry of pain. Jay spoke softly in her ear, trying his best to help her through this. Her hand gripped his so tightly he wasn’t sure he would regain feeling after this. Hailey let out another cry as she pushed again. 

“Jay..” She gasped, tears running down her face. “I can-...I can’t do this.”

“Yes you can. You’re doing great. Just take a breath.” He encouraged her, pressing a kiss against her temple. She bared down for another push, clamping her lips and closing her eyes, and then releasing when the doctor instructed her to do so. 

“One more big push Hailey, we’re almost there.” The doctor encourged. Hailey took another deep breath, giving another push and letting out a gut wrenching scream as the pressure peaked and then she felt a gush of release. Suddenly the sound of a crying baby filled the room and Hailey couldn’t help the sob from escaping her mouth. 

“Here he is.” The nurse came to the other side of her bed and placed the tiny baby on her bare chest. Hailey was full on sobbing now as she took in the small body atop hers. She reached a hand up, caressing his head as he continued to cry. 

“Jay...” Hailey sobbed out, glancing up to meet his eyes and seeing that tears had gathered within them. Jay placed his own hand over hers on the babies head and then bent down to give Hailey a kiss. 

“You did awesome.” The nurse said as she began wiping the baby down and swaddling him into a blanket on top of Hailey. 

“Yeah she did.” Jay said, looking at Hailey again before returning his stare to his son. They were allowed to enjoy the moment for a little while before the nurse came back and said she needed to do a few things with the baby. Another nurse came to her bedside and said she was going to help clean Hailey up. 

“Go tell Will. And I guess everyone else.” Hailey said, letting out a laugh from the rush of happiness she was experiencing. 

“Okay. Are you sure you’re good? I can stay?” Jay asked, not wanting to leave her side. 

“I promise. Go. I love you.” Hailey encouraged him. Jay bent down and gave her another kiss before heading out the door. 

Jay stood in the hallway for a moment, letting the last few hours finally settle in before he set off to find Will. Jay had sent him a quick text and Will said he would meet him in the lobby. Stepping out of the door that lead to the patient rooms, Jay found Will pacing between a row of chairs in the waiting room. As soon as Will saw him, he headed over and pulled him into an uncharacteristic hug. Jay reciprocated before pulling back to take out his phone.

“Here, look at him!” Jay grinned as he pulled up the picture he had snapped of Hailey and the baby. 

“Jay...” Will smiled, taking the phone and staring at the picture. “He’s perfect.” 

“Yeah. They both are.” Jay smiled, feeling moisture return to his eyes. The elevator doors dinged from behind them and suddenly loud commotion filled the waiting room. Jay turned and was surprised to see their entire unit filing into the room. He glanced at Will who shrugged, feigning innocence. 

“They were in the ER for a case when you text. I told them to play it cool but I don’t think that’s possible with that one involved.” Will sighed, nodding towards Vanessa. Jay looked over just as she closed the gap between them, throwing her arms around him in a hug. 

“Let me see that baby Halstead!” She exclaimed, bouncing up and down with excitement. He handed her the phone and jumped when she let out an excited squeal. Kevin came up behind her, glancing at the photo before giving Jay a fist bump. Voight came over then and gave him a hug, surprising almost everyone there. 

“Congratulations Jay. I’ve always felt like you were another son and now...well this is good Jay.” Voights gravelly voice spoke softly and Jay felt a rush of emotion at his sergeants words. He didn’t trust his voice so he simply nodded and smiled at Voight. Jay looked up then to see Adam and Kim lingering on the outskirts of the small crowd. When they saw him looking the slowly approached. Jay felt a slight pang, knowing what they must be thinking about right now and how this should have been them. Adam gave him a quick hug before taking the phone to see the picture. 

“Aw man, look at that little dude. He’s got your nose bro...not sure if that’s good or bad.” Adam teased, flinching when Jay punched his shoulder. Kim took the phone finally, a sad smile reaching her eyes as she took the picture in. 

“Congrats Jay. He looks wonderful.” She smiled up at him but he could see the tears gathering in her eyes. She blinked quickly and tried to blow it off. Jay didn’t draw attention to it and turned to face the group. 

“I better get back to Hailey. I’ll let you all know when she’s up for visitors.” Jay smiled and headed back towards the room containing his perfect new family. He walked into the room and couldn’t help the smile that was beaming across his face. Hailey was in bed, looking a little more put together with the nurses help and was holding the tiny bundle of blankets that was their son. Jay came to sit on the bed beside her, kissing the top of her head as he draped an arm over her shoulders. Hailey smiled up at him before gently rubbing her nose against the baby’s tiny one.

“Are we still settled on the name now that we’ve met him?” Jay asked quietly, taking in the tiny boy laying in her arms. 

“Yes. Elias Alexander Halstead.” Hailey whispered, gently kissing the babies head. 

“It’s perfect.” Jay said, smiling once again at his family.  

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 144

144

Curled around him, Lance basked in Keith’s warmth. His boyfriend his protector against their friends. Pidge, Hunk, Shiro and Curtis all waiting at VOLTRON for their return. There were lots of hugs, lots of apologising on his behalf. A lot of anxiety over Kosmo jumping up at his belly, his fun son had grown more than Lance realised. From a tiny pup awkward pup, he now stood just below hip height, but was still his precious baby. Keith a little too firm as Kosmo tried to stand up, paws on Lance’s belly, nearly making Lance vomiting, as he had done for the last half hour of the flight.

Then came the trek to the medical wing, too many people wanting to know if he was okay and if the twins were, and Pidge couldn’t stop staring at his belly, making him super uncomfortable. Coran had shooed them off, Lance suspecting he just wanted to have the first look at the ultrasound ahead of the others. Lance so not in the mood for it, making Coran agree to wait until the following day. He was still poked and prodded. Set up with two IV lines that he felt he didn’t need. Temperature and heart-rate taken. Forced into a clean set of clothes so he’d be “more comfortable”. He’d had a panic attack when they landed. He couldn’t find his mami’s bag, Rieva had already taken it down out of the luggage department.

He was wiped out, but then the others came back in. Pidge and Hunk tried to squeeze onto the bed, barely built for one, let alone four adults, and Kosmo who’d taken up prime position on his legs. Shiro and Curtis had come back thanks to the news of his Mami passing. Their condolences hurt to hear, on top of Pidge and Hunk both offering theirs again. Battling anxiety, Lance mostly let the others talk around him. A few times he’d nearly snapped when Pidge got too loud and Hunk cuddled just that fraction too close to Keith. His ego was being a dick, Lance no longer sure if his ego was making him worse, or him being worse was making his ego be a dick.

Things were much easier when the focus was shifted from him to Curtis’s horns. They were cute. Not great big monstrous things like a ram, but two black little nubs that went well with the black ring around his irises. Admittedly, Lance was expecting horns big enough for Shiro to hold onto them, and while he could, it’d barely be a palm full... Not that he wanted to think about Shiro riding Curtis, Pidge put the idea in his head and Lance was left to deal with it. He was happy about Curtis being safe and back, but his ego wasn’t thrilled. It very much felt slapped in the face, wanting to yell at them all to pay attention to Lance’s belly because twins were way cooler than horns.

Filling Lance in, he hadn’t seemed to miss much. They’d had lunch at Pidge’s parents, then dinner at Hunk’s house. Shay had come to dinner, and they’d done Christmas without him. Pidge excited at the prospect of a second Christmas when Keith “suggested” it. Hunk making huge plans to make it a “Welcome Home Party”. Lance using his current stay to plead out they wait until weekend, which would give him the Thursday and Friday to mentally prepare for peopling again, then using his fatigue to politely evict their friends group. Trying to evict Keith to go talk to his brother was like trying to pull two sheets of wet glass apart. It wasn’t happening. The vampire could smell Krolia on them, suspecting she was back, and waiting until they group thinned before coming to offer her condolences. Lance had enough of condolences. Enough of the heartfelt words. Each time he was sent back to Mami not waking. To trying to call Keith only to break his phone, and the pain of losing the one person who’d protected him for so long. It was easier with a heartfelt hug and and a mutual understanding it was hard.

Keith was asleep. He’d fallen asleep while Lance was left unable to shut his mind off. Nausea, coupled with stress and a throbbing headache left Lance awake more than his circling thoughts. Flying didn’t agree with him, even with his shoes sprinkled inside with his death soil. It helped abate the symptoms from flying, it just didn’t help when it came to an overactive mind and being squished by Keith who had his hand pressing against Lance’s belly, as if trying to protect him as he slept. Keith was too cute, and obviously relieved to see Shiro and Curtis had made it home safely.

Putting up with being squished as long as he could, Lance carefully set Keith’s hand on his hip, so he could slip free. Coran would no doubt be around shortly to check on him. He missed the way they used to be so close. Now it felt like Coran cared more for the twins than for him. If Coran had cared he’d have let them go back to Keith’s apartment, and cancelled the surprise of their friends waiting for them. He knew it was because Coran cared and worried for him that he hadn’t. Hugging Pidge, she seemed smaller than ever. Hunk just as solid and warm as a he remembered. He loved them too much. The loss of Mami driving home again how short and fragile human lives where when compared to his. Lance had made up his mind. He’d live as long Keith lived. A full life with his boyfriend and their children, until it was time for Keith to pass and they’d pass together. Never feeling the loss of that half of their souls. It was funny how he’d mocked the idea of soulmates mentally, and now it seemed the only term close to describing the degree of love he felt for Keith. He wanted to spend every day of their lives together, making new and happy memories, in a household filled with love.

*

Feeling the space beside him empty, Keith shot awake in panic. He’d been wiped out from the visit of their friends. They were so damn loud. Not that he wasn’t happy they’d been there to rip the anxiety bandage off Lance’s wounds, he simply wished they’d been there and quieter about it

“Babe?”

With the light on in the bathroom, and Kosmo also missing, Keith was drawn to it like a moth. Pushing the door open with his foot, Lance was sitting on toilet with his face in his hands. Kosmo laying near his feet. Keith had noticed each time Mami was mentioned that Lance would shy away. That wound too deep for a reunion to be a magic fix it all

“Babe?”

Looking up at him, Lance wiped his eyes

“Sorry. I couldn’t sleep”

The idiot had been crying alone...

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Headache and I feel sick...”

Walking over to his boyfriend, Keith felt for a fever as Lance bunted into the touch

“You feel warmerish... and I can smell you”

Lance blushed, hands going to cover his lap...

“Babe?”

“Don’t judge me”

Keith didn’t know what he was supposed to not be judging Lance over seeing he wasn’t judging him in the first place

“I’m not. I got a bit worried when you didn’t come back to bed”

“You were squashing the pee out of me... and then I just... felt so blah that I thought if I could... you know... I might be able to calm down... but I couldn’t...”

Oh. Lance was looking for a little stress relief after their long arse day

“You could have woken me up”

“And what would I have said? I can’t sleep, so suck me off?”

“Pretty much”

Keith’s knees cracked as squatted down, Lance blushing softly as he wouldn’t meet his eyes

“I’m not mad, and I’m not judging you”

“I feel stupid... I’m horny as hell and I shouldn’t be, but I don’t know... it just happens. I’m so fucking tired...”

He looked it too. And was tired enough to be honest that he wasn’t feeling that great

“Do you want me to get you off?”

Lance sighed deeply, angry as replied

“There’s no point... I tried but... I feel too sick... and I’m so frustrated...”

“Let me help”

“I told you...”

Lance needed release, his scent was begging Keith to touch him

“Not to brag about my sexual prowess, but I’m pretty sure I can give you exactly what you need”

“But what about you?”

“Babe, if you haven’t noticed, I love you. I love touching you. Just let me take care of things”

Lance nodded, moving his hands away to expose the damp spot on his sweats. Rather than wolfing down the meal, Keith wanted Lance to feel comfortable first. Kissing his boyfriend, Lance hesitated, slowly letting Keith take the lead. That he was kissing him back made Keith’s heart flip. Whining at him, Kosmo protested what his father’s were about to do, leading him to an overdue eviction.

Soaking wet, Lance’s wetness dribbled down his thighs, Keith lapping between Lance’s legs moaning at the taste of his lover. Bent over the bathroom sink, Lance’s legs were already shaking, arse jiggling as he rocked against Keith’s tongue. His boyfriend definitely pent, and already stretched so perfectly that Keith could have slipped right in. Wanting Lance to enjoy this, he also was aware that Lance was on edge. That he was exhausted and needed sleep, cutting Keith’s fun short as he rose to his feet, meeting eyes with Lance in the bathroom mirror

“You ready?”

“Mhmm... I tried... but... my fingers couldn’t reach...”

Shit. He’d have liked to see that. He loved watching Lance prep himself almost as much as he loved prepping him. Dizzy on Lance’s scent, his boyfriend smelt as if he was in heat, which shouldn’t be possible with Lance already being pregnant.

Sliding his hands up Lance’s sides, his boyfriend shuddered, wetness dribbling down Keith’s erection as he rutted up against him, missing pushing in on his first try

“You’re so fucking wet...”

Lance blushed

“Shut up”

“I didn’t say it’s a bad thing. Stick your arse back for me”

Spreading his legs, Lance stuck his ease back, Keith letting go of his side to guide himself into Lance’s heat, both men groaning in unison, as Keith slowly sank balls deep. Bring up his hand, he gripped Lance by the hip with his left hand, right hand moving to grope the vampire’s small left breast. Whimpering his name, it sounded pornographic

“Keith...”

“It’s okay, babe... let it out”

Rolling his hips, wetness smeared across Keith’s crotch. Drawing back then thrusting in caused a wet slapping of skin

“Keith... just... fuck... me properly”

Hard and fast, he could do that. Wrapping himself around his boyfriend, Keith fucked Lance as hard as he wanted. His boyfriend panting and they’d barely started. Not quite getting as deep as he wanted, Keith lifted Lance’s right leg, Lance incoherent, as their bodies rocked. God knew how good Lance felt around him. The way he tightened at having his leg lifted made it hard to move, as if his boyfriend was trying to squeeze his orgasm out of him as he drew him deeper

“I’m... Keith... don’t stop... I’m going to come...”

The slapping grew louder, Keith barely coherent. High as hell on Lance’s pheromones

“Shit, babe... come for me... you feel so fucking good... shit... shit... fuck, babe...”

“Mmm... Keith... Keith... nggm... ah... ahh...”

Lance tensed as he came, clamping hard around Keith, Keith coming just as hard inside his boyfriend, buried to the hilt and panting like he’d run a marathon. Shit... he hadn’t lasted long... Lance still smelt so damn good. Nosing at the crease between his boyfriend’s shoulder blades, Keith rode out his orgasm, hips stuttering yet still moving, caught up in Lance’s scent

“Fuck...”

He wanted more. So much more. He’d been pent up as he’d watched Lance from the swimming pool. All the little expressions Lance made while watching him. The way he’d duck his head or look away. He didn’t want his boyfriend looking at anyone other than him

“Keith?”

Sliding free, cum and wet dripped onto the floor, Keith rutting between his legs, causing his pregnant boyfriend to whine at him

“I’m sorry... you smell so good...”

“I wanna... kiss... I feel so... hot...”

So Lance was feeling this too? He wasn’t imagining it? The logical thing would to be ask Coran why Lance seemed in heat, but his head brain was on vacation leaving all the flowing blood to his dick

“Let’s go to bed... I want to do you again...”

Lance slowly nodded, Keith liked to think his was a smooth as boyfriend as he lowered his leg then swept him off his feet.

Laying Lance down on the hospital bed, Keith climbed up to cage him. His boyfriend wrapping his arm around him, as he claimed his mouth. Sinking his fangs lightly into Keith’s lip, Keith hissed, his lips had gotten used to not being bitten and he was reminded of how long it’d really taken to gotten used to Lance’s fangs. Not that he told his lover. He didn’t want him being sorry when he should be feeling good. Breaking the kiss, Lance licked the blood from his lips

“I feel... so hot...”

“You feel like you’re in heat”

“I can’t be... I’m having your babies...”

Shimmying back and down, Keith went for Lance’s chest. Tonguing at the small bud of Lance’s right nipple, Lance’s hands held his head to his chest, fingers threaded through Keith’s hair, hips rolling as Keith mouthed at the small mound

“Ahhh... careful... still... sensitive”

“I know...”

Lance seemed sensitive enough to come from having his nipples stimulated alone. Keith moving to mouth at his left nipple, Lance’s legs tightening as he knees pressed into his side’s

“Keith... Keith... don’t... not like... that...”

Nipping on Lance’s nipple, Lance whined, pulling his hair to pull him off

“Not there... it’s too much...”

“Mmm... but they’re cute”

Lance’s nipples seemed bigger, the colour had darkened, the bud feeling bigger between his teeth than they’d had before. Not pulled away far enough, he swiped his tongue up, Lance groaning loudly

“Keeeeeith... stop teasing, I don’t have the patience”

“You don’t have the patience to let me love your body”

“Fuck loving my body... I need you in me... feels empty... aren’t... I... good enough”

Keith rose back up, words falling between the kisses he pressed to Lance’s lips

“You are more than good enough...”

“Then... just... I want to...”

“I know, baby. I know... you’re body is so amazing... so open for me... think you can take me again”

Lance sat up as he wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck, nodding as he did, Keith moving his hands down to take Lance by the hips

“I want it...”

Nosing at Lance’s nose, Keith’s hands slid to try lift Lance by the arse

“Wrap your legs around me, babe. I’ve got you... gonna fuck you on my dick, just how you like...”

Lance was too cute. Riding his dick, Lance panted, legs spread and tummy on display. Tiny titties red from all the attention lavished on budding breasts. Sucking on his lover’s left breast, Lance stopped making sense somewhere around the time he nipped at his nipple. When his boyfriend finally grew tired from riding him, Keith laid him back down, spreading his legs wide, so he supported Lance by his calves and riding him hard. Lance’s pheromones increased his stamina, he already knew that from barely being able to keep up with Lance’s heat. Over and over again he drove into his boyfriend, Lance coming across his bouncing belly as Keith kept thrusting, wetness now soaked enough into the bedding his knees were damp. Coming for the second time, Keith finally felt a little calmer. Calm enough to pull out and slump across Lance, mindful of his lover’s precious belly, as he caught his breath. Lance bringing a hand up to rest on his head, long caramel legs wrapped loosely around him. Kissing Lance’s cooling skin, his boyfriend still smelt sweet.

“Babe?”

“Mmm...”

“You okay?”

“Mhmm...”

“Okay”

That was good. Good that Lance was okay. The room smelt of them and their sex, Keith quietly content for now... or at least the next five minutes.

[basic-btsbitch]

The Shadow Man part 1

Min Yoongi x reader supernatural au/????????? au

Words - 2243

AN -  ok guys be nice this is the first time ive seriously tried to write in years, lmk what you think! ill try to post the next part next week if i can!

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

The shadow man has always been there, as long you could remember. By all means you should have been terrified of him, but he’s never done anything to hurt you. In fact he seemed almost protective of you. Always keeping his distance, and yet still watching over you. You rarely see him in full. Most of the time you can tell he’s there by the flash of darkness on the edge of your vision, and the feeling of being watched. Never giving you the chance to get a good look at him.

There’s been no interaction other than the one-sided conversations you’ve whispered into the void hoping for a response. The questions you asked in childhood, and continued to ask as you grew older were never answered. That is until now…

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

In all honesty you probably should have just called a cab instead of walking home from the restaurant you waitress at. Not that it’s particularly far, just a couple blocks. It still definitely wasn’t one of your best ideas over all.

It had only taken a couple of minutes of walking in the dark, for you to pass a dark alley. Soon after passing the sketchy area you heard the tell tale sound of heavy footsteps following. You shot a quick glance behind you only to spot your follower. A tall man with a scruffy unshaven face prowling after you. His clothes were dirty and wrinkled, while his hand held a cigarette that he brought up to his mouth to puff on. When the man saw your fearful look, his mouth widened into a creepy grin that made your stomach drop.

Immediately you pick up the pace only to hear the footsteps behind you quicken as well. At this point you broke into a run, while fumbling through your pockets for your phone. Unfortunately it was too late as you hear him sprint up behind you, his fingers run through your hair only for him to grip a large chunk of it, and pull.

A loud shriek ripped from your lips as you’re forced to stop. He used this moment to pull you in towards his body, his other hand coming up hard against your mouth stopping your shout as it started. Tears started running freely down your face in tracks. You can smell the alcohol, and smoke on his breath when he presses his mouth to your ear to whisper into it.

“If you’re a real good girl,and do what I say. I won’t have to hurt you too b-“ With a loud choked noise he is both cut off, and ripped from your back. Immediately you are dropped to your hands and knees, the gravel tearing through your pants and into the skin.

You stay there on the ground for a moment shocked, the tears continuing on their path down your face. It takes another moment for you to shakily turn over to look at your attacker.

There laying on the sidewalk before you was the man, on top of him sat your shadowy savior. One dark limb clutched onto the front of the man's shirt harshly, the other was delivering a flurry of blows to his face. A quiet fearful noise sounded in the back of your throat at the sight. The shadow seemed to flinch, and stop at the sound of the noise. After a moment he gave one more forceful punch to the man's jaw, surely putting him out for a while.

Without turning to face you the shadow man dropped your attacker, and stood up. His hand dropped to his side dripping blood onto the concrete below. Then the shadow seemed to hunch over, and curl into itself slightly. He sort of turned, or maybe glanced at you before turning away. It was quick like he was almost scared to look at you? Slowly he started to just walk away from your form huddled on the ground, but this time you wouldn't let him leave.

“Hey! Hey wait!” You shouted at the retreating shadow as you scrambled to your feet. The sound of your voice brings him to a stop once more. He turned towards you, but stood his ground as you started towards him.

The closer you got to him the clearer his form got. He went from a sort of a wispy figure with blurred edges to a human shaped dark spot with defined edges, and just barely perceivable features. Honestly you couldn’t really tell what he looked like, but when he had turned you were able to see the outline of his face. You could see the slope of his nose, the rise of his cheekbones, and the flop of hair on his forehead ending just over where his eyes would be. The edges of his face are slightly visible, but shadowed. As you edged closer staring at him, his shoulders slumped inwards as his head hung.

“Um… thank you for helping me.” You stuttered out, pulling at your sleeves a bit. With that his shoulders relaxed significantly.

“Oh, of course.” He said almost as a whisper. The shadow’s voice was low, and gentle. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” With a bow he turned once more to walk away. You had mere moments to decide what to do.

“Wait, don't go! I’m not scared of you.” The words seemed to come out of your mouth before you even had a chance to think about it. The shadow froze with a small gasp. “I, um, I was wondering if you would walk me home?” You asked quietly, trying to do anything to get him to stay just a little longer.

A pregnant pause passed causing you to start questioning yourself. Were you wrong about him? Does he want nothing to do with you? The thoughts rushed through your head, too many worries passing through.

With one smooth motion he turned to the side giving you another view of his profile. He stared off into nothing before he turned his head to you, seemingly considering you for a moment before speaking. It took only one question from him to both get rid of your fears, and break your heart.

“You’re not afraid?” He spoke the three words so delicately. Like he was hopeful, but didn't quite believe them. Just the fact that he seemed to think you would be lying was shocking. He’d followed you like, well like a shadow since you were small, and he had never tried anything. He’d never crossed any lines, or boundaries. You’d even attempted to talk to him on several occasions.

“No!” It had come out of your mouth in a rush surprising you before you continued. “I mean you did protect me.” You provided then looked back down. eyes sweeping past your dirty work shirt, and jeans with the knees ripped out from your fall. Down to the ground, where your sight stayed. What you didn't know was that while you were inspecting the cracks in the pavement, the shadow in front of you was staring at you in shock. It took so long for him to snap out of it, the worries started to come back.

Did he not actually want to help you? Was he stuck with you or something? What if he hated you…

“I’ll walk you home,” he said finally. Your eyes snapped back up to the shadow’s obscured face. “But we should go before he wakes up.” He muttered with a head jerk towards the unconscious man behind you.

You quickly agree, and start back on your way home. The shadow circled around you, placing himself between you and the road. This time you would go home with your shadow next to you instead of trailing behind. Several moments of silence stretched between you till you decided to break it.

“So do you have a name?” You ask with a side glance towards him.

“Oh uh, yeah. It’s Min Yoongi.” He responded slowly. His deep voice was a bit gravely, and still a bit strange for you to hear.

“Min Yoongi.” You repeated, testing it out. It’s nice to finally have a name for him. “That’s a nice name, I like it!” You decided with a smile. His steps stuttered again for a second before he stepped into stride with you once more.

“You do?” Yoongi questioned quietly, his head turned towards you as you walked. As his head turns you can see the edges of his features again. It’s strange there's little to no reflection of light that shone down on him from the streetlamps that passed above you every so often as you walked. He was just a human shaped void, walking and talking in time with you. The gentle slope of his face, and the hair that moved on his forehead when he moved his head, was a dark spot next to you. His hand reached and tugged a bit on what you assumed to be his ear.

“Of course,” You replied with a smile. It’s a little odd to only be able to partially perceive him. Without facial features, and expressions, it was difficult for you to be sure how he felt about it.

You two quickly settled down into a silence once more, it wasn't awkward though, more companionable then anything. It was another block before you voiced another thought that had occurred to you over the years.

“Can other people see you?” you asked him, suddenly breaking the silence. You looked down at the passing cement below, before glancing at him next to you through the corner of your eyes.

Yoongi made a deep humming noise before responding.

“A few…” he finally admitted. His hand reached up again to scratch at the area round where his right ear would be.

You considered this new information for a moment before continuing your line of questioning. It was about time you asked what you really wanted to know.

“Why did you hide from me for so long?” you asked in a rush. “I mean I thought I was crazy, I would see you out of the corner of my eye, then you’d just be gone. Sometimes I’d spot you, and call out to you, only for you to disappear again.” Now that you knew he wasn't some hallucination that your mind came up with out of boredom or loneliness, you wanted to know why.

“Honestly I thought you'd be terrified of me.”Yoongi responded simply with a shrug before continuing. “I didn’t want to frighten you so I tried to keep you from seeing me, not that it worked too well. You’re too curious for your own good.”

You let out a little laugh and a scoff at the slight jab. A quick glance around let you know that you were close to the walkway leading to the large brick building your little apartment was in. Who knows how long Yoongi’ll allow you to see him, or ask him things. It’s time for the big one, the obvious question you had skirted around.

“So, what are you?”

It was the question he’d expected from the very start of the conversation. It was also a question he’d asked himself in the mirror many times over the years.

“I’m not actually sure…” came the mildly confused answer. Yoongi sounded so unsure, that as you came to the steps leading up to your apartment, you just stopped and turned to him. It took another moment for him to continue.

“I was human, but it’s been a while since then,” he put his hands out like he was examining them for a moment. “ A friend of mine thinks I’m some sort of Specter, or well a shadow of myself.”

None of that really answered what you’d asked in your opinion, but at this point you’d take what you could get.

“Well you're here, so I’ll just go..” Yoongi muttered pointing off in the direction you’d just come from. He then started on his way down the sidewalk, only to stop when you called out to him for the last time that night.

“Will you come back??” You blurted out. “I mean will you let me see you again?” You couldn’t help but ask. When faced with the possibility of answering some of the biggest questions of your life, you just had to know.

A low noise came from Yoongi as he appeared to consider you and your question. Then all at once the shadow seemed to make up his mind. He quickly turned to face you fully.

“As long as you want me to, I’ll come back to you.” Then with a short bow of his head Yoongi quickly walked off to join the rest of the shadows in the dark street.

It took several moments for you to collect your thoughts enough to walk into the small lobby of your apartment building. Questions raced through your heads a million miles a minute as you got into the elevator and hit the third floor button.

Honestly all you wanted to do was lay down. The adrenaline and wonder of your attack and encounter was starting to wear off. Immediately after locking your front door, you walked into the one bedroom in your apartment and plopped face down on the bed.

There was a full argument with yourself on whether you truly needed to get changed for bed. After changing into your comfiest pajamas, it was bedtime.

Time to sleep for 16 hours.

[manitamuerte]

Tarkin’s Folly - Ch. 2

Pairing: Armitage Hux x Enyo Tarkin (OC) Word Count: 2,001 Tags: Canon-Compliant until TROS, Awkward Romance, Emotionally Repressed Hux, Fixing Canon With A Hammer

Summary: Admiral Tarkin’s presence on the Steadfast is of no comfort to General Hux. The lofty weight of her family name and the reputation which proceeds her does not bode well for his future on High Command. [Read it on AO3] —

ADMIRAL TARKIN STOOD AT THE END OF THE LONG AND GLOSSY BLACK TABLE.

She quietly waited for the Supreme's Leader permission to speak, which he gave to her with a slightly bored wave of his hand. Hux could make out the slight eagerness he masked with the gesture, watching the way his shoulders relaxed as he sat in the place of honor. The General quickly turned his head so that Ren wouldn't catch him looking.

Admiral Tarkin's voice held a clear and grandiloquent quality begotten from her Eriaduian accent, which was a borrowed dialect of the Core-World's Basic – made sharp by Imperial Remnant influence. "Allegiant General Pryde and Supreme Leader Kylo Ren have asked me to prepare and present a simple evaluation of any of the high-ranking officers currently serving here on the Steadfast. I was allowed to pick anyone of my own choosing, and provide my own materials as I saw fit."

Hux felt his stomach drop. Tarkin had to know how Pryde and Ren felt about him, and she'd truly be foolish if she didn't leap on the opportunity to disparage him again in front of all the others. He knew he was the weakest link on the Council. This would be like a final nail in the coffin of his failed career, a springboard for which she could use the momentum to further her own. And if she truly was a Tarkin-- then she was no fool.

In the week she had been on board, Hux had not had a single chance to speak with the woman -- nor had much time to even consider her presence much besides on the first day of her arrival. Ren had him running off on unimportant missions, personally seeing to it that his day-to-day life was absolutely miserable even when he could not physically be there to see it.

Admiral Tarkin's grey-blue eyes pierced his skull as she turned her gaze to him for a brief moment, causing him to avert his own. Some at the table squirmed uncomfortably, either knowing the sequence of events about to happen and pitying Hux -- or more likely: Worried that her report would be about them.

She pulled a small holoprojector device from her pocket and activated it. An image of a grid and a flat rendition of D'Qar appeared and spread out over the table, and Hux immediately knew what sort of awfulness was about to transpire.

"If you could all draw your attention to the holoprojector, please. This is a representation of the failed engagement at D'Qar," She began, her voice settling in a calm and practiced lilt. "As I'm sure you all know, The Resistance was able to flee from this encounter despite the odds being heavily in First Order favor."

From the corner of his eye, Hux saw Ren lean forward in his chair with interest -- but felt the helmeted man's heavy gaze on his own countenance, watching him for any sort of reaction. He tried very hard not to give him the satisfaction, but a lump was forming in his throat that he had to swallow eventually.

"The active ships in the engagement are as follows:" As she spoke the names, the images appeared on the grid in formation. "One Mandator-IV Class C Siege Dreadnaught called the Fulminatrix, and Three Resurgent-Class Battlecruisers --plus, later, our scrambled Tie-Fighters. This was against the Resistance's One MC85 Star Cruiser, several MG-100 StarFortress SF-17's, several small squadrons of X and A-Wings. There were other Resistance ships present, but not strictly combat builds. To remind you, The Resistance was in the process of evacuating from their base of D'Qar and thus not in any sort of intelligent formation."

"Thankfully," She continued, "Their base planet-side was destroyed by the Fulminatrix's commander Captain Moden Canady. Our ships came upon the planet from hyperdrive, however you must note the formation that the ships are locked into."

The clear tactical mistake was on display for everyone to see. Hux's eyes averted from the grid, unable to take the wave of shame which washed over him. He felt Ren's eyes.

"The Resistance was able to drop a payload and destroy the Fulminatrix at the end of the engagement and escape due to many errors, including a delayed scrambling of our Tie-Fighters, as well as allowing an enemy ship behind our lines to take out all surface point-defense of the Dreadnaught. "

Hux had known the Resistance was failing, that this evacuation had been a last-ditch effort to survive. If he had simply destroyed them without the fanfare he was hoping to use for propaganda -- this would have been their final stand. His hubris haunted him -- He could have been in Pryde's place, promoted. He could have been hailed and applauded as the man who had finally stamped out the Resistance. But now he was forced to sit through a demonstration about how terrible of a commander he had once been -- a mistake, a moment of weakness -- and it's forevermore a mark against his otherwise impeccable file. Well, this and the fall of Starkiller base.

The holovid continued forward, the ships changing position. "Furthermore, I believe it was pure negligence and miscommunication which lead to the death of our personnel and the loss of the Fulminatrix. The battle formation as depicted is simply inefficient. To the point, the very sight of it makes one wonder if the commander of the engagement -- General Hux -- was purposefully sabotaging."

Hux jolted in his chair. How dare she accuse him of such a treasonous act? It was fine that she criticize him, but that was a measure too far. He felt his face grow hot in anger. His eyes locked with hers for a brief moment. He was surprised to find her expression was devoid of emotion.

"I have suggestions for how the engagement should have been handled." She clicks the holoprojector, playing a few more seconds of the holovid before pausing. The ships shift on the grid once more. "As you can see, this formation makes more sense. The battlecruisers would take escort position as I believe was intended, and thus would have the ability to create a defensive line for our Dreadnaught." The holovid illustrates this perfectly, and continues to animate as she speaks. "Furthermore, the Tie-Fighters should have been scrambled immediately, to take out the flotilla before it drew near. As an aside, I would have had the Dreadnaught prioritize the base just before or immediately after targeting the MC85 Star Cruiser -- if they had nowhere to go, the Resistance would have to take a moment to regroup and think of a new plan. This hesitation would have been our moment to attack. We direct our Tie-Fighters to clean up the survivors, and the Resistance would have been crushed."

The animation shows the rest of the ships being destroyed, then finishes. The blue glow of the projection ceases, and she places the holoprojector back into her pocket.

Ren is the first to speak, voice clipped by the vocoder of his helmet. "I applaud your...Subdued aggressiveness, Admiral Tarkin. To accuse General Hux of treason is not the angle I expected, but amusing. Furthermore, although it was not your task to come up with them -- your suggestions are...Noted."

Hux felt like a stone was lodged in his throat.

Tarkin’s face does not pale as a lesser person's might, though perhaps it was because she read Ren's comment as the compliment it was while discarding it's back-handedness. She stares right into the visor of Ren's mask. "I only provided the facts as I saw them, Supreme Leader. I expect my charges to go above and beyond in their tasks, and I uphold myself to my own standards."

"A commendable trait of anyone in a leadership position, indeed." Ren mutters, leaning ever forward. Hux hated the way he said it, in that voice he used when he pantomimed responsible authority. "However, it would do you well to be careful that your aspirations do not exceed you, Admiral."

Her mouth twitches downward, the confident mask cracking ever so slightly. This seems to be the result Ren wanted, because he leans back in his chair, looking smug and satisfied even with the helmet on his head. "Of course, Supreme Leader --” She answers, “Wise council indeed."

Ren defers to Pryde, nearly cutting off the end of Tarkin's sentence. "And what do you think, Allegiant General?"

Pryde seems to perk up considerably, his posture tense. "I believe her presentation to have been satisfactory, Supreme Leader."

Ren's voice is tight. "But what do you think, Allegiant General?" He presses. Pryde's face conceals his panic well.

"...Admiral Tarkin's suggestions are spot-on, and if I remember correctly, Captain Canady had also expressed displeasure with General Hux's methods before his untimely death. The engagement was a failure, through and through -- our victory at D'Qar quite phyrric for both involved--"

"Make no mistake, Allegiant General. The miscommunication was on Captain Canady's part." Tarkin interrupted, her voice sharp and eyes laser focused on her target. It was suddenly clear to Hux that she did not like Pryde in the least, which was of some – little – comfort. "The comms history shows General Hux attempted to have the Captain launch the Tie-Fighter squadrons upon exiting hyperspace. The problem was his lack of further correction. Captain Canady seemed to have misunderstood the order as preparation of launch only -- though I couldn't say why. I believe this was likely due to his personal feelings about the General, as I understand it. It is a disgrace." She spat the final word like it was poison. "I suspect we ask more of our officers, do we not? We shouldn't let personal grievances or opinions cost us valuable tech and personnel in the midst of engagements."

Hux was felt a cold sweat begin to break upon his brow. His embarrassing past was no secret, but he hated that she knew. Everyone knew. Canady, Pryde -- all the older ex-Imperial officers. Friends of his father. They watched him grow up, and even though he was nearing his 35th year many of them still saw him as a child and a mere extension of his father. A failed extension, even.

Pryde's face immediately flushed with anger, both from being talked down to by a lower officer and from understanding her underlying meaning. He did not chastise her with the Supreme Leader present, realizing Ren's lack of protest meant her comments were allowed. "...Of course, Admiral."

From his peripherals, Hux watched the Supreme Leader's helmet slowly turn to his side of the table. The tightness of Ren's voice was gone, instead replaced with barely filtered amusement. "General Hux, what do you have to say for yourself? Admiral Tarkin has suggested you appear so incompetent that it looks like purposeful sabotage."

The General grit his teeth, gnashing them in agony. Ren was enjoying this way too much -- and he wondered if he really set this all up just for the express purpose of his own amusement. It certainly wouldn't be out of character, that's for sure.

When Hux spoke, his voice remained level but wavered at the edges with hesitation."I am, of course, appalled at the accusations of treason suggested by Admiral Tarkin -- however, I must agree that the engagement at D'Qar was poorly executed."

Pryde snorted. "Of course you do, Hux. It's plain as anyone can see." Hux noticed Ren stiffen at Pryde's sudden outburst, curiously turning to face the Allegiant General but saying nothing.

"...Have you anything further to add, General Hux?" Was what Ren did say, after a moment of tense silence.

"...No, Supreme Leader."

"And you, Admiral Tarkin?" Ren asked, his helmet tilting slightly to suggest his gaze shifting.

"No, Supreme Leader." She echoed, sounding the smallest bit pleased with herself. Hux stole a moment to glance at her face and was not surprised to find a smug expression on it. He averted his eyes to the table like a kicked dog.

"...Very Well. You are all dismissed."

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (125/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[7 July, 233 Before Age. Fytpall IV.]

They told stories on Fytpall IV, of a creature that slept at the bottom of the wine-dark sea. Immeasurably old, it had lain dormant for undreaming eons, and one day it would awaken and resume whatever unfathomable business it had upon the surface. It was said that the creature was indescribable, and all who saw it were driven mad by its appearance. Even the fish knew to avoid that part of the sea, and so it was utterly devoid of life.

The legend was mostly true, although the Fytpallians had overestimated the creature somewhat. Gorath'th the Defiler of Souls was eminently describable. It had a body somewhat like a carnivorous dinosaur, only its skin was smooth and slimy like a frog's, and at the end of its long neck was a jawless mouth ringed with pointed teeth. Tentacles would snake out of its throat when it ate, and it had a eerily humanoid eye on the center of its chest. Instead of fingers or toes, its limbs ended with thousands of hair-like cilia.

Also, contrary to the Fytpallian tradition, Gorath'th would never reawaken, as it had been accidentally killed during a battle between Luffa and the Jindan Saiyans who had invaded Fytpall a week earlier. The invaders had tried to lure Luffa underwater, hoping that they would find an advantage there, but instead she unleashed a massive ki attack, as she believed there were no innocent life forms in the area to get caught in the blast. And this was true enough, for the Defiler of Souls was by no means "innocent." Gorath'th was vaporized in its sleep, never knowing what had destroyed it. Would such an ancient and unknowable horror have felt humiliation over such an ignoble death? Probably. Gorath'th was a lot more insecure about these things than anyone knew.

The irony was that the enormous explosion that had destroyed Gorath'th hadn't even been meant to kill anything. Luffa had only used it as a diversion. While her two enemies moved off to escape the range of the attack, Luffa propelled herself through it, just so she could catch one of them off guard and drive her fist into his face. A normal Saiyan would have been killed on impact, but the Jindan power had made this one strong enough to survive. That was fine. She was quite satisfied to simply break his jaw. That would be enough to keep him from saving his comrade.

The Jindan Saiyans were stronger than ordinary Saiyans, but they were still no match for Luffa in a one-on-one scenario. Accordingly, they worked in squads of at least six. Luffa countered this strategy by splitting them up and picking them off one at a time. Now, she closed in on her true prey, a Saiyan woman with scars running down both sides of her face. She had looked very confident in herself when she had been flanked by seven teammates, but now she was alone. Luffa struck her hard enough to knock her out of the water like a missile. She flew after Scarface and battered her with her fists every time she was close enough to strike. By the time Broken Jaw recovered--if he ever recovered--Scarface would be too badly hurt to help him.

The key, Luffa had found, was to resist the urge to finish her enemies off. That was what they expected her to do, after all, and she had found it was best to keep switching targets as quickly as possible. She sensed Bald Guy pulling himself together from the beating she had given him a thousand miles away, while Kidney Punch seemed to be alive, but he had lost the will to fight. The other four--Shorty, Screamer, Kinda Cute, and Head Wound-- were already dead. She would kill them all eventually, but it was important to keep them from regrouping or formulating any kind of plan. Her right knee and left shoulder were still bothering her, and while she was certain that she could kill four Jindan Saiyans at once, she couldn't take that chance. She had been fighting battles like this on a dozen planets already, and each one had taken a toll on her body. If she allowed herself to take too much damage on any one battle, then she would risk losing the war.

Luffa refused to let that happen. Dying in any one battle would rob her of the battles yet to come. That was what she told herself. It was easier than facing the real reasons.

[4 July, 233 Before Age. Buulprind III.]

The city was utterly ruined. The Jindan Saiyans who destroyed it were all dead, and Luffa was overdue to join another battle on Fytpall. But her own ship was hours away, and the transport she had planned to use had been destroyed in the battle. There were other ships, but the spaceports and shipyards were in disarray.

And she needed medical attention. Under different circumstances, Luffa might have simply taken the first spaceworthy vessel available, and headed for her next mission without bothering to bandage her wounds. But she had been too slow this time, and she knew she couldn't afford to lose any more strength. And so, she found a hospital in what remained of the city and waited for someone to treat her.

Unable to sit still for any length of time, she roamed the halls, occasionally helping herself to rolls of bandages. On the sixth floor, she found a woman sobbing over an unoccupied bed. There were a lot of people crying in this place. Some didn't cry. They just stared blankly, as though still registering what had happened to them.

"I couldn't get them all in time," Luffa said from the doorway. She hadn't meant to speak these words aloud. It wasn't until the civilian looked up and noticed her that Luffa realized she had said anything. The woman took one look at her and rose to her feet.

"I'm sorry," Luffa said. "Didn't mean to disturb you."

"Are you all right?"

The woman began to fuss over Luffa's bandages. She had applied them rather sloppily, and several of them were soaked with blood. Before Luffa could object, the woman was close enough to notice her tail.

"You're the Federatrix," she said. "Luffa."

"Yeah," Luffa said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, even as she still wiped the tears from her eyes. "These bandages are a mess. Who put these on?"

"Uh, I did," Luffa said.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, you did a better job that I could have done before yesterday," she said. "One of the nurses downstairs finally showed me how."

Luffa watched, but not very carefully. Mostly, it was just an excuse to look away, and to avoid saying anything.

"They won't come back, will they? The Saiyans, I mean."

"No," Luffa said. "I mean, not these Saiyans. I killed them. But there might be others. Sometimes they hide and try to ambush me, or wait for me to leave the planet."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't fast enough to stop them. I didn't think they would blow up the city like they did, not while they were fighting with me."

"Well, you're hurt," the woman said. "I'm sure you did the best you could."

"How'd you end up here?" Luffa asked. She had been trying to steer clear of this topic, but something about the word "best" made her desperate to talk about anything else.

"I brought... It's stupid, really. He was... there was nothing they could do for him. After the blast, I went looking for help. I told him I'd come back for him. But it took me hours to find help, and they couldn't go back right away. There just wasn't enough... He was unconscious when they finally found him, and he'd lost so much blood... They took him into surgery an hour ago, and they'll do what they can, but..."

Her voice started to crack and she set her jaw as she continued to work on Luffa's bandages. "Well, it's not important now. You've seen how it is here. There's plenty of other people who can be helped. I can't just hide in here forever."

She seemed to gather strength as she spoke, and when she was done with Luffa's bandages, she clasped one of her hands into her own.

"Thanks," she said. "I needed a kick in the pants to get me motivated again."

"What?" Luffa asked. "I didn't mean to--"

But the woman wasn't listening. "You've been protecting us all, fighting with everything you have, in spite of your injuries. I don't know how you Saiyans can do it, but it's inspiring to have someone like you on our side. Someone who never gives up."

Luffa's eyes widened and she pulled away. "I... I have to go."

"Oh, of course. I didn't meant to take up your time. You should really have a doctor take a look at you..."

But Luffa had already run out into the hallway, and through the nearest window to escape into the sky...

*******

[7 July, 233 Before Age. Fytpall IV.]

It wasn't the joy of battle, or even the guilt she felt over innocent lives she had been unable to save. Both of those emotions were there, of course. As she kicked a Saiyan hard enough to shatter his pelvis, she couldn't help but enjoy it, and worry that it might not be enough.

But besides these feelings, what coursed through her heart was a very particular dread. She was doing the "best she could". She was the Super Saiyan, which meant that, by definition, her best was the best that any Saiyan could do, anywhere, ever.

Failure was one thing. Luffa had failed before. Her mother had taught her at an early age to get back up and try again. As much as she grieved for the civilian casualties in this conflict, she accepted it as part of the nature of war. The problem for Luffa was that when she wasn't good enough, it meant that the entire Saiyan race wasn't good enough.

Broken Jaw tried to take Luffa's head off with a blade of concentrated ki energy. She dodged it with inches to spare and responded with an energy blast from her mouth. A glancing blow, but good enough for the moment.

For a time, she had believed that a protracted battle with other Saiyans would be satisfying. Now, she wasn't so sure. In the end, they always seemed to fight just like all the other aliens and monsters she had encountered. They were just more familiar to her, in a way. Was that all the Saiyan species really was? King Rehval had boasted about shaping the destiny of the Saiyan people, and Luffa herself had always believed that the Saiyans were capable of an inherent greatness. But time after time, the Saiyans always seemed to fall short of her expectations. She was the best one, and if she was disappointed with herself, what hope was there for the rest of them?

There was no hope at all for Kidney Punch. Luffa finished him off with a Vengeance Canon through the heart. He died a warrior's death, but Luffa knew that was an empty statement. He was no courageous warrior, just a flunky in Trismegistus' mad cult. He had come to this planet to die in a useless battle, and perhaps to kill as many people as he could before death finally caught up to him. If by some miracle he had survived, he would have returned to his master's side, and lived out his days as a pathetic joke of what a Saiyan was supposed to be.

She couldn't get the woman from the hospital out of her mind. She had seen that kind of grief before. Luffa had experienced it firsthand, when she failed to save the Dorluns all those years ago. When she lost her son to the treachery of Kandai and the Tikosi. And yet, these civilians that she had failed, who were too weak to defend themselves, they seemed to bear their suffering far better than any Saiyan. To be so overcome with pain, and then to carry on helping others like that.

And that woman had said Luffa had inspired her. It shamed her to even think about it. These people of the Federation had been mostly an afterthought to Luffa. She cared about them, to a point, but they had never really been high on her list of priorities. She had defended them mostly in the abstract. Other than Extraliga, she had never spent much time among their people, or their soldiers. Now, Luffa was beginning to take some pride in them.

She wasn't sure how to feel about that. Luffa had hoped that fighting these last few cultists on Fytpall might distract her from that heavy feeling in her chest. As she tracked down Scarface, she decided that it wasn't distracting her at all. Scarface was too badly hurt to do much more than beg for her life. Perhaps it just as well that the people of the Federation gave Luffa something to be proud about. The Saiyan people didn't seem to have much to offer.

*******

[8 July, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

Treekul's hair had grown to nearly three-quarters of an inch in length, for she had been without her hair trimmer for some time. Despite her confinement on this planet, surrounded by Saiyan cultists, hair growth was the most frustrating burden for her. Treekul took a private comfort in repeatedly trimming her scalp, but Rehval had forbidden this during her "apprenticeship". He said this was to discipline her mind, but she suspected that he just did these things for his own amusement.

She was late for today's "lesson", but Rehval never seemed too concerned with her punctuality. If one of his cultists stepped out of line, he would have them severely punished, but she was different. The only non-Saiyan on the planet, Treekul was never indoctrinated into their belief system. Instead, he made her a priestess and gave her a free hand to wander around his underground compound. This was all balanced by the fact that she was powerless to escape, and had no real way to resist him.

"Your distillate was very well done, Treekul," he said as she entered the chamber leading into his private laboratory. "You have some real talent."

"Look, I don't want to sound ungrateful," she said, "but why are you bothering training me at all? The war with the Federation, your vendetta against Luffa, running this cult of yours. Not to mention brewing up the Jindan potion you use to give them all that extra power you promise them. And I guess you're still the Saiyan King, even if everyone around here only knows you as Trismegistus. You've got enough on your plate already, don't you?"

"You've answered your own question," he said. "A king is only exceptional among his subjects. Surround him with other kings, and his crown becomes commonplace. So too does a teacher lose standing outside of a classroom. An alchemist loses grandeur when compared to other alchemists. A Saiyan becomes insignificant in a crowd of Saiyans. But a man who can be a king and an alchemist! A teacher and a deity. A Saiyan and a diplomat."

There were bottles and equipment arranged on her lab bench, but he was focused on a large pot of water that was suspended over a flame. Every few seconds, he sprinkled leaves and red powder into the pot, then stared intently at the surface of the liquid.

"Are you a fortune teller, too?" Treekul asked.

"You recognize the technique," Rehval said. "I'm impressed."

"I'm not an alchemist, I just study their history," Treekul replied. "I wouldn't be much good at that if I didn't know a scrying pool from a retort."

"Luffa is on Fytpall," he said. "By morning, my followers there will be dead."

"You don't sound too concerned about that," Treekul said.

"They give their lives for a higher purpose," he said.

"Level with me," Treekul said. "I'm not exactly in a position to expose your plans, and no one here would believe me if I told your secrets. What's this war of yours really for, anyway? Is it just a diversion for some other plan? Or are you really trying to kill off your own people?"

"Not at all," he said with a chuckle. "If one of them manages to kill Luffa, I would reward him beyond his wildest imaginations. Or her, but to be honest, I don't think any of the women in my fold would ever stand a chance. But for the men at least, it's not impossible, just very unlikely."

"Then why bother sending them?" Treekul asked.

"To wear her down," Rehval explained. "Before, I made the mistake of luring her to my home. I thought it would give me the advantage, but she escaped, and destroyed a lot of things I considered precious. I see now that that the only way to defeat her is by force. Not a single, decisive strike, but through attrition. My followers will chip away at her, little by little, across dozens of worlds. She seems to be healing between battles, but she still has to travel from planet to planet to block my offensives."

"What if she just quits?" Treekul suggested. At last, Rehval looked up at her, and his glare made her regret the question.

"You don't understand anything," Rehval said. "She's not just some general, like the ones you probably studied in your history books. She is a force of nature. As I rise up to claim supremacy over the Saiyan race-- and through them, the entire universe-- she rises up to oppose me. Force, counterforce. She would never back down from this challenge, and even if she did, it would only prove that she is not the threat I took her for."

"Oh," Treekul said, not understanding any of this. "Why didn't you just say so before?"

"You would understand if you had met her like I did," Rehval muttered. "If you had seen the wild look in her eyes, felt the raw intensity of her ki. No. No, she's the one. Nature resists alchemy, my dear. Each reaction, every shortcut, every convenience we make, there is a price that nature demands in return. A shrewd practitioner knows how to reach a fair bargain. This scrying pool only demands a few drops of blood, and the caloric from the fire. A glimpse into the future doesn't cost much, if that's all you seek. But my goal is to change the universe itself, and so the price I must pay is nothing less than the head of my nemesis. I was a fool to think she could ever be convinced to join me, but I had to try. Yes... I had to try. She's far too magnificent a woman... far too magnificent indeed..."

The one good thing about this rambling, Treekul thought, was that he was obsessing over some other woman, instead of herself. It wasn't much comfort to her, though. "You wanted to show me something, Boss?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Yes, of course," he said. "Your performance on your last few exercises proves that you're ready to take a more hands-on approach with the cult."

"Huh?" Treekul asked.

"I want you to administer the Jindan potion, Treekul," Rehval said. "One day, I may have you manufacture it yourself, but for now, I just want you to oversee the ritual with the next class of recruits. It will help you understand how it works."

"I... I thought they just..." Treekul mimicked the act of drinking from an imaginary cup, and gulped for emphasis.

"Oh, that's definitely part of it," Rehval said. "But the rituals before that are important for preparing the subject. Heh. If you just drank the principal elixir by itself... well, I'd show you what happened to some unruly followers when they tried it, but... there isn't really anything left of them to see."

"Oh," Treekul said. Without realizing it, she took a step backward. He had been so calm and composed around her before. Almost friendly. But each time she met him, the gentle self-assured confidence seemed to slip a little more. It frightened her more than she wanted to admit. And while she knew there was no point in trying to run from him, her instincts sometimes got the better of her.

Suddenly she found herself leaning back in his arms. He had crossed the distance between them with a burst of speed she could hardly comprehend. Treekul knew about the immense power of the Saiyans, but this was her first personal demonstration.

"Ley lines," Rehval said as he looked deeply into her eyes. Her back rested against his left hand, while his right was steadying her at the hip. If he noticed her trembling, or the fear in her eyes, he didn't show it.

"I built these caverns to align with different ley lines across the planet," he said. "Can you feel it? We're standing on a node right now."

"Is that right?" Treekul said.

"The Jindan elixir is a medium between the living energy of the body and the geological energy of the planet. The Jindan transmutation allows a Saiyan to supplement his own ki with planetary power, which is usually much greater. I estimate that a planet with a high population and good biodiversity contains enough ki energy to rival any living foe, including Luffa. The trouble is that there's been no way to direct this sort of power, or to put it all at the command of an individual."

"Until you found a way," Treekul said.

"I found a better way," Rehval said with a smile. "Instead of drawing upon the life energy on Nagaoka's surface, I can tap into the energy of the planet underfoot. The hard part is converting that energy into a form that living beings can use. But I'll show you. I'll show you everything..."

"Could you, uh, let go of me?" she asked, fighting the urge to panic. She wasn't sure how he would react if she struggled, but she was reluctant to find out.

"Is that what you want?" Rehval asked. "I have so much power, Treekul. Far more than any Super Saiyan. I'm offering to share that power with you. You can feel it, can't you? Through my hands, the caverns, my followers? I very much want you to understand that power. It means a great deal to me."

"Hey, I can tell you're powerful," Treekul said, choosing her words very carefully. "But I won't fully appreciate it all until you teach me what you know, and you can't exactly do that while your hands are full, can you?"

He began to laugh, gently, the way someone would during a conversation over a meal. She was beginning to think he saw her as a friend.

"You're right, of course," he said as he finally released her. "Let's get back to the matter at hand. Alchemy is a path to power, Treekul. The Jindan ritual will show you how I can manipulate incredible energies."

"Okay, but that's not really sharing power with me," Treekul said. "Even if I learn how to do this thing, I can only make Saiyans stronger and bind them to your cult, right? That's just me doing your work for you, and you've already got me under your thumb."

"You know, that's an interesting point," Rehval said. "I hadn't thought of it that way. You see, this is exactly why teaching is so rewarding. It gives the teacher a fresh perspective." He stepped away from Treekul and began to pace around the lab, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at the floor as he mulled it over.

"All right," he finally said, turning to look at Treekul again. "We'll do it like this. Tell me what you want. What do you desire most? Then let me show you how you can use alchemy to achieve it."

"How about a haircut?" Treekul said. This was a lie. What she wanted most was to leave Nagaoka and never return, but she doubted the wisdom of saying so out loud.

Rehval looked disappointed. "A haircut. You know, I'm starting to think you lack imagination."

"You didn't ask me to think big, you asked me what I wanted," Treekul said. "And right now, that's my answer."

"It would me much more interesting to show you how to make hair grow," Rehval replied. "Abiogenesis is a fascinating topic."

"Maybe so, but that would be the opposite of what I want, so it would be a waste of time," Treekul said. "You talk about power like all that matters is having more of it. What good is owning a mansion if the shower doesn't work?"

"Fine, you've made your point," Rehval said. "I'll need to prepare your materials for the lesson. Why don't you rest for now, and I'll send for you when I'm ready. Hm, yes, this might be interesting after all...."

With that, he began to busy himself with the reagents and glassware on the benches, and muttering to himself as he rummaged through the cabinets. Treekul hesitated for a moment, half-worried that he might grab her again if she moved, but eventually she decided that he had dismissed her, and that this might be her best chance to get away from him for a while.

She felt a strange elation as she wandered the halls of the compound. As shocked and afraid as she had been when he suddenly grabbed her like that, now that it was over, she felt like she had come away with a bit more leverage. He seemed almost desperate in some way, like he needed her approval, or something else from her that he couldn't simply take by force. As long as that was true, then she still had a chance.

And he was going to teach her something she could actually use, which was an unexpected bonus. Trimming her hair was a low priority in this situation, but he had been the one to confiscate her electric trimmer in the first place, so the fact that he might let her cut her own hair again seemed like a step in the right direction. If she couldn't escape the planet herself, and if she couldn't trick the cultists into helping her, then maybe Rehval himself might provide her with a way out.

The only problem with that, she reasoned, was that she would have to spend even more time with him for her lessons. And yet, this session had turned out to be almost exciting. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

NEXT: Morale