#unfortunately as suspected for years now cloud may just be a guy of all time for me <333

[alien-tendrilz]

damn girl rebirth sure was a video game to experience

[applepiewinchesters]

Unexpected High (Fez x Reader)

A/N: Just letting everyone know that I have in fact posted this on my AO3 as well in case you have already come across it or suspect any theft. Thank you!

A/N: Just wanted to add a little note as this is getting some traction again for unfortunately sad reasons. Angus Cloud was a wonderful person who we didn’t deserve and I will genuinely miss him dearly. I know all of you do as well. Know if you are ever struggling with mental health you are not alone and you matter ❤️

TW: Mentions of drug use, creepy men

In which you, Fezco's girlfriend, were the one at his place the night Mouse showed up with fentanyl, not Rue.

Dating Fez was what teenage girls thought dating a low-life drug dealer in high school was like. They thought they were hard, they thought they had it all. But their boyfriends sold a couple pills every few days to the rich kids, Fez had sold drugs with his grandma since he was little and continued the business after his grandma got sick.

It was his full-time job, it paid the bills, it paid for food, it was everything. Fez was what those little boys in high school thought they were, but they’d piss their pants the minute they stepped into this life.

You were a little bit shook up when you found out the true scale of what Fez did, you’d known him for a couple years before he dropped out of high school. He was sweet, cared about his family, even raised a baby practically by himself.

He first took you out after finding you crying about some piece of shit guy in front of his store, he took you to McDonald’s and bought you chicken nuggets, which in your opinion, was way better than any steak dinner.

Since that day you went around to his place often, partied with him, even helped him count pills occasionally. Ash liked you too, you were the older sister he never had, although he hated when you told him what to do, jokingly of course.

You’d been dating Fez for two years now, he treated you like a queen, buying you gifts whenever he felt like it, treating you to anything you wanted. You never wanted too much, being with him was all you needed, but you were his girl and he wanted you to feel special.

The most recent thing he’d bought you was the brand new airpods in your ears, which you didn’t need but he insisted. You were lying in his bed watching an episode of Bob’s Burgers on your phone, bored as hell.

You were hungry, high, and wanted Taco Bell, so you set your phone down and pulled out your airpods, laying both on Fez’s bed and pushing yourself up a bit, giggling at the sudden dizzy feeling you got. Stumbling a bit you caught yourself on the wall before opening Fez’s door and heading down the hall.

“Fez…,” you began in a sing-song voice, but your giddiness was lost, and you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw who was with Fez in the living room.

Mouse. He was Fez’s drug dealer, at least he was one of them you believed. You knew his reputation, he was not a good person for one, not like Fez. What Fez did may be bad in the eyes of some, but he was a good guy, what Mouse did was bad, and he was a bad guy. He was scary, he was violent, and Fez almost always made sure you were never around when he was, and when you were, he made you promise to stay in the bedroom and not make a sound.

Your dumbass high brain had you forget, of course, that Mouse was coming tonight. You suddenly felt very naked in nothing but one of Fez’s big hoodies and a pair of panties.

Meeting Fez’s gaze you couldn’t tell if he was pissed or terrified. Maybe it was both.

Mouse on the other hand, looked ecstatic.

“Well, well, well,” he began, standing up, “what do we have here?”.

Mouse walked over to you, holding out his hand to you, “What’s your name little girl?” he asked you.

Your eyes darted to Fez, he only gave you a small nod, eyes pleading for you to just stay cool.

“Y/N,” you said as Mouse took your hand, kissing the back of it.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N, this your bitch?” Mouse asked, turning to Fez.

“My girl, yeah,” Fez answered, stone faced.

“Well come here girl, join us,” Mouse told you, pulling you towards the couch. You sat down beside Mouse who put his arm around you. “Now, where were we?”.

“What do I owe you?” Fez asked, hands balling into fists on his lap, you were honestly trying not to tear up. Fez tried his best to keep you out of this life, he didn’t want certain people to know about you, he was worried they’d hurt you to hurt him.

“Hm let’s see, Custer, what’s the math on it?” Mouse asked, turning to the guy in a red hoodie sitting on the back of the couch.

Custer began counting on his fingers, “Uh, 25, 15, and 1,100, 35, 77, and 25….7,750,” he finished.

“Sure you don’t want no fentanyl?” Mouse asked, turning back to Fez.

“Nah, man, I’m cool off that shit,” Fez replied, “there’s too many ODs, and I don’t want the heat.”

Fez didn’t like the hard stuff, never really did.

“How about you little girl? You ever try fentanyl?” Mouse asked you, smiling.

“No,” you answered quickly, maybe too quickly.

“No, she’s good bruh,” Fez told Mouse, tensing up.

“Gonna let your man talk for you?” Mouse asked, tightening his grip on your shoulder.

“I don’t know,” was all you managed to get out, keeping your eyes trained on Fez, trying not let the tears brimming in your eyes spill over.

“Don’t look at him, look at me,” Mouse told you. “You ever try it?”.

“Yo, for real bruh, I don’t want her fucking with that shit,” Fez said, his voice getting a bit louder, you could see him grip the gun he had hidden in the couch.

“You know that feeling when you come so hard that you can’t feel or hear shit? You like that feeling sweetheart?” Mouse asked you.

“Yeah,” you mumbled out, you were almost shaking, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest.

“Well shit, you gonna love this,” Mouse told you, whipping out a pocketknife and a small foil packet. He squeezed a bit of a clear, gel like substance onto the tip of it and held it out to you as he put the packet back into his jacket.

“I’m…. I’m good actually,” you spoke, voice shaking, trying your best to move away from him a bit.

“What, you don’t trust me?” Mouse asked, a teasing tone to his voice.

“Yo, for real man. She’s good,” Fez spoke up again, you could tell he was totally on edge now.

“Shut the fuck up bitch, ain’t nobody talkin to you,” Mouse told Fez, his voice raised, making you jump. “Tell him, come on. Tell your man I’m not talking to him right now. Don’t be scared. It’s not gonna bite you.”

Mouse moved the tip of the knife closer to you again, it was just about an inch from your lips now. All you would need to do is lean forward a bit. But you didn’t want to, you weren’t an addict, and you weren’t about to become one. You especially didn’t want to die because you were a dumbass who forgot to stay in the bedroom.

If you didn’t take it there would be consequences, if you did, there would be consequences. It was a lose-lose situation, for you at least.

You tried to say sorry with a look, if you could even muster that, to Fez. Saying a small, silent prayer that you wouldn’t die to whoever might be listening, you leaned forward, taking the tip of the knife into your mouth, and licking off the fentanyl.

So far, you were fine. You didn’t spontaneously combust or anything so that was great too.

Fez watched you carefully from the other couch, his heart was racing, and he swore it was going to beat out of his chest. If anything happened to you…he didn’t know what he’d do really.

Mouse just leaned back, watching his handiwork, when it hit you. It hit like a punch in the gut, like a trainwreck you didn’t see coming.

The room suddenly felt as if it was spinning, you felt…dizzy, but euphoric. Nothing hurt, your brain was clouded by a fog that just made you want to giggle, which you did.

“It hits quick,” Mouse said, smiling widely as you slowly began falling to the side, it felt like ages before you hit the couch, the plush cushion felt so inviting and like you were sinking into a cloud. “You like the way that feels?” he asked, grabbing your legs and pulling them onto his lap, fingers trailing along the skin of your thigh.

“Yeah…,” you managed to breathe out, smiling, eyes drooping. You could barely make out Fez from across the room now, but you were sure as fuck that he was pissed.

“Yeah,” Mouse said, chuckling as he spoke, “You want a couple of patches girl?”.

“Okay,” you said, barely registering the conversation.

“No, no…,” Fez began, but Mouse cut him off.

“Shut the fuck up!” he said, making Fez close his mouth, Fez was pissed, but he knew if he pissed Mouse off, he could hurt you, and he’d never forgive himself if that happened.

Mouse pulled some patches out of his jacket, very pointedly sliding them into the waistband of your panties, not that you really noticed, but Fez sure did, and so did Ash, who wanted nothing more than to rip this fucker’s face off.

“That’s gonna cost you 300, come on little girl, pay up,” Mouse said, continuing to run his hands all over your legs.

“I-I only have a couple dollars,” you said, eyes closing as you tried not to fall asleep.

“I said 300,” Mouse insisted again.

“I’ll just…just give it back,” you tried, attempting to lift your head up.

“I got a strict no return policy,” Mouse said cockily.

“Yo, Mouse, let me pay for it bro,” Fez spoke up, sitting up a bit.

“I thought you was too good for fentanyl?” Mouse asked, voice angrier now, “What is it? Everybody’s changing their motherfucking minds of me?”.

“Yeah,” Fez said calmly, keeping on eye on your face, making sure your chest was still rising and falling.

“If she can’t afford it, she gonna have to find another way of paying me,” Mouse said, his hand moving farther up your leg, nearly cupping your ass.

“Yo, man, just let me pay for it. I got the money right here,” Fez said standing up as he opened his wallet, pulling out three-hundred-dollar bills and tossing them on the coffee table.

“Dang, your man must really love you,” Mouse told you, smirking. “It’s gonna cost you 600 now, man.”

“Damn. You gonna do me like that, bruh?” Fez asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah, I’m gonna do you straight up like that. Straight up,” Mouse said, shoving your legs off his lap and your feet hit the floor with a thunk.

“There it is,” Fez said, tossing another three hundred dollars on the coffee table.

Mouse stood up, snatching the money as he did so, “It’s always a pleasure doing business with you,” he said, motioning to Custer it was time to leave.

When Mouse and Custer were finally out the door Fez felt like he could breathe again, he rarely got scared, he was tough, he could almost anyone in a fight, and he was one hell of a shot. But when it came to you, you broke him down, you made him soft, not that he wasn’t a little soft already. Sure, some might describe him as slow or unsure, but he was definitely sure about you.

Fez quickly hurried over to you, kneeling beside the couch in front of you. You were smiling sleepily, eyes still closed. He grabbed the patches from your waistband and handed them to Ash, “Go flush that shit down the toilet, and grab the Narcan, just in case.”

Ash nodded, taking the patches, and disappearing down the hall, Fez turned back to you. You seemed fine, just lying on the couch, peaceful.

He walked over to the couch, sitting down beside your head and pulling you into his lap so that you sat sideways, head resting on his shoulder.

Fez moved a bit of hair from your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your smiled widened a bit as you pressed your face into his neck. He wanted nothing more than to put a bullet into Mouse’s head right now, but he needed to make sure you were okay. Family came before anything.

“I’m soooo happy,” you giggled. Fez only nodded and sighed.

“I know.”

Next time, he was locking your high ass in the bedroom.

*

Your head was pounding, and when you tried to open your eyes the light was way too bright for your liking.

Your stomach felt like it was going to come up and out of your throat, so, with your head pounding and your eyes barely open you got up from the warmth of the bed you were lying in and stumbled into the bathroom across the hall.

Falling to your knees in front of the toilet you emptied whatever was in your stomach into the bowl. Tears pricked at your eyes as you heaved, gripping the rim. You suddenly felt a hand on your back, another holding your hair back.

Fez.

“Get it out, come on,” he said, voice still a bit gravely from sleep, besides from the normal gravel sound of it.

You heaved again, more vomit splashing into the toilet, tears running down your face of their own accord. After a few more dry heaves and nothing coming out, you coughed, spitting and trying to get whatever was left out of your mouth.

Sitting back on your heels, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, turning to face Fez who was kneeling beside you.

He smiled, “Okay?” he asked. You only nodded, Fez helped you stand, handing you your toothbrush.

You took the toothbrush gladly and wet it in the sink, grabbing the toothpaste from the cabinet and putting a dollop on your brush.

Fez leaned against the doorframe watching your brush the disgusting taste out of your mouth. He probably wasn’t going to leave your side until he knew the fentanyl was out of your system.

After you were done, you eyed Fez behind you in the mirror as you put your hair up, “How long was I out?” you asked him.

“All night, almost all day, it’s three,” Fez told you. He pushed off the door frame, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Scared the shit out of me baby.”

“I didn’t wanna take it,” you mumbled, voice wobbling a bit. Last night was one of the scariest things that ever happened to you.

“I know, I’m not blamin you,” Fez said, pressing a kiss to your neck gently. You felt safe here, with him holding you, you wanted to forget about last night, just stay here in this moment forever.

You turned in Fez’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, “I’m sorry I didn’t stay in the bedroom,” you said.

“Nah, don’t say you’re sorry, none of it’s your fault, okay?” Fez told you, cupping your face so that you looked up at him.

“Okay,” you said, a few tears falling down your face, you hated how emotional you were, you’d always been since you were little.

Fez wiped at the tears with his thumbs before kissing you. You pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. His hands moved to your waist and then to your ass, squeezing it before lifting you onto the bathroom counter.

Your hands made themselves busy by grabbing the bottom of Fez’s t-shirt and pulling it up, breaking the kiss to get it over his head. Fez’s lips moved to your neck, and his hands were moving under the hoodie of his you were wearing when the bathroom door suddenly opened.

“Jesus fuck!” Ash shouted, “Can’t you fuck in the bedroom like normal people?!”.

You busted into a fit of laughter before Ash slammed the door shut. Fez began laughing too, grabbing his shirt off the floor, “Scarred that little dude for life,” he said, making you laugh harder. “Come on, you need food.”

Both of you left the bathroom, heading to the kitchen, Ash was sitting on at the kitchen table counting money, and gave you both a dirty look.

“Knock next time kid,” you told Ash, making him roll his eyes.

“Don’t fuck in the shared areas of the house bitch,” he replied.

“If I didn’t love you, I’d slap the shit out of you right now,” you told Ash, making him crack a smile.

“Pancakes?” Fez asked you, making you nod and smile as you hopped up on the counter, swinging your legs.

Fez grabbed the mix from the cabinet, as well as a bowl and spoon. You watched him stir up the pancake mix, “Get me a pan baby?” he asked you, you nodded, hopping off the counter and opening another cabinet and grabbing a pan, setting it on the stove and turning it on.

You got the nonstick spray and sprayed the pan, “Thanks,” Fez said, bringing over the mix to the stove and kissing your cheek, “Go sit, I got it.”

Doing as you were told you sat by Ash at the kitchen table, watching him count, your head was still pounding you realized, and your vision was a bit blurry.

“Here,” Ash said, as he put a stack of hundreds in the money counter, sliding a pill bottle towards you. “Ibuprofen.”

“Thanks kid,” you told him, leaning over, and pressing a kiss to his cheek, making him gag and wipe it off. You just laughed as you popped a couple pills, washing them down with the open Gatorade next to Ash.

Soon enough Fez set a plate on pancakes in front of you, complete with butter and syrup. You pulled Fez down to your level, kissing him.

“Stopppppp,” Ash groaned, making you just kiss Fez harder. Ash has seen drugs, blood, and worse all his life, but KISSING is what grossed him out the most, typical kid.

Fez pulled away, “Eat,” he told you, sitting in the empty chair beside you.

You gladly dug into the pancakes, making sure you didn’t eat too fast in fear of puking your guts out again.

When you finished your plate, Fez took it too the sink before going to sit on the couch, flipping on the TV. You followed and he pulled you down onto his lap, an arm around your waist while you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Feel better?” Fez asked, looking down at you.

“Mmhm,” you answered, “thanks to you.”

Fez smiled and shook his head, “Gotta take care of my girl,” he told you.

The rest of the day was filled with the occasional puking, naps in Fez’s lap, and him making you eat. You were right about before too, Fez stayed by your side all day.

The day helped you forget about the night before, just a little bit.

Something in the back of your mind told you that wasn’t going to be your last encounter with Mouse.

Please check out my other Fez fics! A Long Ass Night and Knuckles ! Thank you!

A/N: Hope you liked it! Please let me know what you thought! :)

[skylanders-after-the-end]

Culprits and Witnesses

It was a peaceful morning in Skylands. A scenery of pinkish and yellow clouds illuminated by the rising sun. Snap Shot and Wolfgang were enjoying that moment together. They were sitting underneath the cherry blossom tree where they used to train and bond. Lying on top of the soft green grass, their arms around each other and a light breeze brushing past them. Everything was perfect.

“I wish it could always be like this.” Wolfgang’s eyes were calmly set on the sun. “Just you, me and the endless skies.”

“Me too.” Snap Shot sighed and turned quiet. “As gorgeous as this view is, you know what it means.”

Wolfgang sighed as well, only more annoyed than calm now. “Yeah.”

Not a second passed before a giant version of Dreamcatcher appeared in the sky right in front of them. “The sun is rising you guys, you know what that means.”

The couple rolled their eyes before lovingly looking at each other one more time.

Snap Shot opened his eyes to find himself back inside his cell at Cloudcracker Prison. It was all a dream. However, he’s not upset about it. Him and Wolfgang made a deal with Dreamcatcher so that every night they could meet each other in the dream realm and enjoy their time together, even if it’s not real.

The reptile got out of his cell and on his way to the cafeteria for breakfast, he felt a large fluffy arm wrap around his shoulder.

“Hey sleepy head.” Wolfgang smirked as he joined Snap Shot and they could spend some time in the real world, only surrounded by other villains.

Before the cafeteria entrance, Dreamcatcher appeared in front of the two once again, this time in her regular size. She didn’t say a word and just stared at them with expecting eyes.

Wolfgang shoved his hand inside a pocket of his pants and pulled out a small plastic figure of a unicorn, their end of the deal. “This is all I could find around here.”

“Sir Blueberry Twinkles!” Dreamcatcher used her telepathic abilities, which have been reduced to only lifting small objects inside the prison, to hold the toy in front of her. “Finally I can reunite him with his sister! Thanks, tonight I will take you somewhere special.” The floating head winked before flying off whilst enjoying the small toy horse.

The couple giggled before finally entering the cafeteria to fill their hungry stomachs.

Later that morning, the paralyzed Tuff Luck was found. She was brought into the hospital immediately where Whirlwind would take a look at the strange trance the feline was in.

“I have never seen anything like this before.” Smolderdash was as appalled as everyone else to see the lifeless, cloudy blue eyes of the Life Skylanders. “What happened to her?”

“Maybe this has something to do with Hex’ curse?” Stealth Elf could only think of the witch when she saw those eyes, despite the fact that Hex’ curse turned them pitch black. “Perhaps some kind of side effect?”

“That can’t be it. Everyone was freed from Hex’ curse when she surrendered, and this isn’t undead magic anyway.” Whirlwind has been studying all kinds of injuries and even curses for years, but this was new to her. “This is something completely different.”

Unaware to them, Tuff Luck was currently trapped inside her own mind experiencing her greatest fear. There was no way for her to give any sign through her body, she had no control anymore.

As the Skylanders continued to speculate, a deep voice emerged from the shadows. “May I take a look?”

Everyone turned around to see the dark dragon Blackout standing behind them, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on. “Of course, maybe you know more than us.” Whirlwind moved aside for the dragon to join the group.

Blackout moved his head closer to Tuff Luck and squinted his eyes while staring into hers. Suddenly the horn at the tip of his snout began to glow in a dim green light before he backed off. “Whoever did this must have access to some kind of psychic powers.”

“We figured that much.” Stealth Elf thought about some possible suspects. “But that color and her completely frozen body… we’ve never seen that before.”

“No… not in this form.” Blackout closed his eyes and focused for his horn to glow brighter. “She’s fighting. She’s trapped inside her own mind and there is no way for her to break free.”

The others gasped upon hearing that shocking revelation. “Is there a way to help her?” Smolderdash didn’t hesitate for a moment and was already looking for answers.

“I’m afraid not.” Blackout opened his eyes again and his horn stopped glowing. “She’s under the influence of some force very similar to dream magic. A so-called nightmare prison.”

“Dream magic?” Stealth Elf wasn’t hearing that term for the first time. “Then I think I know who did this.”

“Oh, yes of course I did!” Dreamcatcher just finished placing her most recent toy horse on the ledge of her window, adding it to her collection. It’s a hobby she discovered ever since she’s been locked back inside Cloudcracker Prison and found an abandoned unicorn toy.

“How? You’re behind bars and your powers are limited, there’s no way.” Stealth Elf glared at the floating head through the bars of her cell before she turned around to face the elf and Blackout who have come to question her.

“Oh no, I didn’t do that. I mean I did see your friend in the dream realm. The poor thing was so lost and afraid, but unfortunately I was too busy helping those two lovebirds so I couldn’t do anything about it.” Dreamcatcher’s dirty grin made it clear that she was being sarcastic.

Blackout was standing behind Stealth Elf and didn’t say a word yet. He was trying to use his advanced knowledge to figure out what was going on. “If you were able to see her then others can enter the nightmare prison, so she can be saved.”

The Air villain turned to the dragon and gained a curious look. “Hey, I know you.” She was staring at Blackout who kept his dead serious expression. “Weren’t you one of those creepy dragons that spread nightmares all over the realm? I hope you know by now that that’s my thing.”

“I don’t associate with that clan anymore.” Blackout remembered the Dark Stygian. It was a clan consisting of gargoyle dragons just like him who would give nightmares to villains until they started to abuse that power. “I stopped them just like we stopped you, but there’s another force out there.”

“So, you’re saying it wasn’t her?” Stealth Elf’s eyes went from Dreamcatcher to Blackout.

“No, I keep watch over her at night. She can manipulate dreams to an extent, but not this drastically and not to the point where it gets dangerous.” Blackout kept eye contact with the accused.

“You’re stalking me? Ugh, creep!” Dreamcatcher scoffed at the two Skylanders once more before turning around. “But he’s right, I have nothing to do with this.”

Blackout didn’t ask any further questions and left while Stealth Elf spitefully stared at the back of Dreamcatcher before going as well.

Meanwhile Smolderdash went to get some advice elsewhere. She entered the Magic Realm where she stumbled upon Déjà Vu who was happy to help. The two made it to one of the highest magical towers in which many Skylanders of the respective element reside in. They were looking for someone.

“Are you sure she’s here?” Smolderdash floated across a long wine-red carpet along the blue stone floor leading inside.

“It’s where she spends most of her time as far as I know.” Déjà Vu turned her head left and right to observe countless shelves filled with books, potions and other ancient relics.

The inside of the building was much bigger than the slim exterior led to believe. The two Skylanders turned and pushed many objects aside in search of a specific one. “Hello?” Smolderdash finally exclaimed, hearing an echo throughout the giant circular room.

Déjà Vu was searching on the other side. After some brief scans of every corner, she finally spotted something. “Smolderdash, look!”

The fiery humanoid hurried to the timelord, who was staring at a pink bottle with cyan, oval-shaped jewels on the side and a diamond cork on top. “That’s it!”

Neither of them knew how to approach the relic. Finally, Smolderdash decided to just grab the bottle before shaking it. When nothing happened, she placed her other hand onto it and gently rubbed. The bottle reacted by trembling, which caused the Fire Skylander to drop it and back off. Finally, the cork flew off and the bottle emitted a dazzling cloud of purple smoke. A slim figure emerged out of it and grew larger with every passing moment, casting an enormous shadow on the Skylanders looking up in awe.

The being reached the point where it was so big that it hit the ceiling. After a painful hiss, it proceeded to shrink instead and adjusted itself to a size more suitable for the room. When the smoke ceased, the giant Ninjini finally appeared in front of the visitors. “Who has summoned the great Ninjini… oh it’s just you.”

Déjà Vu’s eyes curved underneath her mask, indicating a smile, while Smolderdash remained rather baffled. “Ninjini, we’ve been looking everywhere for you!” The fellow Magic Skylander was excited to get a chance to talk to one of the most skilled Skylanders of all time.

“Sorry about that, I just discovered a new spell which can warp reality, so I had to retreat into my bottle to concentrate.” Ninjini, and genies in general, were known for their great amount of power. They can grant almost any wish and thus hold the power of infinite creation. “How can I help you?”

“There was an incident last night.” Smolderdash wasn’t sure how to best describe the situation, but she just needed to know if Ninjini was more knowledgeable regarding the issue. “Tuff Luck was put in some kind of trance, they were talking about dream magic. Her eyes were completely light blue and foggy.”

“Dream magic?” Ninjini knew a good deal about that. “Genie magic does have a lot in common with that, only that there’s an entirely different realm for dreams.”

“Do you know any way to manipulate it?” Déjà Vu was curious. “I would use my time powers, but that would most likely lead to way more problems.”

“You shouldn’t do that, you’re right.” Ninjini pointed her finger at the sorceress while looking into another direction. “I wish I could help you, but unfortunately I can’t access any sort of dream magic. While wishes often stem from dreams, ultimately they are what someone wants in reality. Dreams are far more… unpredictable.”

“I understand.” Smolderdash wasn’t disappointed, but she did wonder what else she could do. “If it turns out that it wasn’t Dreamcatcher then there must be someone else with the power to manipulate dreams.”

“And create nightmares.” Déjà Vu reminded her companion of the dark side to that special kind of magic.

“Right…” The Fire Skylander looked up to Ninjini and nodded with a smile. “Thanks for your time.”

“Always. I will let you know if I find out anything else.” The giantess turned around to pick out some more books for her private studying session while the two Skylanders made their way back to the Academy.

The sun has set and there were no clear answers as to what happened with the unfortunate Tuff Luck. The Skylanders gathered once more to discuss another strategy.

“We have no idea what happened, and our main suspect seems to be innocent.” Stealth Elf spoke to the group in front of her, not realizing how glum she sounded. “I suppose we will have to take other measures.”

“Like what? I don’t think the perpetrator will just show up and tell us.” Spitfire joined the discussion after seeing what had happened and wanted to find a solution. “All we can do is hope for Tuff Luck to snap out of it and tell us herself.”

“She’s not snapping out of it, not that easily.” Blackout’s deep voice traveled through the crowd like a wave. “If even Ninjini can’t reverse it, then we have to catch the enemy and force them to do it.”

“Or perhaps…” Smolderdash announced an idea that just popped into her head, drawing all the attention towards her. “Kaos has something to do with this.”

“Kaos never did something like this, I doubt he even could.” Stealth Elf didn’t even consider the small tyrant despite him posing a serious threat numerous times. “I can’t stop thinking that this has something to do with Hex.”

“Hex’ powers were all absorbed and stored safely where no one can find them.” Spitfire had to remind the elf of what happened a week ago. “And besides, her magic is undead, so dark and scary. Not exactly dream magic if you ask me.”

“Guys!” The conversation was interrupted by Whirlwind soaring towards them with a worried manner. “It happened again!”

The Skylanders followed the hybrid to the inside of the library where Gearshift was on the floor with the same cloudy eyes as Tuff Luck. She was all alone, and no one was even nearby, so there were no witnesses.

“How could this happen?” Stealth Elf was shocked and her eyes were glued to the motionless body of the robot. “And why her of all people? Can she even dream?”

“I cannot.” Everyone jumped up in surprise when Gearshift responded. The Trap Master blinked and suddenly her eyes went back to their normal navy, silver and red colors.

Whirlwind couldn’t explain to herself what just happened. “Gearshift? How did you-”

“Break free from the trance? Magic usually does not show great effect on my systems, so in the case of a trance, hypnosis or other forms of paralyzation, I can simply reboot myself.” The robot stood back up as if nothing happened.

“Well, do you know what happened? Did you see anything?” Smolderdash didn’t fully believe that everything was completely fine, but Gearshift wasn’t one to lie.

“I did, in fact.” Everyone listened eagerly as the Tech Skylander recalled the event. “Before I fell into that trance and blacked out for approximately twelve minutes and twenty-one seconds, a cloaked figure ambushed me.”

“A cloaked figure?” Spitfire tried to think of a villain who could be capable of something like that. “Did you see their face?”

“I saw a mask inside the hood, not the face.” Gearshift described the intruder as precisely as she could. “They are using it to curse their victims. Whatever you do, do not-”

“Up so soon? Didn’t you enjoy the nightmare I made for you?” A mischievous voice echoed through the library, and everyone frantically looked around themselves.

“There!” Smolderdash pointed to the cloaked figure they’ve been looking for. He was standing on top of some wooden platforms near the ceiling.

The mysterious figure jumped down while the heroes all pulled out their weapons and were ready to strike. “You’re the one who’s doing this, aren’t you?” Stealth Elf hissed through her mask while tightly holding her daggers.

“Guilty as charged.” The voice was deep, too deep almost. It didn’t sound natural, more like a distorted recording. Everyone could tell that it was a man talking, yet they didn’t recognize him. “I should’ve known that the robot wouldn’t fall prey to my curse, what a waste.”

“Do not look into his eyes, that is what puts you under the curse!” Gearshift remarked before the figure got closer and purposely attempted to look into each pair of eyes.

The Skylanders tried to turn their eyes away, but they still managed to catch glimpses of the mask. It was a frightening twisted grimace painted in dark and cool colors. No one thought much about it until Smolderdash took a closer look, avoiding the eyes. “Wait… that’s the Mask of Power!”

Everyone stared at the Fire Skylander and then again at the mask before gasping when they realized that it truly was the powerful relic. “So, you recognize it. No wonder since you tried to steal it from me years ago!” The foe was walking around the group like a predator circling his prey, turning his head trying to get a look into their eyes.

“Who are you?” Spitfire looked down to the ground as the intruder passed him.

“You know who I am. I’ve spent eons trapped in my own kingdom, unable to fulfill my plan to rule the Skylands with my rightful powers!” The figure was now in front of the group again. He began to levitate with blue energy underneath him and towered over the Skylanders with a mighty aura. “I am the Nightmare King!”

Just before he could launch an attack through the eyes of his mask, a fireball hit him from the side and he fell to the ground. Spyro arrived alongside a few other Skylander to aid their allies. “And you won’t get the chance to do anymore damage!” The leader glared at the enemy who turned away from the heroes.

Instead of surrendering, the Nightmare King began to cackle. He swung his arm and unleashed a powerful wave of magic, throwing everyone to the ground. “You won’t defeat me. Even if you try, I will turn your greatest fears into reality. The one you will have to fight is yourself!” The villain was certain of himself and already knew his plan. “I’m not in a hurry, eventually you will all surrender to the horrors that plague your minds. No one can escape.” With those words the Nightmare King turned around and vanished in the blink of an eye.

The Skylanders looked everywhere, but he was gone. “Perfect, yet another new villain.” Spitfire sighed and waited for Spyro to come up with the next plan to take the threat down.

“I’m afraid so.” Cautiously, almost paranoid, Spyro looked behind himself to see if there was something there. “Skylanders, there’s a new villain in town and he once again wants to take over the Skylands.”

“He also carries the Mask of Power.” Smolderdash remarked.

Spyro’s eyes opened wide, but at this point nothing could surprise him anymore. “Well, then we will need to find a way to take those powers from him. We all know what a single fragment of the mask was capable of, I don’t want to find out what the whole thing can do.”

As Spyro discussed the plan, Gearshift noticed that something wasn’t right. She blinked and her eyes suddenly shifted back to the nightmare state. Inside her mind, or rather system, she saw something familiar, then she heard a deep scream. She couldn’t make out what it was and before she got the opportunity to look closer, she was back in the real world. The robot didn’t think much of it and continued to listen like nothing happened.

In the meantime, at Cloudcracker Prison all the villains were in their cells and supposed to be asleep. Obviously almost none of them were, but they were all quiet so they wouldn’t receive a warning from the guards. Snap Shot and Wolfgang were no exception. After asking the Trap Masters time and time again they were finally allowed to get cells next to each other. Now they could chat as much as they wanted, despite a crystal wall being in between them.

“Did Dream tell you that she was interrogated today?” Wolfgang was using the bones of the chicken he had for dinner to drum against the bars of his cell as so often.

“For what?” Snap Shot was scratching the floor with his sharp gloved claws.

“Apparently a Skylander was found under some kind of dream spell.” Wolfgang did know what the mischievous head was capable of, but he also knew that her powers are very limited within prison walls. “They thought it was her. Shows how much they trust their own energy fields.”

Snap Shot smirked. “You guys did always find a way around that.” After a few seconds the reptile’s smile faded and his scratching along the floor stopped. “Wolfy?”

“Yeah?” The werewolf interrupted his drumming session since he could tell that Snap Shot was about to ask him something more serious.

“What will you do when you get out?” Snap Shot has been thinking about life outside of prison a lot lately, and he can’t help but wonder what it will look like. “We have two more years, but after that we’re free to go.”

Wolfgang was quiet. Unlike Snap Shot, he spent many years behind bars. At this point it felt more like home than any other place in Skylands. “Well, if the queen is really out of the picture, I’ll just try to get as far away from here as possible. Lay low, y’know?”

“Yeah.” That reminded Snap Shot of Wolfgang’s attempt to flee when the Skylanders found them and the other Doom Raiders on that abandoned island. Back then he would have never dared to run away, but things are different now. “I honestly have no idea. I thought I’d be with the Skylanders until I retire before settling down in some swamp and spend the rest of my days shouting at youngsters who are trespassing through my property.” Wolfgang laughed as Snap Shot paused and thought further. “But now I’m here. I have to get away once I’m out, they won’t want me around.” Snap Shot took a deep breath and exhaled with a sigh. “I can never go back.”

Wolfgang could almost feel Snap Shot’s disappointment through the wall. He knew how respected he used to be among the Skylanders. The leader of the Trap Masters with a track record of catching more criminals than anyone else, including the wolf himself several times. The crocagator told him to not feel guilty about that loss, even though it was his fault. The least he could do now is help him figure things out. “I know what that’s like, losing the life you once had and all the people in it. It’s scary at first and you’re all alone, but eventually you find something new, something that keeps you going. For me it was music and with the Doom Raiders I thought I had discovered my new purpose. Now I realize that wasn’t what I really wanted, not in that way.”

Snap Shot was listening carefully. He loved listening to his partner go on about music, he could tell how happy that made him, but he never expressed anything about his purpose before. “Then what do you want?”

“I want to be free.” Wolfgang’s lips formed a gentle smile as his mind wandered through all the possibilities once he’s out of prison. “No more tyranny and pressure from some greedy ol’ hag. I just want to get out there and share my music, even if no one enjoys it.”

Snap Shot nodded. “That sure sounds like a purpose to me.”

“And I won’t go alone.” Wolfgang added. “I’ll take a grumpy old crocagator with me and maybe, just maybe, he will get into music too.”

“In your dreams!” Both let out a heartfelt laugh before sinking back into their thoughts. “That does sound like something. Getting out there, seeing what no one’s seen before.”

Wolfgang was glad to hear some perspective from the reptile. “And you know the Skylanders; some of them won’t be able to let you go without at least saying goodbye.”

“You’re right about that.” Snap Shot’s sight moved up and out the window. Seeing the star-filled sky gave him a comforting feeling, almost like a spark of hope. “To the future.”

“To the future.” Wolfgang yawned before crawling into his small bed, which has been starting to feel comfortable after so many dreamy nights.

Snap Shot went to bed too and realized that maybe, despite the circumstances, the stay in the prison was exactly what he needed.

[ejzah]

Could you do a fanfic where kensi has to go undercover as a model?

A/N: This prompt was sent a very long time ago. I apologize for it taking so long. This is set in season 4 and may deviate a little from canon.

***

Top Model

***

“This is the best day ever,” Deeks muttered, unable to hide his wide grin. He was situated at the end of a long runway next to several other, actual photographers who snapped rapid fire pictures of the models walking past.

He peered through the viewfinder of his camera, taking several pictures as a heavy beat vibrated through the room and a woman in a mustard yellow dress with a deep slit and feathers decorating the bodice stopped directly in front of him and gave him a sultry stare.

“See something you like?” Kensi asked, sarcasm filling her voice. She was somewhere backstage, waiting for her own turn to catwalk down the runway. He wasn’t sure what strings Hetty had pulled to get his and Kensi’s aliases, Bobby Harper and Rosa Black gigs at a fairly high profile fashion show 12 hours before the event started, but he was infinitely grateful.

Not only did he get to wear a shirt that cost more than his monthly salary (a nice change from all the utility uniforms of late), but he would also get to see Kensi live out her ANTM dreams. He wasn’t sure which of them was more excited.

“Mm, not really my type.” His camera whirred again, capturing the daring stance of a read-headed model in a deep green dress. Kensi made a rude noise, not exactly fitting with her current persona.

“I thought any woman that doesn’t run away is your type.” He grinned again, holding back a chuckle, reminding himself that it would look a little strange if he started laughing at nothing. “Ooh, what about the leggy brunette headed your way?” Kensi waited for the model to stop in front of him and then added. “Her name’s Jasmine and she likes long walks on the beach.”

“She sounds delightful, but still not my type,” Deeks muttered. He had a different leggy brunette in mind who would probably gut punch him if he ever dared to call her “leggy”.

He took several pictures on auto pilot, thankful that no one would actually be scrutinizing them for quality. His photography skills were satisfactory for crime scenes, but probably not quite magazine worthy. “Did you see anything interesting back stage?”

“Other than two models getting into a fight over a pair of Louis Vuitton shoes?” Kensi said. “Not really. There was too much chaos to focus on one thing.”

“Now that I would have loved to see.”

“Creep.” He grinned again at her mild comment. Two more models stalked by, giving their own variation of the same overly dramatic stance. Lowering his camera for a moment, he quickly swept the room to see if anyone was giving particular notice to a single model.

One of them was suspected of selling sensitive information to a foreign government. Nell and Eric had traced the sales of similar information back to several other modeling events over the past two months. They were still trying to figure out how their suspects, mostly in their early twenties and without criminal records, had attained classified information.

Sam and Callen were in the audience, keeping an eye out for their buyer. So far they’d been pretty silent though.

Three more models emerged from either side of the runway amid a cloud of manufactured mist. As the fog cleared, Kensi walked out, and the beat of his heart suddenly matched the rhythm of the music. She wore a dark blue evening gown, the plunging bodice clinging to her torso until it reached her waist and flowed down into several full layers of sheer material. Half her hair was swept up to the side with the rest fell around her shoulders in soft curls.

She looked absolutely stunning, and more importantly, confident. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as she strutted down the runway. As she drew closer to the end, Deeks heard a rush of whispers from the other photographers, wondering who she was.

Kensi paused in front of the them, her skirts swirling around her dramatically as she stopped. She glanced to him, her eyes making contact for the briefest of seconds. In that moment see saw a hint of uncertainty and then pride as the whispers continued and a dozen cameras flashed around her. She gave an extra twirl before she headed back down the runway.

One of the photographers said something about winning an award for her pictures and Deeks smothered a smirk. Kensi would get a kick out of that. To bad said pictures would never see the light of day.

“Guys, I just saw one of the models, Jenna Martinez, talking to a guy. He looked about 50 years old with gray hair and a dark blue suit,” Kensi said a few minutes later, sounding a little breathless. “I’m sending you a picture.”

“Did you see what he gave her?” Sam asked. “Coulda been a lot of things. Drugs, money in exchange for other services...”

“No, all I could see was a white envelope. But models aren’t supposed to leave styling area in between walks without permission though. If someone caught her, she could risk getting kicked out of the show. That seems pretty suspicious to me.”

“Kens, check it out,” Callen decided. “Deeks, figure out a way to get out and back her up. We’ll see if we can find Kensi’s mystery man.”

“Got it. Deeks I’ll be back where they store the extra wardrobe.”

Deeks sat through two more cycles of models, conscious they had limited time before the area would be swarming with with even more people once the show had finished. He took the opportunity to slip away when one of the models took an unfortunate fall after tripping over the train of her dress.

Surprisingly, no one questioned why he was wandering around back stage. The stylists and make up people seemed completely consumed with making sure the show stayed on track to wonder about his motives.

“Kens,” he whispered when he found the storage area empty.

“Right here,” she answered, appearing from one of the many closets, still dressed in the evening gown. When she noticed his raised eyebrow, she added. “I didn’t have time to change.”

They passed through a couple dim hallways, taking a less direct route to the locker area to avoid running into anyone.

“You watch the door.” Kensi headed to the second row of lockers, sinking to a graceful crouch.

“Did you really bring your lock picking kit with you?” he asked, glancing through a crack in the door as she pulled something from the top of her dress.

“Nope, bobby pin,” she said holding it up with a smirk before she pried it open with her teeth.

“How very resourceful of you, Nancy Drew.” He nodded in appreciation as she inserted the straightened end into the keyhole.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” After a minute or so of wiggling it around,

she swore under her breath. “Damn it. It’s like there’s rust or something stuck in here and it doesn’t want to give.”

“How much longer do you think it will take?” he asked, checking the door again. There was no one in the vicinity so he left his watch and crouched beside her.

“I don’t know, Deeks!” Kensi snapped, blowing out a long breath. She glanced at him a little sheepishly as she removed the pin and started over again. “Sorry. It’s just that this usually takes me about 10 seconds.”

“Don’t worry about it. You wouldn’t happen to have any WD-40 tucked in there too?” He nodded to her chest and she slanted him a wry look, but didn’t look too annoyed.

“Right next to my wrench and screwdriver. I think-“

“Wait,” Deeks interrupted, making a hushing sound. “I think someone’s coming.” He rushed back to the door as quietly as he could. He couldn’t see anyone yet, but he heard voices and footsteps, drawing closer every second. “Kens, someone’s coming. We have to get out of here.”

“Just one more minute,” she insisted. “ I think I almost got it.” The lock made an audible click and Deeks winced at the loud creak as Kensi swung the locker door open and pulled out a Dior purse and a cloth shoulder bag.

“Kens-“ Ignoring his warning, she dumped the contents of both bags onto the floor and a collection of makeup and clothes fell out along with a medium sized envelope. Kensi snatched it up, tossing it in his direction and started stuffing the rest of the things back in the locker, not taking time to worry about neatness.

Heart pounding, he shoved the envelope in the inside of his pocket, glancing around for somewhere to hide. Two men were walking down the hallway, making a beeline for the locker room.

“Ok, let’s go,” she whispered, reaching for his hand as she stood up.

“No time,” he hissed back, tugging her further into the room. Kensi made a surprised sound when he pushed her up against the lockers and added, “Please don’t hit me.”

She didn’t have time to respond before he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers.

***

A/N: I clearly do not know much about modeling or fashion shows so I went with what I do know fairly well. Densi. Hope you enjoyed and there will be a part 2.

Thanks for the the prompt anon!

[curiousconstellations]

The Price of a Bean and the Cost of Love

Summary: With no clue how to defeat a villain the town can’t remember, Hook and Emma venture to the Enchanted Forest to retrieve some magical items from the Evil Queen’s castle. Along the way, they rediscover the connection they shared before they were separated by worlds a year ago. 3B canon divergence, Rated T, 8k, also on AO3 here

A/N: Happy Holidays @phiralovesloki​ I’m your CS Secret Santa! I hope this little fic will bring you some cheer to this wild year :) Honestly I had so many ideas after revisiting season 3 that I’m definitely down to write more S3 renaissance/divergence fics from now on!

Thank you @cssecretsanta2020​ for another great event!

-/-

The more frequently they host these hushed conversations by the fireplace, the more Emma grows to despise the décor of Granny’s B&B, however cozy it may be. It’s difficult to keep Henry safe whilst also keeping him away from these discussions of the Enchanted Forest and curses and magic, so the common area of the B&B is the best option when she knows he is tucked away asleep upstairs.

Her parents and Regina are going back and forth at each other while Hook stands by the fire, raising an eyebrow every time Regina fires an insult or her mother shoots down Regina’s suggestions with judgement.

“Well, even if we could figure out who did this, they’ve done a spectacular job of making sure I can’t fight back by stripping my entire vault of anything magical that could help. I bet it’s all just sitting back at the castle, wilting away like this damn town will under this curse.” Regina bites out angrily.

They all silently reflect on her words and Emma can’t help but wish she were back in New York right now. At least then her issues would be about prying Henry away from his video games long enough to sleep and do homework, not trying to protect him from some unknown fairy tale villain who had cursed their family and friends and was turning people into flying monkeys. God, what is her life?

“What if we could retrieve some things from your castle?” Hook asks, everyone swinging their heads up to look at him curiously.

“What the hell do you mean, pirate?” Regina demands. Hook sighs and pinches his nose; a gesture Emma finds herself sympathizing with when dealing with Regina.

“I mean that I have a way of returning to the Enchanted Forest. I can use it to fetch your magical goods and then you can do your thing with your little bottles and jars and we can resolve all of this.”

“And how exactly do you have a way of getting back there?” David asks suspiciously. Hook fishes in his jacket pocket and reveals a magic bean, rolling it between his fingers slowly.

“I procured two beans, the first I used to get to Emma in New York. The second, well let’s just say I had it saved for a rainy day. Now, this cursed business is really only a slight drizzle for me, but if it will help, the offer stands.” The offer had mostly been made to Regina, but Emma finds Hook’s gaze on her. She’s pretty sure he was not offering this bean for Regina’s sake.

“Well, I don’t trust you to go alone.” Regina shrugs. Hooks rolls his eyes upward in frustration and Emma’s lips twitch a little. The man is not particularly good at hiding his emotions.

“I’ll go too.”

Her words are met with immediate disagreement from her parents, but she patiently waits for them to finish their complaints before speaking.

“Look, you’re all cursed. As far as we know, you can’t leave town let alone jump through a portal. Hook and I are the only people not affected by the curse. He brought me here to help, so this is something I can help with. I’m the saviour after all.” Emma sighs, glaring at her parents until they surrender.

“Is this even necessary? Regina, I’m sure you can cope without your things for now. We can find another way to figure out who cast the curse and defend ourselves if need be.” Snow says firmly, David backing her up with an affirmative nod and a squeeze of her shoulder.

“Isn’t it better to have and not need, than need and not have?” Hook interjects.

“See? The pirate gets it. He’s willing to give up a bean for this. What would the town say if they find out their royal highnesses didn’t do everything they could to protect them?” Regina says smugly.

“Look, guys, enough. Hook and I will go get Regina’s magical crap from the castle, end of discussion. I don’t like not having all the tools possible to face who or whatever this is.”

“Thank you, Miss Swan.” Regina says, her tone indicating it was more of a dig at her parents than actual gratitude.

“Fine. But how will you get back? You only have one bean.” David asks. Emma looks to Hook for answers, considering this was his plan to begin with. He catches her eye and clears his throat with an awkward scratch of his ear.

“I can get another bean from the same seller. I know where he is.” Emma knows he’s hiding something, and she plans on pushing him on it later, but for now she lets it slide.

“Well, how do you know that he has more, or that you can get one from him? It’s a bit of a precarious plan, especially now my daughter is coming.” David replies roughly.

“I trust that Hook will get us back, okay. We should probably get going soon and I want to say goodbye to Henry first. I know you’ll all take care of him, but he’ll think I’m leaving him with strangers, and I don’t want him to worry.” Emma heads upstairs before more disagreements break out, exhaling with relief at the tiny amount of peace the dark, quiet hallway provides.

She wakes Henry to explain that she needs to go somewhere else for work, but she will be back in no time. He’s sleepy and confused, but he smiles when she says he will be treated to all the ice cream from the mayor he wants and some lovely meals from her friends (yes, the one that was apparently her cellmate). Emma hugs him tightly and says goodnight once again, watching over him for a moment before turning off the light and closing the door.

“You don’t have to come along, Swan.” Hook says softly from behind her as he exits his own room.

“And let you have all the fun trashing Regina’s castle? I don’t think so.” She scoffs. They share a brief look, and, in this moment, she is particularly grateful for this uncanny ability they seemed to have developed of understanding each other with a single glance. It’s simultaneously terrifying and comforting to know Hook can read her so well.

Emma says goodbye to her parents while Hook gets strict rules from Regina about what to do in her castle and he looks like he’d rather switch places with her and be hugging David right now. She’s hoping they will be back pretty soon but and she’s putting all her faith in Hook’s suspiciously vague plan to get them another bean home, but her trust in him grows each time he does something selfless, chipping away at her suspicions with his surprising decency and kindness.

They head out the back behind the B&B, the frosty air nipping at her skin as she shivers. Hook’s breath comes out in clouds when he offers her one last chance to back out, but Emma simply shakes her head, and he tosses the bean on the grass. The portal swirls in front of them and a second later they’re jumping through in a dizzy haze of flashing lights and crackling sounds.

With a rough landing in between some trees and a distinct shift in the atmosphere, Emma knew they had made it to the Enchanted Forest. Well, running back to New York wasn’t exactly an option anymore.

-/-

“I walked around the Enchanted Forest in my normal clothes last time, I don’t see why it’s an issue now.” Emma grumbles, fighting with the heavy material of the skirt they had nabbed from a clothing line. Hook had already explained it to her, but he indulges her complaints nevertheless.

“We don’t know what or who has been left here after the curse. Looking like you’re from another world is a sure-fire way to gain attention, and we want to get in and back as soon as possible, right lass?” He smirks at her grumbled response as they continue down the path in the forest, squinting at the peak of the castle ahead of them. They had been walking for some time; unfortunately, the bean did not let him pick an arrival spot closer to the castle. He had thought that perhaps this time alone with Emma would be pleasant, perhaps even a time for them to reconnect after being separated for a year, but so far Emma appears to be preoccupied with her own thoughts.

“Did you miss going on adventures with me while you were in New York?” He asks teasingly, glancing over at Emma as she scoffs.

“You bet. The Big Apple had nothing on trekking through trees and beanstalks in strange lands with a pirate.” She replies humorously.

“The Big Apple?”

“It’s a nickname for New York.”

“Your land never ceases to confuse me, Swan.”

“Yeah, well, staying in New York would have meant not having to deal with the confusion of curses and villains.” He can sense the shift in Emma’s attitude with her bitter words and he sighs.

“So, you would have preferred it if I had left you alone in your new life.”  

“I’m glad you came and gave me my memories back, but you have to understand how hard it’s been for me leaving that life of blissful ignorance to the existence of…all of this.” Emma waves her hands around, gesturing at the land they’re in.

“You act like knowing of the existence of magic and fairy tales is a burden. But don’t you ever think about what it has to offer, what it’s already given you?”

“When magic was the entire reason for me growing up alone? For my parents being cursed twice now? For Neal’s crappy childhood and Regina killing a bunch of people and countless other shitty things? Sorry, I’m just a little preoccupied dealing with all of that that see the beauty in it.” Emma speeds up her steps and Hook strides to match her pace. She’s clearly jaded, and she has every right to be, but he feels like he should be doing more to reason with her. He suspects that her dismissal of magic and this world will cause a chasm soon enough, pulling her further away and back into the noisy streets of the city she seems to love so much.

They continue along the path in relative silence, jumping into the trees when they hear the odd carriage or footsteps ahead as a precaution to avoid potential foes or having to explain who they are. Hook can feel the air cooling as the day progresses and he’s concerned about the few hours of daylight they have left. He hadn’t thought that they could achieve everything in a single day, but Emma’s cold demeanor had put him off broaching the topic of resting come nightfall.

The castle soon becomes visible as the trees thin and the path becomes wider. Hook is surprised that no one is around. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he had wondered if some strays left behind from the curse would ransack it or something. From appearances, it had been left alone, which was a good sign for collecting all of the necessary items Regina requested.

“The way Regina talked about this place I thought it would be beautiful, but honestly it’s kind of ugly.” Emma comments, making eye contact with him for the first time in over an hour. He smirks, nodding in agreement and pleased they can at least mock the architecture together.

“Aye, her taste is indeed questionable.”

“It’s weird to think my grandparents lived here, that my mom grew up here. I feel so disconnected from all of this.” Emma admits as they walk up the stairs to the main entrance. It’s so eerily quiet that Hook is reminded of the curse that hit everyone here, snatching them away to the land without magic. Their trek to the castle and his concerns of Emma’s longing for her old life had almost made him forget why they were here in the first place.

“Perhaps that is something you could discuss with your mother. Maybe hearing stories of her childhood and your grandparents will help you appreciate this part of your life more.”

“So that I won’t want to go back to New York you mean?” Emma asks flatly.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that, like you said, you are disconnected from your history here, and maybe understanding it more will help you better accept magic being in your life.” Hook shrugs, trying to pass it off as nonchalant. Emma hums suspiciously and he realizes he really has no ability to pretend anything other than the truth with her.

“And perhaps I don’t want to say goodbye again.” He adds boldly. Since Emma regained her memories, he’s been dancing around his feelings for her, prioritizing her return to town and figuring out the business of this new curse. After all, she was juggling her cursed parents and her son’s own sheltered memories, she hardly needed him making things more difficult.

“There is a lot of New York you haven’t seen yet. There’s more to the city than the inside of a jail cell.” She jokes, giving him a lopsided smile. They’ve reached the main entrance now, the doors grand and intimidating in their aggressive spikes and bolts as deterrents. Hook pulls on the large handle, the door creaking loudly in the otherwise quiet entrance. The immediate hall inside is empty, no guards or thieves in sight, and they step in apprehensively.

“Are you suggesting I should come to the city with you, if you were to return?” He asks as Emma glances around in wonder.

“Well, I-” She starts, but she suddenly stops and slams into him, knocking them both to the floor as streaks of fire blaze above them. The fire singes the floor right where they had stood, fizzling out after scorching most of the entranceway. Hook looks around frantically, not seeing anyone around to cause balls of fire to hurdle at them. Emma’s heavy skirts and cloak are draped over him, her hair tickling his face as she moves off him with a groan.

“I’m sorry, it just came out of nowhere and I reacted.” She sits up awkwardly, looking around to see if any more fire could come their way as she shifts her cloak back over her bodice correctly and puffing out her now red cheeks.

“No worries, lass. I’m impressed by your quick reaction.” Hook replies as he stands, offering her his hand to help her up.

“I deal with some shifty people at work, I’ve got to be fast.” Emma shrugs. He delicately moves a curl of her hair back in place, catching her eyes as he does so. It’s the softest she’s looked since he found her in New York, a look he hadn’t seen since they said goodbye at the town line a year ago. It lasts only a moment before she looks away, but he’ll hold onto it as a sign that whatever formed between them in the cruel humidity of Neverland still lingered in her soul.

They cautiously proceed through the castle towards Regina’s tower, both on the lookout for other apparent protection spells that were still in effect. He wondered if they would find some hint of what happened before the curse, but everything seemed normal, at least for the castle of the Evil Queen. Once they find her room, they quickly grab bottles and books and trinkets from the vanity, tossing them into a sack he had in his pocket.

“Regina said she has a room where she keeps more things, but it’s sealed with blood magic so this will have to suffice.” Hook tells Emma as she sniffs one of the bottles and grimaces.

“And no doubt she will blame us if this stuff isn’t what she needs.” Emma scoffs. The setting sun reflects off the vanity mirror and Emma’s hair shines in the hazy orange glow. He admires her for a moment before stepping away to stand at the balcony, looking out the stretch of land ahead and the pastel colours of the sunset. Emma soon joins him, and they stand together and watch the changing colours of the sky in silence.

“I don’t know how Regina could stand here and see something so beautiful out there and want to retreat into this cold, dark palace.” Emma says quietly.

“Maybe she was scared of the potential life outside of this, so she retreated to something familiar.” He replies, glancing over at Emma to see his meaning was not lost on her by the way she shakes her head. He thinks she’s ready to launch into another defence of her wanting to go back to New York, but she doesn’t say anything. To his surprise, she shuffles closer and rests her head on his shoulder. They stay like that for a while, until a chill settles over them and Emma sighs wistfully.

“So where is this bean seller?” She asks, pulling her cloak around herself with a shiver.

“He should be down by the water. But we should rest for the night. It’s a bit of a walk to the port, even longer and more hazardous in the dark.” Hook replies, his stomach sinking at the thought of the next part of their quest.

“Okay, but I don’t want to stay here. I’m sure the beds in the guest rooms are nice but this place freaks me out. Is there an inn or something close by? Preferably somewhere we could find some kind of food.” Emma laughs lightly when her stomach rumbles mid-sentence.

“Aye, there’s a tavern in a village close by, if we leave now, perhaps we can make it by the light that’s left of the day. I have no idea if anyone will be there, but there may be something left behind we could salvage to eat.” Hook grabs the sack of magical items and swings it over his shoulder, ushering Emma ahead as they quickly descend from the tower.

He keeps close to Emma as they walk in the dusky light, glancing ahead as the individual trees of the forest become indiscernible and form an ominous tunnel of darkness.

“Why did you have two beans?” Emma asks, her voice breaking the quietness of the night.

“Well, why not?” He evades with a cheeky tone.

“You said you were saving it for a rainy day. I get being prepared for the worst, but it seemed like you had a specific purpose for it.” Hook thinks for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell the truth. He thinks of her head on his shoulder earlier and the way it felt so simple and easy to stand by her side in peace.

“I got a second one in case you wanted me to leave.”

“Leave?” Emma asks incredulously.

“You had a life in Storybrooke with the town and your family, and then again in New York with your boy. I came to bring you back to them, but I never had a place in that life of yours. I have stayed for the possibility that I could, but if you wished that I didn’t, I would return here and never burden you again.” Hook tugs on the sack awkwardly as they walk, almost wishing he could see her face but also relieved to be shielded by the darkness.

Emma is quiet, and the longer she doesn’t speak, the more anxious he becomes. She could easily turn around right now and tell him she does want him to leave her life, and the thought makes his chest ache.

“You’re not a burden, Hook.” She says quietly. He takes that as the smallest of victories and relaxes a little. He thinks she’s about to say more when she suddenly trips, slipping onto the ground with a painful groan.

“Swan!” He tosses the sack down and kneels beside her, widening his eyes in the dark as if that would help him see better.

“I think I hit my…” Emma mumbles. Hook gently touches her face, feeling blood already forming at the cut at her temple. He kicks around and feels a rock on the path just as Emma turns on the ground and retches.

“Concussion.” She mutters, slumping against his chest.

“Aye, that was a nasty hit to the side of your head, lass.” He says softly as he brushes her hair away from the cut. She’s in no state to continue walking, but there’s no way they can stop here for the night; she’ll certainly need food and water to ease her discomfort. He reaches for the sack and loops the string over his hook before scooping her up in his arms, much to her disoriented chagrin.

“Down, I’ve had this loads before.”

“Doesn’t matter how often this happens to you, Swan. I’m not having you wander about in the dark in this state. You’ll end up knocking me out too with your stumbling.” He teases lightly. She grumbles something unintelligible, but he takes her burrowing herself against him as resignation. Hook watches her close her eyes and furrow her brows and he hopes he can reach that damn tavern soon.

-/-

 A wave of nausea hits Emma when she opens her eyes, the image of the room feeling like a puzzle her brain is too slow to piece together. A candle flickers on the other side of the room, the dancing flame making her unsteady vision worse. She slides up the bed she lays in, wincing in discomfort. Looking around the room at the simple décor, she assumes this is the tavern. To her left is another single bed, the sack of Regina’s things sitting on top along with Hook’s jacket. There is a cup and a pitcher of water on the small table in the middle of the beds and she clumsily pours some and takes a slow drink, her dry lips and throat relieved to feel the liquid.

She tentatively reaches up to touch her head, feeling a small bandage across the cut on her temple, her hair damp from what she hopes is the water used to clean the wound and not blood. The door creaks open and Emma is relieved to see Hook.

“Ah good, you’re awake.” He says softly. She notices the plate he’s carrying and practically salivates at the thought of food, but he puts it down on the table and stands beside her bed, gently lifting her chin up with his fingers.

“Your eyes look alert, I’m sure some colour will come back to your cheeks once you’ve eaten.” His fingers are warm against her skin and she feels cold as soon as his hand slips away.

“I was able to bring up some cheese and a small amount of bread, but Sylvia won’t allow any hot food in the rooms. If you are feeling well enough, we can go down a bit later for something more.” Hook explains as he passes her the plate of the ration sized portions of bread and cheese.

“Sylvia?” She asks before tucking in, happy to have a least something to put in her stomach.

“The owner of the tavern. Turns out, the curse left a few people from different villages all over. A lot of them gathered here after the curse hit and made their own sort of village. It’s a lively little place.”

“Does anyone know what happened?”

“Not in any great detail. Some were outside of the boundaries and saw it descend, but they didn’t know why. They said it was a green fog that seemed to appear from Regina’s castle. They’ve all been too scared to go there in case its dangerous, but no one knows who cast it or why.” Hook sits down on the other bed and slides out the flask from his jacket pocket. She watches him take a drink and longs for the pleasantly warm feeling of his rum.

“Have you eaten yet?” She asks, swallowing the last of the bread guiltily.

“I had some bread and cheese downstairs.”

“We should go get some warm food now. I’m still hungry and I bet you are too.” Emma says firmly as she moves off of the bed. Hook jumps up to stop her, his hand gently holding on to her shoulder like she’s going to break.

“Are you well enough?”

“Hook, I’m fine. It was a concussion; I’ve gotten them plenty of times when a skip is rough on the run and I still catch them every time.”

“Aye, but head injuries can be fatal. Just because you feel fine doesn’t mean you are.” He replies with concern. She rolls her eyes and tugs on his arm as she feels her stomach grumble in desire of more food, pulling him towards the door.

“And if I faint it could easily be from hunger. Come on.”

Hook leads the way down the stairs to the common area of the tavern, the old place dimly lit with candles scattered about, leaving pools of melted wax around them. Emma hears the buzz of chatter from the front room and is surprised to see so many people here. Hook ushers her to the table closest to the fire that was fortunately free and she hums in appreciation at the warmth. She sees him gesture to the woman behind the bar she assumes is Sylvia, who gives her a once over and smiles before leaving through the door behind her.

“The food will be here shortly, Swan.” Hook reassures her as he sits down on the bench beside her. They both soak in the heat of the fire eagerly, Hook holding out his hand in front of the flames for warmth. Emma subtly looks over him, noticing his tired eyes in the gleam of the fire and his tense shoulders. They hadn’t been able to see the light from the tavern before she hit her head, so she assumes they had still been a fair distance from it, which meant that he had walked all that way with her in his arms in the dark. He must have also tended to her wound and made sure she had a soft place to lie down when they got here.

“Hey, um, thanks for making sure I was okay.” She says awkwardly, reaching out to give his arm a squeeze. He seems surprised by her gesture, raising an eyebrow and quickly looking back at the fire.

“Of course, love.”

“And you’re not some stray dog I’m going to get rid of by the way. You’ve helped me and my family out a lot. I said that you could be part of something, and I meant it.” Emma speaks quietly, aware that they had attracted some attention from the other patrons when they came down. Hook nods and puts his hand over hers on his arm with a soft smile.

“Some warm stew for the lovebirds.” Sylvia says loudly as she comes towards them with two steaming bowls and some water. Emma gives Hook a questioning look, but he responds with his own vague expression that tells her to play along. They thank Sylvia and tuck in, Emma too grateful for the warm bowl of food to even care what’s in it. Her body instantly relaxes at the taste of food and she practically inhales the whole bowl, realizing the last warm meal she ate back in Storybrooke felt like days ago. Hook grins at her and asks Sylvia for seconds for both of them. Four bowls of stew later they turn back to the fire, feeling full, warm, and surprisingly relaxed.

“Lovebirds?” Emma murmurs to him, knocking his shoulder with her own teasingly.

“I told her you are my wife. I thought it the easiest way to explain a passed-out woman in my arms that I needed to stay with.” Hook explains sheepishly.

“I’m surprised she gave us a room with two beds then.” She scoffs.

“It was the last room left.” Hook says humorously. Emma hums in understanding but starts gnawing on her lip at the fact that a mild swell of disappointment fills her chest. She hadn’t given much thought to their sleeping arrangements beyond finding a bed outside of Regina’s castle to lie on for the night, but now that they have a room with beds of their own, she thinks about what it might have been like had there only been one. It’s ridiculous and she puts it down to the overwhelming craziness of the past few days making her yearn for some comfort and that is it.

“Disappointed, Swan?” Hook smirks, flashing her the smoldering gaze that obviously gets him a lot of attention.

“Please.” She rolls her eyes; glad her cheeks were already flushed by the fire. The heat of the fire and the tension simmering between them brings her right back to Neverland and she licks her lips at the thought of their kiss. Emma finds herself feeling the same desire to throw caution to the wind and kiss him again. It seems fitting that they are in another world again and away from her home that she can lock these moments away in the compartments of her mind that separate reality and these fantasy experiences.

Loud cheering from across the room breaks the intense gaze between them. Emma exhales and takes a drink of water, watching the group of men begin to play music. They tease each other about their singing voices as they start a song off-key, a couple of the rowdier ones getting up to dance with no coordination. The other patrons clap and cheer them on, some of them joining in with the dancing.

“Go on loves, join in!” Sylvia encourages them with a wink as she clears away their bowls. Hook grins wickedly, taking great pleasure in the way she groans with dread.

“Nope. You can’t get me up there, I have no idea what this jig type thing even is.” She says firmly, watching a couple shake their legs in strange ways as they twirl around.

“Then it’s a good thing you have a partner who knows what he’s doing.” She can’t help but stare wide eyed at Hook as he stands up, offering with his hand with a warm smile. With a wince, she puts her hand in his and lets him lead her to the middle of the room, holding on to him as he positions them for the dance.

“Remember I have a damn concussion, Hook.” Emma grumbles, breathing in sharply when he brings her closer to his chest.

“I’ll go easy on you, love.” He whispers in her ear as his stubble grazes her cheek. He guides her through some basic moves, and she feels laughter bubble up in her chest at the absurdity of the situation. They manage to jump and twist in time to the music a few times, both of them laughing at her lack of coordination despite him practically leading each of her body parts that needed to move. Emma finds herself enjoying it, giggling happily when she eventually starts to pick it up. When the music begins to pick up in tempo she sways into Hook, feeling a little overwhelmed by the fast movements. He responds by holding her waist and tucking her against his shoulder as they sway slightly. They’re no longer moving to the music, but she finds that she doesn’t care that they’re swaying slowly near the rowdy crowd still skipping about.

“How do you know how to dance like that?” Emma murmurs close to his ear.

“The crew and I would frequent taverns like this and picked it up. We even danced on the Jolly some nights, especially in the summer when the air was warm and smelled sweet.” She hears the sadness in his voice, and she realizes she doesn’t know what happened to Hook during the missing year or where his ship was.

“What happened to the Jolly?”

“An illustrious bean seller has her.” Hook says quietly, and Emma leans back to look at him. She searches his eyes, and it dawns on her what he means.

“You traded your ship for me?”

“Aye.”

She’s overwhelmed by this revelation and for the first time stops overthinking and just reacts, her lips finding his with relief. It feels warm and comforting to be in his embrace, and for the first time since leaving New York, she truly feels the spark of her old life reignited. It’s then when she feels the stir of passion and peace swell inside her a wave of exhaustion hits her and she sinks into him weakly.

“As much as I love a woman swooning at my feet Swan, you need to rest now.” Hook teases, kissing her forehead gently. They leave the boisterous fun of the tavern for the quiet chill of their room for the night and Emma practically collapses into bed, her limbs screaming out for rest. She’s already slipping into sleep when she feels Hook kiss her cheek and she dozes off to the burn of desire from the high of their kiss.

-/-

Hook wakes up to a pressure against his right side, twitching his nose at the tickle of hair. It takes him a moment to adjust to the dim light of early morning before realizing it’s Emma, pressed against him and deeply asleep still. She must have climbed into his bed at some point in the night, but he has no memory of being stirred in his sleep (he most certainly would have remembered Emma Swan coming into his bed).

The beds were small and certainly not made for two people, but he’s far from mad to have her body against his in the morning. Their kiss last night had been unexpected to say the least. Hook had been well aware that the truth of his ship’s whereabouts would come to light at some point given that they needed to find the man who had it, but he thought perhaps Emma wouldn’t realize what exactly had transpired. For the sake of their relationship, he was glad she had seemed to know the gravity of it. Hook stays in bed for a while, holding Emma as she sleeps. He dozes in and out until she begins waking up.

“Morning, Swan.” He says warmly, watching as she frowns and takes in her surroundings.

“Um, hi. I’m sorry, I was freezing.” She says all flustered, wriggling out of bed quickly.

“No worries, I was too.” Emma nods apprehensively at him, rubbing her eyes sleepily. They awkwardly dance around each other as they splash water on their faces and shrug on their cloak and jacket, ready to leave as Hook hoists up the sack. Sylvia convinces them to grab breakfast before they leave, shoving bread rolls in their hands as they head out. The port isn’t too far, but it’s another decent walk there and he’s grateful for the sustenance.

This walk feels more comfortable between them than the one to the castle and despite the awkwardness after waking up, Emma seems more relaxed now. He teases her about watching out for rocks on the path, laughing when she playfully shoves him into the grass. He feels these moments from Emma are rare, so he cherishes the sound of her laugh and the curve of her smile. They hadn’t broached the topic of New York again, and Hook thinks it best to leave it until they return to Storybrooke. Perhaps their little quest will help defeat this new foe quickly and Emma can appreciate her exposure to the magical world. Or perhaps she will decide to still go, but he can go with her. The noisy, busy streets of her city would be bearable if it meant still having her in his life.

The brilliant blue of the water rests ahead and before long he recognizes the Jolly, his heart sinking at the thought of his home belonging to another. He had wondered if he would ever see it again, which may have been the less painful scenario than seeing another captain at the helm.

“I’ll do the bargaining, lass. This is personal between Blackbeard and I, so it’s best you stay back.” Hook warns Emma as they reach the ship, still glorious and majestic in comparison to the other ships around her.

“I can hold my own, Hook. This is my bargain too, is it not?” Emma retorts. He shakes his head, wishing she hadn’t taken his words as a dismissal of her strength.

“Aye, but Blackbeard is cruel. If he sees how important this is to you, he will do something vindictive. And quite honestly, I’m concerned he will hurt you if he knows how much you mean to me.” Emma opens and closes her mouth but doesn’t seem to find the words to respond and simply nods.

She hangs back while he walks up the ramp and onto the ship, surveying the small changes made here and there. He did not see a familiar face in the crew, but most of his had been loyal and left when he did, some finding other crews to join and others venturing off elsewhere.

“Hook, as I live and breathe! I did not expect to see your sorry soul standing on this ship ever again.” Blackbeard bellows, an arrogant smile on his face.

“I’m in need of another bean.” Hook says curtly.

“You blew through the two I gave you already? What the hell are you playing at, mate?”

“Do you have another or not?”

“Aye, but the cost…do you even have anything of value left to trade?” Blackbeard inspects him, his eyes landing on the sack of Regina’s things. Hook tosses it to him, watching him catch it with intrigue.

“Take your pick.”

Blackbeard rifles through and snorts obnoxiously.

“Trinkets? Jars? What fool do you take me for? You must be desperate coming to me with this junk in search of a bean. Why do want one so badly?” Blackbeard stares intensely waiting for him to crack. Hook matches his gaze silently, but he sees Blackbeard’s eyes wander to the harbour and with a sinking feeling, Hook knows by the grin on his face that he has seen Emma.

“A woman, of course. The very same woman you needed the first bean for perhaps? She’s a beauty, that’s for sure. Well, in that case, what is she worth to you?” He challenges, smug that he has Hook in such a position.

“Name your price.” Hook grits out.

“Oh, you love her. In that case…your life of servitude for a bean. She gets the bean; I own your soul.”

Hook feels the colour drain from his face. This had been a risky plan all along, but such a bargain was so painfully steep he was taken aback. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been considering he truly does not have anything else to offer beyond his own life. But this was his plan, and he would be damned if Emma suffered because of it.

“Fine. Deal. But I get to give her the bean myself and say goodbye.” Hook says wistfully. Blackbeard actually looks surprised for a moment, but he shrugs and gives Hook the precious bean from a little pouch in his pocket, along with the sack of Regina’s apparently worthless items. He heads back to Emma, trying to keep a neutral face but struggling.

“So, you got it, right? What was the trade?”

“Here it is, Swan. Take it. You’ll be home in no time.” He evades as he curls the bean into her hand, clicking his tongue when Emma glares at him.

“Hook, what did you do to get it?”

“I’ll remain here and work for Blackbeard.”

“Okay…for how long?”

“The rest of my life I suppose.”

“No. Absolutely not, we can find another way to get back.” Emma shakes her head vehemently.

“The town needs you too much. We don’t know what has transpired while we’ve been gone, and you need to get Regina her things and be with your boy.” Hook says softly.

“They need you too.” Emma replies, reaching for his hand when he shakes his head.

“Killian…I need you.” His chest aches at the way she uses his name. Her words both fill his chest with happiness and break his heart; of course she expresses such a sentiment when they must part once more. Her fingers are laced between his and he holds her gentle hand tightly, not ready to let go.

“You don’t, Swan. You did just fine without me the for the past year.” He replies with a short humourless laugh.

“Because I didn’t remember you. If I did…I don’t think I would have started seeing Walsh. Maybe I would have-”

“No use speculating now, lass. It’s in the past, but right now you need to worry about your family and the town. Don’t worry about me.” He makes sure she has the bag of Regina’s things and kisses her cheek softly, smiling sadly when she dips her head and brushes against him.

“Not a day will go by that I won’t think of you.” She whispers.

“Good.” He responds, wishing that perhaps this goodbye will only be temporary like the last turned out to be, but the reality of Blackbeard’s bargain weighs heavily on him and Emma already feels a world away from his damned soul. They linger for a moment longer before separating, Emma exhaling and looking at the bean as she walks away from him and out of the busy docking area, turning back with a wistful smile only once. He waits until he sees her go through the portal in the distance before heading back onto the Jolly, ignoring Blackbeard’s taunts to retreat below deck.

He’s home, but without his freedom and without the woman he loves. A more sensible man would also be without hope, but when he meets the crew, he sees a few familiar faces, and the way they call him captain in hushed tones stirs something in him to fight to get back what he has lost. He’ll bide his time, but after being around the heroes, their penchant for hope has certainly inspired him.

-/-

Things never seem to slow when Emma returns. In the time that she had been gone, Regina had discovered that it had been her sister Zelena who cast the curse and she had been masquerading as Snow’s midwife. She had barely been back a day when they finally found Neal, but she lost him again just as quickly as he had come back. The reasons for returning to New York only grew with every painful and dangerous thing that happened. She even tried working on her magic and learning from Regina, but when Zelena took her newborn sibling in an attempt to cast a ridiculous time travel spell, Emma had had it.

She would be leaving for New York once her parents were settled with her brother, and not a moment later.

But the reported sighting of the Jolly Roger down by the harbour had her pause her exit plans.

Emma had avoided speaking of Hook, simply telling people when she returned that he had decided to remain in the Enchanted Forest. No one seemed convinced, but thankfully didn’t push her on it. In some twisted way she had been pleased to have so much to deal with that she didn’t have time to think about what his absence meant for her, but in quiet moments of respite, she longed for the warmth of his presence in her life.

When she gets the text about the Jolly, she races down to the docks, wishing she had taken her car as she carries Henry’s book with her rather awkwardly. She finally gets close enough to see the little figures of people walking about the deck, and if she squints really hard, she thinks she can see Hook.

It’s unmistakably him when she reaches the ship and she calls his name, smiling at his reaction as his eyes find her. She hurries up the ramp and throws her arms around him so hard the book slams into his back, causing him to chuckle into her hair.

“Hi, Swan.”

“Hi, I’m sorry I just didn’t think I’d ever really see you again. How did you get the ship back from Blackbeard? Did you use another bean to get here? How the hell does he have so many?” She rattles off, tucking the book under her arm after their embrace.

“I’ll explain all later, but more importantly, what happened here? Did you figure out who cast the curse?” He asks with concern, looking over her to make sure she was okay and frowning at the book.

“It was Regina’s sister, the Wicked Witch of the West. It was some sibling rivalry crap, but she wanted my baby brother for a time travel spell and mayhem ensued. We’ve stopped her but…I’ve lost my magic and we lost Neal.” Hook reaches out for her and she leans in to his touch, relieved to feel the spark of comfort she usually feels around him.

“I’m so sorry, Swan.”

“Look, I know how you feel about it, but I just really wanted to go back to New York after all this. Henry gave me his book to remind me of the magic that makes up our family history, and I’ve been trying but I’m just…exhausted.” Emma sighs, sinking into him when he reaches his arm out to embrace her.

“Well, I just got here, you can’t leave now.” Hook jokes softly. Emma is about to respond with a quip of her own when she sees a beam of light flash in the distance.

“What the hell is that?” Emma mutters, trying to figure out where the light was coming from. She has a horrible suspicion that it may be coming from the barn and she groans, tugging on Hook’s jacket sleeve to follow her as she heads over there.

“David left a message, Zelena died and somehow triggered the time portal.” Emma yells over the loud noise of the magic when they reach the barn.

“Emma, perhaps we shouldn’t get too close.”

“We need to close it!”

They swirl around in a magical portal once again, being thrown into another unexpected and unpredictable adventure. But, as always, Hook is by her side, and she’s realizing that despite the pain magic has caused in her life, it has also brought him into her life, and maybe it’s about facing the hardships together.

“You don’t have your magic, it’s too dangerous."

"But-"

She’s interrupted by the sheer force of the magic pulling them toward the portal and they cling to each other as they tumble on the ground roughly. They both struggle to avoid falling in, Hook using his appendage to grip onto the ground. Emma holds on to his hand, but she feels herself slipping away and she’s worried he’ll leave her to fall into the unknown hole of time. She meets his eyes, and he lifts his hook to fall in with her.

And so she decides to do just that. When their little adventure in the past comes to an end, after witnessing her parents fall in love, attending a ball, almost losing her mother, and maybe falling in love with Captain Hook along the way, she decides to make Storybrooke her home. There are the occasional foes in town, but it is a place full of family, friends, and love, and they can face anything together.

[thesvenqueen]

With All My Love

Rating: M  Pairing: Kristanna (as if it would be anything else) 

Also on AO3  Previous Chapters

{Chapter 11}

“Have you named them?”

Kristoff chuckles, “No I haven’t.”

“And why not?”

He shrugs, “No reason to really.”

Anna pokes his side, “There is a reason, they need names.”

“I know,” He says, looking down at her, “You’ve told me once before.”

She pauses her antics, looking up at him slightly confused, “I have?”

He nods, “In a letter, once before. I mentioned I had a few chickens and your first question was if I’d named them.” He smirks at her, “You said nearly the same thing when I said I hadn’t.”

Anna blushes as she looks away, embarrassed by the thought that she didn’t remember such a conversation. Would he be hurt to know she couldn’t remember? “I’m sorry...I don’t..”

“Hey,” He squeezes her hand, willing her to look back to him, and she does, finding his eyes soft, always so soft when he looks at her, “It’s ok. It was a long time ago.” 

She returns the smile sheepishly, remembering the kiss they’d shared just moments ago and with him looking at her with his lopsided grin, how much she wanted to steal another.

Before she can even think to make a move, he nods over to the barn, “Come on then.”

“Can I still name them?”

“Only if you want to.”

She does, much to Kristoff’s teasing, and they were simple enough. Sunny for the yellow hen, Autumn for the brown one, Olaf for the smallest of the bunch, a fluffy, white hen, and Grumps for the Rooster.

“Grumps?”

“He tried to peck me.”

“Anna, you had seed in your hand.”

She shrugs, “He charged at me and tried to peck me, he’s a grump so he will be named Grump.”

Anna swears that the rooster glares at her as she leaves.

~.~

“He’ll try to get you to brush him longer, but he only needs a quick rub down. Nothing else. He just likes the attention, the big ham.”

Sven looks up at that, seeming to be offended by the name calling. He snorts at Kristoff, which sends a few bits of hay and slobber his way. Anna giggles as Kristoff groans while he wipes away the bit of muck, Sven shaking his head as though he was laughing along with her.

“Nothing wrong with a little attention, is there Sven?” She says, scratching behind the creature's ears. The creature looks to her, smiling appreciatively. 

“You say that now, just watch, he’ll keep you here all day if you’re not careful.”

Anna hums, “I wouldn’t mind.” 

“I would.” Kristoff says, teasing. 

“And why is that?”

“Keeps you away from me.”

Anna blushes, watching as he takes the two steps towards her and wraps his arms around her waist loosely. She doesn’t wait then, standing on her tiptoes and leaning in. He meets her half way with another soft, tender kiss that makes Anna feel like she’s flying, soaring above the clouds. 

Sven doesn’t seem to enjoy the moment as much, as a loud grunt comes minutes (was it minutes?) later. 

~.~

“Have you ever thought about a goat? Or a sheep? Oh, or a cat?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It would be another animal to feed and take care of plus,” Kristoff says, “Sven gets easily jealous.”

“But the goat could eat the weeds and give him company. And a cat could keep the mice away!”

“True but…”

“And a sheep could give you wool! I can knit, a bit at least, Gerda taught me as much as she could and I can make you a sweater or OH! A blanket or even a hat, a new one.”

“I like my hat just fine, thank you.”

“How long have you had it?”

He shrugs.

“See! I could make a new one, a really soft one if there was a sheep.”

“Maybe,” Kristoff says, closing the barn door. “It’s not a bad idea.”

Anna smiles, raising up to kiss him on the cheek. “See, I have good ideas.”

“Never said you didn’t.” He teases. 

“Still, I have the best ideas.”

“That...remains to be seen.”

She giggles, leaning her head against his arm as they move towards the back of the cabin hand in hand. Another idea pops in her head, “Oh, how bout a pig?”

“Absolutely not.”

~.~

The garden, much like everything else here, is fairly simple. It sits behind the cabin, a neat little square with a few vegetables growing, some spices, and some flowers that Anna thinks may be weeds. 

Still, it’s perfect. 

“I’ve always wanted a garden.” Anna says, running her hand along the tops of a few waist high crops that Kristoff said were corn. 

“You didn’t have one at the castle?”

Anna shakes her head, “Not like this. Our garden was more just the castle grounds. Some flowers planted around. All our food we bought from the village. It’s fine, of course, helped the village and the people but I always loved the idea of growing it myself.” 

There had been a few times Anna had mentioned such an idea to Gerda. Unfortunately, it would fall on deaf ears. Gerda, of course, had loved the idea but no one within the castle was as keen to it. It was another duty, another chore that no one wanted to do. Anna had nearly suggested she herself could tend it to, but again, it would be more teaching and learning before she could fully handle it on her own. 

Something that she knew no one would really want to assist with either. Still, the thought of getting her hands dirty, to tend to it during the day, to feel accomplished at the fact that she had achieved something was something she’d longed for. Would make her feel as thought she’d accomplished something for once.

Kristoff crosses his arms along the top of the hoe he’d brought along, laying his head on top of it as he eyes her, “Well, is there anything specific you want to grow?”

Anna shrugs, “I’m willing to grow anything really…”

“But?”

“...but I’ve always wanted to grow flowers.”

“Not surprised.”

Anna rolls her eyes at him, smirking, “Not a lot. Just...a few. Or one really.”

“Which one?”

“A sunflower.” Anna smiles, looking back to the small, sprouting cabbages. “We never had them growing at the castle, not often anyways. But Gerda always managed to snag one or two when she’d make trips to the village in the summer, bring them when she could for me. They’re my favorites.” 

Kristoff smiles at her, tilting his head, “They’re not the easiest to come by but...maybe next time I make a delivery, I can try to see what I can find. I’m sure someone in the village is selling seeds.”

Anna looks at him, smiling at the thought of her own sunflowers growing. Though the idea of him returning to Arendelle sparks a feel of dread deep within her. 

~.~

There’s not much laundry, but they decide to do it all the same. Something for Anna to learn, she says, to burn more time. 

So they walk to the nearby river, Kristoff carrying the tub & washboard. 

There is a silence between them that’s comfortable, one that Anna feels no desire to break. Normally, any bit of silence has her on edge, uncomfortable by the stillness. At the moment, however, it’s nice. Nothing but the sound of the birds, the slight breeze rustingly the trees, the sound of rushing water in the distance. 

When they do arrive at the river, after showing Anna how to use the waterboard, they talk.

It’s as though they’ve known each other for years, which in hindsight they have, but the easiness of their conversation does not go unnoticed by her. 

The awkwardness between them has left, completely evaporated and leaving behind an air of ease and contentment. No, not content, happiness, joy. 

They talk of his week, what news Kristoff has heard in the village and the latest gossip. 

She shares, now that she’s able, what she can about the castle. He doesn’t have many questions, though Anna suspects he is holding some back out of respect, but it’s nice to finally be able to speak about it all the same. 

“How did you get the job at the castle anyways?”

“Bit of luck really.” Kristoff says, taking a shirt from her to wring out. “I’d just started, the new guy you could say and one of the older harvesters mentioned how a delivery was needed to the castle. He usually did it but he was too busy to make it. I overheard and volunteered.”

“Wanted to see the castle, huh?” She teased. 

He chuckled, “That and the money was good. Really good actually, better than most sales I make in the square.”

“And you just kept going.” 

Kristoff shrugged, wringing the shirt once more, “After that, I kept getting the requests and handling it so it became my job. The guy didn’t seem to care, took a duty off his plate I think, and I was glad to do so.”

“Me too,” Anna says with a smile, glancing up at him as he blushed just so, “Don’t know what I’d done without you honestly.” Anna said, scrubbing her dress against the washboard. “Was always nice to talk to someone outside the castle for a change.”

He pauses after she answers, a turn from the ease and flow they’d had for a while now. It makes Anna look up, seeing him stare into the water, shirt still in his hand. 

“Kristoff?”

“You said you were lonely.” He says, keeping his eyes to the river, “I knew it had to be hard, but now, knowing you were in that huge castle alone like that for so long…I had no idea...”

Anna pauses her own work, going to him and taking the shirt gently from his hands. She places it in the bucket before taking the shirts place, having his arms wrapped around her, her hands on his chest. 

“It’s ok,” She murmurs, smiling gently at him, “I’m ok.”

Kristoff smiles meekly at her, a storm in his eyes that Anna has not seen before but one that does not bring her much concern. It’s not one of turmoil or anger, but hurt and sadness. His hands clutch her dress, his arms growing tighter around her so she is as close as she can be to him now, his head leaning against her own. “You’ll never have to live like that, ever again Anna.” He whispers, a secret made between them, “I swear it.”

Another promise, one that Anna knows he will keep as he’s already kept many before. She bites her lip before nodding her head, words escaping her. She lets her kiss speak for her, pouring as much love into it as she can. His hand moves to the back of her head, fingers tangling into her hair as his other hand squeezes her hip. Her own hands find the nape of his neck, nails grazing softly along his scalp. 

She could do this forever, she thinks, kissing him, being with him. With all she has, she hopes she can.

[thiswasinevitableid]

This Bites (Indruck)

The prompt for the 24th was: Midnight Ball. This one is NSFW, and a vampire AU, so there are mentions of blood (but nothing graphic).

Technically the ball begins at nine in the evening. Midnight is the highpoint, the turnover from October 30th to the most revered day of the year. 

Indrid and the other residents of Sylvain Manor have spent the day preparing, decorating the halls and ballroom while removing inconvenient items such as mirrors (he’s grown used to not seeing himself in them, but he wishes to offer his guests the courtesy of not giving themselves away).

By nine thirty, the band is playing lively waltzes as couples spin across the floor and friends laugh in small clusters, sipping wine and tasting the various delights Barclay prepared. The cook is nowhere to be seen, but Indrid knows he’s snuck off to his quarters with a certain human, the werewolf unwilling to wait until midnight for his kiss. 

His friend's starry-eyed love is the only reason he will ever permit a monster hunter anywhere on his grounds. Indrid is not a violent man by any means, but he will do whatever is needed to keep himself and the others in his care safe. 

A downside to this approach is that he is warier of some of the townsfolk than he otherwise would be, and they in turn see little of him and think him aloof. Which is why he’s lurking in the corner at his own party. 

An absurd, charming laugh catches his ear, and when he locates the source he’s certain his long-stopped heart restarts.

The man is dressed in a deep brown suit, cut to accentuate muscular arms and pleasingly strong looking thighs. He must be one of the local farmers, or perhaps a tradesman, as his shoulders and slightly weathered face point to work outside and his bearing lacks the self-satisfaction of a member of the aristocracy. He’s talking with Dani and her human girlfriend, Aubrey, smiling a little crooked when Aubrey tells a joke. Then another dance begins, and the two women excuse themselves to the main floor. 

Indrid waits to see if someone else will approach him, not wanting to interfere if the man is here with a partner or a friend. But the man simply sips his wine and steps back into the corner out of the way of the widening crowd of dancers. Indrid inches along the banquet table, terrified of being presumptuous. Then the man adjusts his tie, no doubt from the heat of the large fire in the fireplace, showing a delicious stripe of neck. 

A quick check of the future indicates his approach will be well-received, and he’s at the man’s side in four quick strides. 

“May I have this waltz?”

“Uh” The stranger looks behind himself, then back at Indrid, “sure. Can’t promise I’ll be much good.”

“I am not known for my grace either, so we will make a fine pair. Shall I lead?”

“Only if you promise not to crash me into anyone.”

“I will do my best.”  Indrid places a gloved hand on his hip, enjoys the warmth seeping through when their fingers link.

After two bars of the song, he says over the music, “since an introduction seems only proper, my name is Indrid. What is yours?”

“Duck.”

He grins; hearing that name was just as charming in the moment as it was in his head. 

“It’s a nickname.” Duck steadies him with the  hand on his shoulder as Indrid nearly collides them with another couple, “there, uh, there a reason you asked me to dance?”

Indrid cocks his head, “I wanted to. Cliche though it may be, I spotted you from the across the room and wished to know you better.”

“Oh” red blooms across his cheeks and he looks down, which causes them both to elbow an unfortunate passerby, “fuck, sorry. I, uh, well, just didn’t come here tonight thinkin anyone would be that interested in dancin’.”

“Not even the person who invited you?”

“Aubrey’s awful busy, wouldn’t you say?” He nods towards the two women trading kisses as they dance. 

“Ah, of course. Well, I am certainly glad she brought you.” He hopes his smile comes across dazzling rather than predatory, a fine line he trips over more often than he’d like.

Duck meets his eyes, studies him a beat, then grins right back “Seems to me there’s plenty of arm-candy here already.”

“Yes, but I suspect you are far more than a handsome face.”

That laugh again, making Indrid melt like the candles, “Jesus, you get right to it don’t you?”

“Oh, ah, apologies, I did not mean to be too blunt.”

“I don’t mind, darlin. Like I said, just wasn’t expecting itoof, sorry.” Duck sends a chagrined glance at the man whose foot he just stepped on. 

“Would you like to continue talking somewhere less, ah, perilous for us and everyone else?”

“Lead the way.”

Indrid chooses the gardens as their destination, annoyed when more and more clouds cover the moon, obscuring his view of the plants and--more importantly--of Duck.

“Damn, this is impressive stuff out here. Some of this is real tricky to grow.”

“Really? I must admit my own knowledge of gardening is limited to appreciating its results.”

Duck trails his hand up the trunk of what Indrid is mostly-sure is an Oak tree, “Takes all kinds of things to make a healthy garden. Healthy forest too. Too much light, too little water, the wrong place to try and take root, those kinds of things can make it hard for a plant to grow, same as a human.”

“I take it you have an affinity for helping one of those two categories grow.”

“Try to help both when I can. Love takin care of the forest, but Kepler’s my home; I wanna keep it safe, wanna see it grow rather than crumble away.” He moves to another tree, admiring it, and Indrid follows him through the grove, listening as he talks about the plants, about the town, about his work as an arborist. Duck makes him laugh, draws him into an involved conversation about the merits of different orchards and the manners of cats compared to ravens. 

“You been in Kepler long?” They’re shoulder to shoulder now, strolling through the last, stubborn roses of the year. 

“For a time. I wandered around quite a bit before arriving here. I had a run of, ah, of bad luck. Or maybe it was inevitable that I found my way here.”

“Eh, fate and shit ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Bitterness edges around his words, “and some folks give it more credit than it deserves.”

Indrid, futures and timelines churning in his mind, finds this statement perplexing and inspiring in equal measure.

“Fate being what it may, I think we ought to return inside”  He points to the mounting clouds, “I’m certain we are about to be rained on.”

Duck sniffs the air, “Smells like it. Wouldn’t mind all that much except this is the only suit I own.”

“Can’t have such a lovely thing getting ruined.” Indrid purrs, taking Duck’s offered arm. 

They make it to the top of the front stairs just as rain patters on the cobblestones, and two younger vampires vacate their seats by the fire the moment they notice Indrid eyeing them. Someone brings them drinks as they talk, Indrid too focused on Duck to notice who it was or what they gave him until he sips and discovers wine, which he does not like. Well, if nothing else, holding it will give him some way to occupy his hand and keep it from creeping up Duck’s thigh. 

With the exception of occasional glances at the clock or around the room, Duck’s attention is on him the entire time. As the hands of time move closer to midnight, the conversation turns to Indrid’s hobbies and his fondness for art. 

“I draw as well, for pleasure and, ah professional reasons.”

“You got any specialties?”

“A few. Would you like to see them?”

“Hell yeah.” 

It’s a short trip up the stairs, Duck keeping their arms linked until they reach the door of his study, having to separate so Indrid can unlock it. As they enter, Duck spots the commission he’s been working on.

“You do portraits?”

“Indeed.” Indrid looks over his shoulder, “are you offering to model for me, Duck?”

“Depends on the kind of modelin.” Duck grins before turning to shut the door.

Picking up his sketchbook, there’s a click of a lock. Goodness, here he thought he’d need to use the rain as an excuse for why Duck would surely need to stay the night in his bed. 

He’s debating the two sketchbooks, prouder of the plant ones but needing to be sure there are no disaster sketches in the mix, when Duck grips his upper arms, spinning them face to face.

“Indrid, look, we ain’t got much time. We gotta get out of here.”

“I...I do not understand.”

“Look, I don’t know who invited you, but this party ain’t what it seems. And, uh, I ain’t exactly either. This is a fuckin vampire ball.”

“And you are a…?” He’s certain Duck is not vampiric, but why would he tell him if he was human-

Oh no. 

“I’m here on a mission, it’s a long story, but I’m a vampire hunter.”

Oh no

Indrid looks at the future, something he ought to have done much sooner, and steps out of striking range. 

“I’m supposed to take down the vamp who runs this place, but I ain’t been able to spot him, which means he might know I’m here. I’m gonna make a break for town, and I want you to come with me. Indrid I, I can’t stand the idea of you bein where Baron Cold can get you.”

“I” he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, “I appreciate your concern Duck. But I promise you I’m in no danger from the baron. After all, I have no intention of harming myself.”

-----------------------------------------

See, this is why he kept telling Minerva he wasn’t cut out for this. Because not only has he been romancing a vampire all night without knowing, he’s been flirting with the guy he’s supposed to kill.

Indrid must have worn a glamour  to disguise himself the last time he was seen in town. Duck’s been working from the wrong description this entire time.

“You gotta be fuckin kiddin me.”

“I wish I was.” Indrid’s lips twitch into a frown, “just as I wish you were joking about coming into my home to hurt me.”

“It’s gotta be done.” Duck says more to himself than to the vampire.

“No, it really doesn’t. For goodness sake, two minutes ago you didn’t want me to get hurt!”

“Yeah, because you probably put me under a fuckin thrall or some shit!”

“I did no such thing. Believe me, if you were under my thrall, you would know.” Indrid says flatly, only to hiss when Duck removes a stake from his trick pocket. 

“It, it don’t matter. Because I ain’t under now.”

“Duck, you don’t want to do this.”

He doesn’t dare answer, in case the truth comes out. But before he can move, Indrid slides his glasses down his nose, revealing red eyes. 

“You will not move.”

His muscles lock up, his feet turn to lead, and he gets bitter confirmation that how he felt about Indrid all night came from nowhere but himself. 

“As I said, my thrall is very obvious.” Indrid plucks the stake from his hand, tossing it into the fire. Pats down his sides, roots through his pockets and the tops of his boots, muttering all the while.

“Foolish...distracted...should have known....rude human.” He punctuates the last words by hurling Duck’s sword (disguised as his belt) out the window. 

“Hey, I ain’t the one bitin folks.”

Indrid whirls, snarling, “I have not nonconsensually taken anyone’s blood in years.”

“And you were gonna do what once you got me up here?” Duck manages to cross his arms. 

“Show you my drawings! I thought you wanted to see them.” The vampire has the audacity to look hurt.

“I did.” The truth darts out before he can stop it, and so he covers with more annoyance, “But I don’t buy that was really all?”

“Fine, if you must know, I was going to suggest that you spend the night on account of the weather, and perhaps you would like to do so in my bed.”

Yeah, okay, he was definitely  going to bite him. 

“Just” Indrid hugs himself, “just go. I will let the thrall down, and not alert anyone to your presence.”

His body comes under his control once again.

A half-second before Duck moves, Indrid says, “Don’t you dare.”

Duck’s already committed to his attack, figuring he can at least subdue Indrid and get him into town. He doesn’t get the chance. Indrid grabs him and spins him with significant strength, slamming him into the bookcase. He can’t get his right arm free as it’s twisted behind his back,  and the left is pinned, splayed out beneath Indrid’s gloved fingers. Apparently all the Chosen strength in the world can’t help him against a pissed-off vampire. 

“That.” Indrid growls in his ear, “was not polite.”

“Would you knock it off with all that manners bullshit and just get it over with?” He mumbles into the hardcovers.

“Get what over with?”

“The thing you brought me up here for.” He turns his head, glaring at the vampire who, for his part, looks confused. Then he grins, bringing his mouth dangerously close to Ducks neck. 

Cold, but very lively, lips connect with his, Indrid humming when Duck tips his head to deepen the kiss. 

The vampire pulls back to nuzzle his cheek, “That was what I hoped for from you. But since you seem rather, ah, fixated on the biting..”

“AH!”

A chuckle vibrates up his neck as Indrid latches onto it, and Duck clenches his teeth, terrified that if he speaks, he’ll ask for more. 

When Indrid releases the skin, the hunter stares at the bruise. 

“There, there ain't any holes.”

“I told you” Indrid lazily kisses his face, “I only do that with permission.” He gazes at Duck over the rims of his glasses, “is that something you wish to give me?” The hands lift from his wrists, the weight from his back, “or do you wish to depart?”

“I want” he rests his forehead against the books, “I want to, uh, to, know what it’s like. If you, uh, if you want toFUCK, ohgodohfuckAHhnnnn.” His whole body tenses when the fangs sink into the base of his neck, and for a moment he’s worried he’ll pass out in Indrid’s arms. 

Then the steel in his spine melts, pleasure rushing in to replace it, dripping into every vein. His fingers flex and curl helplessly, Indrids hands too busy forcing Ducks chin up and clinging to his waist to hold them. 

He’s never been this turned on in his goddamn life, and wishes he’d learned this about himself any other time but now, with anyone other than a vampire who has three hunters guilds, one assassin network, and two governors hungry for his head. 

Memories bubble up beneath that wish; Indrid in the hours prior, laughing and smiling when Duck told stories or bad jokes. How at ease he felt walking in the gardens with him, as if there was nowhere else he was meant to be. The look on his face when Duck agreed to dance 

He moans, squirming in Indrid’s hold, knowing he’s lost and unable to care that he has. 

The vampire isn’t faring much better, groaning into the bite, the hand on Ducks shirt gripping tighter and tighter. When Duck gasps at a burst of pain the groans and growls turn to a purr, the teeth retracting from his skin and replaced by soft licks and gentle kisses. 

“Is, is it always like that.”

“No. It is neutral to pleasant in most cases.”

“So what the, the fuck was that?”

“At a wild guess, you are discovering some new and interesting things about yourself.” Indrid grins like a fox that’s just been given free reign of a henhouse, “would you like to learn more? Or would you like to go?”

“More, fuck, Indrid please I, I’m-” he’s not certain what he’s trying to say, only that he wants Indrid to understand how badly he wants this. 

Indrid kneels, sets a hand on the small of his back, “Stay.”

The vampire makes quick work of his suspenders and pants, yanking them down to his ankles. Black gloves land near his left toe just as cold fingers caress the back of his thighs. 

“Mmmmmm, has anyone told you these” he squeezes, rubbing his thumb into the inner part of his thighs, “are downright sinful?”

“N-not for awhile.”

“A shame.” Indrid nips the left side of his ass, snickering when he swears. His right hand slips between Duck’s legs, rubbing his dick once before teasing up and down his folds.

“My, my, that is flattering. A handsome hunter, wet just for me.”

“Indrid, I swear, if you don’t stop teasin I'm gonna get my cross from wherever you tossed it.”

“I don’t think you are” Indrid rubs more roughly, neither touching his dick or sliding inside, “I think you are going to stay right here and let me sample this” he slaps Duck’s ass lightly, “for as long as I like.”

Duck giggles, “sample? It ain’t a whiskeyEEh, fuck, oh fuck me.” He thunks his head into his forearm as Indrid scatters bite marks across the sensitive skin. He’s not taking blood with them, seems content to watch the purple and red bruises as they bloom. 

Three fingers push up into him and he yelps, surprised.

“You did ask me to fuck you.” Indrid’s tone is level even as the slick sound of his fingers fucking him fill up the room. 

“It, it was, AHHnnn, a figure of, of speech, you, you fuckin-”

“Choose your words carefully, my sweet.”

“--unfairly good lookin, menace of a vampire.”

He’s spun fast enough to get dizzy, still trapped against the shelves by Indrid’s hands on his hips.

“I’ll show you a menace.” Is all he says before closing his lips around Duck’s dick, fingers still curving and thrusting inside him.

“You, y-you, fuck, and I got real different definitions of menaceOhhhhhh yeah, fuck yes, Indrid, that’s so good,” He cuts off into whimper when Indrid’s head dips down to bite his inner thigh. Threading his fingers into silvery hair gets him another bite and a moan of approval, Indrid continuing to rove his mouth between his dick and his thighs, sounding all the while like he’s enjoying a gourmet meal. 

“Sh-shit, Indrid, I’m close, keep doin that, pleaseplease” just as the orgasm starts building, Indrid pulls away, sitting on his heels with his hands in his lap.

“Is somethin wrong?”

The vampire stands, hands caressing Duck’s hips, cock hard beneath his dress pants,“There are rules, sweet one. Humans who break into my home to kill me do not get to cum.”

Duck whines, only to have Indrid shush him like he’s a fussing dog before kissing him.

“I, however, do get to cum” He undoes his fly, “using whatever method I see fit.”

There’s a tremendous ripping noise as he grabs Duck’s left thigh, pulling it up to hook precariously around his hip, as Duck’s still-booted foot tears out the cuff of his pants. 

“And you, dearest hunter, are the method I prefer.”

With that, he shoves his cock into him, dropping his head to kiss his neck as a Duck moans without caring who hears him. 

“Goodness, it’s been so long since I had my way with a human, I, I forgot how warm it is.”

“Warm you up whenever you want darlin. Fuck, fuck” He tries to hold his own weight but it’s getting harder, as all he wants to do is go limp and let Indrid take whatever he wants. His head is swimming with the slap of connecting skin and the protests of the bookcase, with Indrid’s moans as the vampire noses his neck. 

“Ah, this will do nicely.”

That same moment of complete tension, his body reacting to the teeth piercing his skin. He tightens around Indrid, weakly bucks his hips in search of release as the vampire switches to furious, sharp thrusts, releasing Duck’s neck with a messy gasp. 

“Nmmm, I hate to stop, but I hate even more for you to grow weak and faint. After all, I need you awake until I am finished.” He presses Ducks thigh up, the angle borderline painful, as his hips stutter. Duck’s nails dig into the wooden shelf as Indrid’s words sink deeper and deeper into his core. He moans at the thought of letting the vampire fuck and feed from him until he passes out, of being helpless in a bed somewhere, his world starting and ending with-

“Indrid” he whimpers as the vampire cums, slamming all the way in and grinding with high gasps as he finishes in him. 

Slowly, his foot finds the ground and Indrid holds him closer, both of them panting. Duck wraps his arms around his waist, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric of his jacket. 

“You really ain’t lettin me cum?”

“I believe my rules were quite clear.”

He sighs happily, the denial somehow just as pleasant to his mind as the completion would be. Indrid smiles as he presses a kiss to his temple, laughs softly when Duck gives one to his shoulder in response. He feels so safe here, Indrid draped around him, that reality’s return is akin to a knife in the gut.

“What happens now?”

“Well” Indrid pets Ducks hair, “as of this moment, there are two futures; you depart, are scolded by your fellow hunters and assassins, and return next week with the same goal that brought you here tonight. Or, you prove just as stubborn as you were earlier tonight, and come back to me tomorrow evening, heedless of your mission.”

“Seems to me there’s one of those you'd like me to do.”

Indrid steps back, still holding him but able to more easily meet his eyes, “There is one I would prefer, yes. But ultimately it is not up to me to tell you which path to take. Your destiny is yours to decide, even if you decide something that does not work in my favor.”

This is too heavy a conversation to get into with his pants down. Not when he’s not sure what the right thing for his town, his friends, himself is. Not when Indrid is still so close, smile blood-tinted but so tender Duck wants to tuck it away and keep it safe.

He knows what he wants, just not what he should do.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it.”

Indrid nods,guides him in for one final kiss, soft and sweet as a sunrise, “That is all I ask.”

-----------------------------------------

He watches Duck from the bedroom window, his figure growing fainter the further he gets down the road.

Then the human turns, pausing long enough for Indrid to realize he sees him. Not knowing what else to do, he waves.

Even from this distance, his night vision lets him catch the flash of that smile. The hunter blows him a kiss, which he pretends to catch.

And the futures of Duck coming back to him tomorrow night jump another twenty percent.

[varricmancer]

Lost And Found  | 4

Also available on AO3

Pairing: Varric Tethras x OC

Summary: Instead of the nothingness she had craved, Crystal woke up in the world of Thedas. What had once been merely a story that she loved now seemed very real and she was right in the heart of it all. She soon finds a reason to live again and a love in the arms of someone as quietly broken as her.

A/N: Okay, a million years later and here is Varric's POV. It's a bit choppy, but I meant for it to be like that because it's, ya know, from his POV. It's not a retelling of events but simply a glance into his mind. Also, he's a man - and a horny bastard at that - so there's a bit of nsfw thoughts going on in this chapter. Lots of body appreciation. I love writing characters that are already whipped and can't figure out what that means lmao. You poor sod, you had no chance.I'll try to be faster with the next chapter, because I'm just as excited as you guys to see what's happening

A wave of relief spread through the party as the clanging of swords and crinkle of lightning were silenced. As one, they holstered their weapons and strode back to the waiting wagon and the rest of their traveling companions.

Varric spared a glance for one of the bodies lying still as he passed - an unfortunate young apostate sporting one of his arrows in his chest.

Killing never got easier, never mind what kind of bullshit he spouted. No matter that it was his life or theirs - he’d still be seeing the startled green lifeless eyes of a boy barely reaching adulthood in his dreams, along with all of the countless others that already haunted him.

He sighed wearily and climbed back onto his pony, adjusting his saddle sore ass as well as he could while he waited for the party to get back into position. The wagon of supplies and it’s guards were back into place behind him soon enough, with the Seeker and “The Herald” leading in the front.

The group of fighting Templars and Apostates were cleared from the road ahead which lead to their destination of a little hamlet called the Crossroads. By all reports, it was a tiny village barely worthy of even being called that, but due to its position (and that fact that Redcliffe was unreachable at the moment), it had become a sanctuary for refugees and the wounded.

A chantry mother had sent word to Haven asking for help with protection and supplies. Apparently, she’d even asked for the Herald to come himself. They’d all agreed it was an excellent chance to get word out about their newly formed band of do-gooders and let the people get a look at Maxwell Trevalyn, the freshly dubbed Herald of Andraste.

Varric wasn’t too sure if it was true, but he’d also seen too much shit throughout the years to rule it out completely. Regardless of whatever lofty title they were trying to burden him with, Maxwell still looked like a scared kid who just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. However, the way he worked hard and silently accepted leadership despite being completely out of his element reminded Varric of Hawke in their early days - if he were tamer and had been raised as a pampered nobleman, that is.

The point was, Varric had taken one look at the kid and known he wasn’t going to be going home anytime soon. This Maxwell was going to make a name for himself and spawn a tale for the ages, he was sure - if he had the right kind of people watching out for him. He was getting too old for this shit and wanted to go home, but he felt like this kid was going to need someone in his corner. And this whole situation felt off in so many ways that he’d probably feel guilty if he did try to leave.

So that's how he found himself traveling around the godforsaken Hinterlands -  saddle sore, sunburnt and with a newfound hatred of bears - towards the beginning of their adventure. At first glance, this was simply a goodwill quest - show up and shake some hands, pass out food, kiss a few babies - but that group of apostates and templars that had been blocking the road were troubling. Sadly, he knew who to blame for it.

When the Crossroads came into view, he finally realized how much they were needed here. The chantry mother hadn’t mentioned how dire it really was or he suspected they would have sent help earlier. The people walking around were gaunt and dirty, many of them sporting bruises or missing limbs. They all looked severely malnourished, more so than the usual peasant. The moans and screams from the wounded were near-constant, adding to the practically visible cloud of desperation over the village. Add a bit more sewage stench and some unreasonably large rats and it would be just like good old Darktown.

They were able to spot the bright plumage of the chantry members working with the wounded and quickly made their way over to them. Villagers watched them with dawning hope in their eyes. A few of them started to cry and some of the children had even begun to cheer.

This. This was why Varric kept putting his own ass on the line all the time.

While Maxwell and Cassandra spoke to the chantry mother, Varric and Solas helped pass out the goods to the villagers. Soon enough, the pain in the ass bear that had attacked them earlier was chopped to bits and passed out among everyone to be cooked for the evening meal. Blankets and soaps, grain, and potions were all tearfully accepted by the people he handed them to. He may not be a very good man, but the joy he found in helping these people assured him that at least he wasn’t a bad one.

He was just handing off the last of the goods when Maxwell strides over, the weathered mother walking behind him imperiously.

“Everyone, this is Mother Giselle. She has some interesting news,” Maxwell grins, practically bouncing on his heels.

“Is it that everyone here is standing on death's doorstep? Because we noticed,” Varric drawled.

He was technically Andrastean, but that didn’t mean he let corrupt clergy off easy.

Her only tell that the words hit was a slight tick in her jaw as she nodded once.

“The situation here is deplorable, however, with the status of things we were unsure of where to ask for aid. I took a chance when I heard the hands of the Divine were involved in your “Inquisition.”

“And we are happy to help,” Cassandra stated as she rejoined the party. Her raised eyebrow towards Varric was something he’d long ago interpreted to mean behave .

“Yes, well,” Maxwell cleared his throat. “Mother Giselle says that another fell from a rift. A woman, no visible marks though.”

“An abomination perhaps?” Cassandra muses, standing straighter and placing a light hand on her sword.

“She appears to be a regular woman, free of magic or any signs of corruption. She fell from the rift and beyond a few broken bones and a few odd quirks here and there, nothing seems off about her,” Mother Giselle answers with a weary sigh. The way that she’d said ‘odd quirks’ like just mentioning them gave her a headache made Varric want to meet this woman very much.

The mother waved them away like annoying gnats soon after, with instructions to ask around for information on the area and what they could do to help. He supposed it was too much to expect her to already know that kind of (extremely important) information.

Thankfully, they found a soldier called Corporal Vale that seemed more informed and actually cared about taking care of the people there. Between him and a few others that piped in their opinions, the party discovered that what the people of the crossroads needed most right now was food and protection from the increasingly cold nights. They’d get a nice reprieve with the supplies that they’d brought from Haven, but that still wouldn’t be enough.

“I heard ye’re wanting to be put to work. I reckon I have a thing or two for ya,” a man called out as he strode towards them. They had just been discussing where to go from here, so anything was helpful.

“Of course, good sir. How may we assist you?” Maxwell plastered on his charming court smile, which seemed to have little effect on the man. Not that surprising considering the fellow looked as rugged and of the land as they come, and Maxwell reeked of privilege.

He grunts and looks over their little band as though he found them wanting, but good enough for now. His gaze only showed a sliver of appreciation when they landed on Cassadra (how original), then he seemed to meet Varric’s eyes straight on as though he assumed that he was really in charge.

“The goods that you brought us will help for a few days, but we’ll need more if we’re to recover enough to get back on our feet. Our lass Crystal says there’s a flock of rams over the hill. We’ve been unable to do any hunting what with the fighting all about so we’d appreciate if you brought in a few.”

“Of course,” Maxwell nods. “And you seem to know Crystal well?”

“Aye, I’m the mayor of this little corner. Know all my people. Whatever that daft old mother has been filling your head with needs to be ignored. Crystal is just a sweet and quiet lassie doing her best.”

“Oh, yes of course. We simply wanted to meet her.”

“After the hunting, if you please. She’s one of the ones that's been giving her rations to the little ones and I’ll not have her interrogated on an empty stomach.”

This Crystal must be quite the woman to inspire such loyalty despite her origins, Varric muses.

He can tell Maxwell has more questions, but with a few whispered words (orders) from Cassandra, they head off to hunt.

****

It was dark by the time they made it back and The Crossroads already appeared refreshed. There was a massive bonfire in the middle of the road where numerous pots and spits were working overtime to prepare the food they’d brought earlier. Kids were running around screaming and laughing as their parents watched with obvious relief. A few had even set up some rickety old instruments nearby to liven the place as they celebrated their newfound hope.

Several villagers rushed to greet their wagon and relieve them of the burden. They’d easily hunted down ten whole rams, stopping when it seemed like it would be enough to feed them for a few days and have enough left to preserve.

Varric wished there was more he could do at the moment, but he promised himself he’d write a few letters once they got back to Haven. A few favors called in and a bit of coin spread around and he’d have this little Hamlet healed in no time. And best of all, if he did it using the right channels, no one would know that Varric and his cursed bleeding heart was responsible for it.

Cassandra and Maxwell got pulled into a conversation with the Mother and the mayor (who had finally introduced himself as Giles) that Varric ignored as unimportant while he observed everyone else instead.

They already seemed in awe of Maxwell, sneaking glances his way with eyes shining with admiration. A few whispered words here and there would make today’s rescue seem more romantic than passing out a few slabs of dead sheep. It was always amazing watching the beginning of a legend be born.

His eyes flitted from one person to the next, all of them looking fairly similar as lower class humans tend to do. The sun-burnt skin, hunched backs, callused hands. The men smiling with three teeth left and the women looking haggard and drained after at least fifteen pregnancies.

It wasn’t until a couple of men moved to the side that he noticed the lone figure in the back.

At first glance, she was just as average as the rest. Peasant clothing without a shred of adornment anywhere. Injured somehow, as she had her left arm in a linen sling.  Normal brown hair and eyes, pale skin, thin lips. But something was telling him to take a second look, so he did. And then he began to observe the little things. The way that her skin was free of marks except for a few freckles, no sun-burnt patches, and semi-clean like she at least made an attempt to wash up here in the wilderness.

Her hair was basically average brown and pulled into a no-nonsense braid, but it was so long it reached her waist and when it caught the light of the fire it shone with a fiery copper highlight, as though to hint at hidden depths. Her eyes glinted like amber, big and trained on his party with just as much wonder as the rest of them. He thought they rather reminded him of Halla eyes. He didn’t believe a woman would find that complimentary though, so he’d try to think of something else.

Her lips were thin but appeared soft and kissable (where the fuck did that thought come from?). She smiled a little when she looked at Cassandra, and he noticed she had some of the whitest teeth he’d ever seen, bright and straight. A full set, too. Even he was missing one after a brawl a few years ago.

And that body! Andraste’s ass, he hadn’t seen a body like that on a human female outside of brothels. He’d bet that before she’d been forced to essentially starve she’d been voluptuous , but even now she was a good handful. Peasants never had this much meat on their bones, so that was his first hint that she was not like the rest. She was short, boasting only an inch or two above him, but he thought that maybe added to the appeal.

Those tits looked like they were trying their best to burst out of that ill-fitting dress, and the backside wasn’t faring much better. And the way that her waist curved in before flaring out into hips made for a man to grab onto.

Shit.

He glanced down at his pants, grateful that between the darkness of night and the constriction of the leather, his growing problem shouldn’t be too obvious. He shook his head and went back to studying her.

Her most damning feature, however, was her hands. You could tell a lot about a person by their hands. His were callused and scarred, with ink permanently staining his nails. The average human peasant’s hands were even worse, usually the color of leather from their life working outdoors and short jagged nails were practical.

Hers were so tiny he could easily fit them both in one of his hands and have room to spare. He could tell how soft they were even from here. Pink and not a spot in sight, with nails that were long and rounded, with flecks of pink on them like they’d once been painted (something he’d only seen done in Orlais).

A lady. And despite her small stature, definitely a human. Why was she here?

He crept through the crowd, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible until he made his way to her side.

“It’s always us short ones that get stuck in the back, huh?”

He patted himself on the back mentally for such a smooth intro. She turned to him and he was struck by the emotion in her eyes. She was excited to see him ? She could be a fan, he supposed, but not many actually knew his face.

Up close, she was even more intriguing. He stood close enough for her breath to touch his cheek, and was amazed to smell clove and peppermint. Third hint that she wasn’t from around here, as human peasants always smelled like mead and rotting teeth.

He let his gaze travel over her, mostly to gauge her reaction and slightly because he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the massive mounds of flesh trying to burst from her borrowed dress. She blushed sweetly, making him feel like a lecher for a moment, but she didn’t seem to mind him looking.

Interesting.

Just as he was about to lay it on thick, Maxwell found them and drew her into a conversation. It turned out that his hunch was right and she wasn’t from around here. In fact, she was the one they’d been told about. The other “Fade Walker.” She didn’t seem to be touched by the experience like Maxwell had been, but the fall from the rift had been what injured her.

Her voice when she talked to Maxwell was quiet and shy like she wasn’t sure they wanted to hear what she had to say. Her body language was like she was primed for flight the moment one of them made a wrong step, even as she practically begged for their help. In fact, she reminded him of the injured dove that Fenris had rescued once. Dog had injured the bird’s wing and Fenris had taken it in and patched it up. It had been a timid little thing, jumping over every sound. But it was sweet and would trill and coo whenever Fenris spoke to it.

Varric frowned as he listened to them talk and stood at her side as Solas healed her fractured wrist, feeling a strange sort of protectiveness well up inside him. The feeling itself wasn’t unfamiliar - he was protective of his friends, of his dumbass brother, of Bia - her . But he barely knew this woman.

Maybe it was just that she seemed so...vulnerable. So soft. Every emotion played out on her face like she just wore her heart out for everyone to see. Anyone with decent skill in observation could tell this was the sort of woman that you protect from the world. That you keep safe behind walls filled with love and laughter, flowers in her hair and children at her feet.

It had been a long time since Varric had ever seen such a woman. Had he ever?

Even with the reveal of her “knowledge,” he could tell that she’d only held the rest back out of fear. Either that or she was literally the best spy in all of Thedas.

When they’d finally left that evening, he’d thrown her the sending crystal on a whim. He’d been holding onto that to give to Maxwell, and they were not cheap or easy to come by. However, he’d noticed her anxious gaze following him as they walked away and had again felt that urge to protect. Anything could happen and they’d be gone for an entire week. He sincerely doubted she knew how to even hold a knife, let alone protect herself with one.

The nightly storytelling was to reassure himself as well as her. He was sure letting Crystal hear them talk would ease any worries she might have about traveling with strangers. And when she silently answered and let him talk, he knew it was still in her possession and everything seemed fine. If something happened, he hoped that she’d be able to figure out how to use it and alert him. He’d have the apostate elf figure some way to get back quickly since he had the look of someone who knew more than he let on.

****

A week flew by and their party was growing increasingly hopeful about Crystal’s “usefulness” to the inquisition. Varric had to grit his teeth and clench his fist to keep from hitting Solas every time he used that word in conjunction with her. “Useful.” Like she was an item instead of one those that they were meant to protect.

Her notes that she’d shared had been really good, however. They’d managed to close down the rebel camps and clear the roads, took down a creepy green demon thing, and gotten a decent amount of horses to tide them over until they completed Master Dennett’s tasks.

Maxwell had declared the night before that they would take Crystal with them when they left for Haven. Varric knew that once they got there he’d have to watch out for the Nightingale, but at least he felt better about leaving her in a place surrounded by people he semi-trusted while he fought the good fight. Why he felt like that was his responsibility to worry about, he still hadn’t quite figured out.

It had become a little clearer, however, when they’d finally reached the Crossroads again and there’d she’d been like a ray of sunshine waiting for him. Maybe this protectiveness over her was 85% his cock’s fault, he thought, his pants tightening as she neared.

She looked a lot healthier since their last visit, obviously having made good use of the rations they’d left. Her eyes were bright and full of genuine happiness, smiling up at him. She’d let her hair free today, and it fell in luscious waves to her waist. Her clothes were once again borrowed and ill-fitting, but obviously the nicest she had. If it was possible, it seemed even tighter than the last dress, her modesty being miraculously saved by a worn strip of leather around the bodice.

It was strange how he felt like he could breathe properly now that she was in his sight. Had he been that stressed before? What was it about this damned woman? There hadn’t been anyone that had stirred him this much since...her .

And she was so easy to talk to. She spoke mostly only after someone else had spoken first, but she took his flirting in stride and offered witty responses. But every reaction to his touch and heated gaze seemed genuine and refreshingly honest. No practiced teasing he was used to.

And much later that evening was when he realized he was in trouble.

With a capital fucking T.

Because he’d been teasing her with the shirtlessness and letting his hair down, he’d admit it. If he was going to share a room with her for the night he wanted to play a little. Her reaction to him was flattering. So no one could blame her if she’d been trying to tease him back.

And that had been his first instinct when he’d turned to face her standing in front of the fire. That she’d finally shown her true colors and was asking for it. Begging for it. He’d been one step away from throwing her onto the bed and making her scream.

Until he’d looked at her face and seen the genuine innocent embarrassment of a lady. It had taken everything in him to calm down and let her run past him towards the bed. The damage had already been done to his mind, though, as everything the chemise had revealed to him was imprinted there like a tattoo. The dusky rose nipples firmed by cold, every inch of unblemished skin begging for his mouth, the strange nakedness of her mound.

He was sure if he played his cards right he could have her. Say a few things that women like to hear, promise a bauble or two, and she would let him fuck her. He wasn’t a saint and he’d done it before.

But there was something about the way she looked at him with such...admiration. Maybe even a little wonder and, yes, even a little attraction. He’s seen it all before, of course. He’s Varric Tethras - famous author, the right hand of the Champion, and heavy player in the underworld. Having people offer themselves for a night was a regular occurrence, and he was silver-tongued enough to get anyone else he might want.

With her, he just couldn’t do that. Couldn’t watch the trust and admiration fade from her eyes. She probably wasn’t as “innocent” as she seemed, but she certainly wasn’t one of his usual types of paramours. She was the type you kept, the kind that could wrap themselves around your heart so tight you couldn’t exist without them. He’d been there before and didn’t think he could survive that again.

****

Varric couldn’t seem to stop his gaze from straying to the newest member of their crew as he spun a (only slightly embellished) tale to entertain them for the evening. He was used to his audiences gasping in shock or staring raptly with excitement. Instead, she was watching him with a smirk that tilted her pretty lips, like she knew he was full of crap and was letting him spew it all anyway. But even more captivating was the look in her eyes - warm and fond, dangerously so. Like all he had to do was say the right words for her to tumble into his arms.

It was a look that he was growing increasingly familiar with over the past few days as they traveled back to Haven. And the idea of talking her into his bed was also becoming a regular thing. No matter how many times he told himself no, how often he argued with his own damn self explaining all the perfectly sensible reasons he shouldn’t, it still floated around in there.

Three days of taking up the rear of the party so she and her giant nug would be protected in the middle were beginning to take its toll. Because back there he had a perfect view of her.

He could see when she was amazed and cooing over some new sight. When she giggled because her stupid nug stopped in the middle of a trail to eat a flower. When she and Maxwell would chat about art, something she seemed educated on. When she tried so hard to fight off her exhaustion, yawning and stretching her arms until he thought her shirt would finally pop open.

And that damned shirt. It was his , and she had no right to look so appealing in it. She hadn’t had enough clothing with her so he’d tossed some spares to her and he’s regretted it ever since. The pants stretched over her legs like a second skin, cupping her ass and luscious thighs. The shirt was made with a purposely low v on the front since that’s how he liked them. On her, it was damn near scandalous. Her cleavage was out there for everyone to see. She looked incredible . And he was suffering .

“I said what do you think, Varric ?”

The louder than necessary yell near his ear jolted him from his thoughts. He turned towards Cassandra, the annoyance on her face comfortingly familiar.

“Pardon, Seeker. I got lost in the story. Did you need something?”

“You finished the story at least ten minutes ago. We were now discussing arming Crystal,” Cassandra scoffed, her disgust with Varric’s apparent lack of awareness evident.

“Arming? What for?” He tried for nonchalance, the thought of sending her into battle raising his hackles.

“Protection, dwarf. I only have so many eyes and if we get ambushed there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to protect her completely. She says she’s never handled a weapon before. What should we start her with? A dagger, perhaps?” Cassandra stares at Crystal in thought.

The woman in question scrunches her nose. “I suppose so. It’s small enough that I could handle it, I guess. But actually stabbing someone?” she shivers.

“A dagger is handy to have on hand, of course. I’d prefer you to be farther away from any combat, though. Take up the rear with me,” he suggests. He'd rather her be somewhere he could keep an eye on her, and right at his side seemed like the best idea.

“Like a bow and arrow? I know for a fact I can’t pick up that monster of a crossbow.”

Varric chuckles, suddenly warming up to the topic. He didn’t want her fighting, true, but it would be good for her to be prepared.

“I have a regular bow I’ve been holding onto. I was going to see if someone back in Haven wanted it since it’s decent. Hold on.”

He grunts and stands up, walking over to his pony to rifle around the packs. He pulls out a medium-sized bundle in leather, unwrapping it as he walks back to her. He pulls out a bow and hands it to her to look at.

“Its a Dalish hunting bow. I think it was made for a kid. Compact enough for you, though. Woods sturdy. I restrung it myself. And I think the carvings are just birds, nothing religious,” Varric explains, hovering by her shoulder as she looks it over.

“You’ll teach me?” she asks softly, the beginnings of a smile tilting her lips.

“Anything you want, little dove.”

The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, his eyes meeting her’s as they wore matching shocked expressions.

She stared at him and he felt not for the first time that she could see every inch of his tarred soul...and somehow still felt like smiling at him?

Her grin was tiny and shy, but it was there, making him puff out his chest like a fool for pleasing her.

“You’re the best,” she said softly then turned back to coo more at her new bow.

He wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t the best. He wasn’t even good.

But she made him want to try.

****

Some questions you probably have now:

1. Why do you keep writing Giles like he's from Scotland? - I dunno either, bruh. He writes himself and he decided he liked the word lassie. But notice that he can sometimes string a whole sentance together perfectly normal. It's like that on purpose. He's hiding something, I'm sure of it. Who stands in the middle of the road all day long and just watches people. Suspicious.

2. Why is Varric always talking about tits and ass - he's a dude. 97% of their thought process comes from their dick. Real science numbers. Totally didn't make that up.

3. It doesn't make sense. How can he like her this much already? - You're seeing into Varric's confused brain right now. He doesn't know what's going on either. Sometimes it be like that.

4. I thought you weren't going to make Crystal some bad ass warrior chick? - I'm not. But it's also unrealistic to not be able to arm yourself somewhat in such a wild land. Varric's watching out, don't worry.

5. Why does he keep calling Bianca "Her"? - I think there's a lot of stuff that's going on in Varric's giant noggin. For him, the bow is a safe way to say the name. Keep her in his thoughts without really thinking of her. But thinking of her name when it applies to her the person makes him think of...well, her. Does that make sense? It's a mental health protection thing, because minds are curious and we all have strange quirks up there. Separating the two in his mind helps keep him sane.

ANYWAY, I hope you all enjoyed! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE comment! Even just a couple words. I need to know how I'm doing so I can improve future chapters. I can't wait to delve more into these two.

[caterinawriting]

The Cost of a Legacy (5)

Summary : He sees her and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, everything perfect. Well except the fact that they’re growing up during the revolutionary war. Their love will hit many hurdles and what the future has in store may not be what they planned.

Pairing : John Laurens x Reader

Words : 2,102

July 1772

Dearest John,

I’m so sad to hear you won’t be coming to see me, but of course, I understand. It’s a very long distance from Charleston to Switzerland, the voyage is exhausting. Trust me. I miss you, my love, please next letter don’t be so vague. I wanna hear about work and your studies, on how your mother is or how your siblings are. I won’t lie John your letter upset me, I can tell you wrote it in a rush, your penmanship is usually much neater. I understand some times you might not have time to paint me your whole day, but I long to hear your thoughts. Daddy hasn’t written in a while, unfortunately. Anna, my helper tells me to stay positive but I fear he’s in trouble. He’s never been this distant with me, I don’t know I guess I’m feeling farther away from him every day. I miss you John, please write back soon. 

Yours truly,

(Y/n) Fiore Gavalanch

August 1772

Dearest John, Are you well my love? It’s odd of you not to write me back. I’m worried sick John, after what you said in your letter about your mother, I fear the worst. I don’t want to assume something like that so please John explain to me what’s happening. Its times like this where I wish I was still in Manhattan, it’s still far from you but I’d take the ride to you right now if I could. I miss home, I miss you, John Laurens, I miss daddy, I miss Angelica and her sisters. John, I know its selfish but your letters make me feel normal like I’m still there with all of you. Please, John, write to me.

Yours truly, (Y/n) Fiore Gavalanch

August 1772

Dearest John, I’m just sending this incase my other letters you didn’t arrive. Maybe our lack of communication is just on hold for now. If that’s the case disregard my tone, I’m worried that is all. Be well, John.

Yours Truly (Y/n) Fiore Gavalanch.

September 1772

Dear John,

Its fall already, every one of my friends says they can’t believe I’ve been to Switzerland a year, how fast the times go. Not for me every night I pray to God that he puts me back in New York and every day I wake disappointed. The days only seem to drag, the same routine every day. Daddy hasn’t written to me but he has written Anna, she says the letter is private but that he wishes I be well. I don’t understand why he couldn’t have written that to me. My days are clouded with confusion now. You have yet to write to me and I might know why I wrote my dear friend Angelica and she says she saw you in Manhattan the other day. So great, at least I know your alive and kicking. Angelica writes that I should be angry at you, for obvious reasons, but she has another claim. She states when she saw you, you were accompanied by a woman. She says she wasnt near the age of any of your sisters, I want a clear response. If your even willing to give me one. I want you to write to me and explain what’s happening, are we done? If you no longer want me John tell me. I’m sick of feeling so helpless. I’ve tried to defend you, maybe something came up with your mother, maybe your busy with studies or your father’s company. But if you’re able to lounge around New York then you’re able to send me a letter with a quick response. Please, Im driving myself mad. My mother, my father, now you? It’s too much abandonment John, so for my birthday this month please write me something, anything. I’ve never asked for anything on my birthday, so grant me this John. An answer, I can forgive you, John, If you still want to continue this.  

Truly

(Y/n) Fiore Gavalanch

October 1772

“James, wheres John?” Henry had been searching for his older brother all morning, since their mother passed John hadn’t been the same. He avoided his father and siblings opting to only spend time with Martha. Matha had been staying with them since the funeral, her father still in London funding her visit. He knew John was basically using Martha as a way of coping but it wasn’t right, at least is Henry’s mind it wasnt. Especially when John knew that Martha would do anything for him, and he’d do nothing for her.

“He and Martha went out for an early horse ride, again. And he didn’t say goodbye, again.” He frowned putting his book down, “When is John going to be normal again? It’s like I see him and he’s there, but I feel like he’s gone with Momma.” Henry sighed patting his brother, “Don’t worry little man, I’ll bring John back.” He made his way out, sitting on their porch waiting for the couple to return. He grabbed the mail in the meanwhile.

There it was as he suspected, a letter from (Y/n) Fiore Gavalanch. He knew John was really messed up when he stopped writing (Y/n) back, she had written him many times, probably confused why her John was avoiding her. His brother hadn’t sent anything to Switzerland since July. Even though Henry didn’t like her much he did sympathize with her.

He knew his brother hadn’t forgotten about her too because every time he presented him with a new letter John would take the letter to his room and stay locked in all night. One night Henry passed his room and heard sobs from his brother, from her letters he assumed.

He sat there waiting till he saw his brother riding back into their barn. Henry made his way over letters in hand, “Good morning Henry! Sorry we left before any of you were awake, John wanted an early start. Right darling?” Martha dismounted her horse gracefully turning to John who simply nodded. “No worries Martha, I have a letter from your father if you liked to read it.” She squealed, “Yes thank you, Henry! John, I’ll be in my quarters if you need me.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek handing him the reins of her horse, strolling away.

“What do you have there?” John asked still not looking at his brother, as he put his horses back. “Oh, you know the usual, a letter from that poor girl your torturing in Switzerland.” He handed the letter to him, John tucking it into his vest. “When are you going to write this girl back? She’s probably worried sick about you, John it’s cruel.”

“I will soon, I just don’t know what to say to her.” Henry sighed “How about, hey (Y/n) remember how I said Id court you and write you because I cared for you so much? Well, guess what I’m courting someone new and don’t care for you anymore.”

“I do care about her and I’m not courting Martha, were friends that’s it.” Henry scoffed, “Well ‘darling’ Martha thinks she’s getting courted and (Y/n) is probably being courted by some Swedish guy who actually gives her the time of day.” He walked away, annoyed with his brother’s behavior.

(Y/n) wouldn’t do that to him, right? But Henry had a point he was basically doing that to her but with Martha. He hadnt meant for things to go this far with Martha, sure he hadnt kissed her but keeping her here for this long was definitely giving her the wrong message. He made his way out of the barn and up to his room, making sure to lock it.

Once in his room be pulled out a box under his bed, they’re wrapped in (Y/n)’s ribbon were all her letter. He sat as his desk and pulled out the new one, beginning to read it.

End of September 1772

Dear John Laurens,

I am now 15, you are about to be 18. Happy birthday John. If you were curious to know I spent my birthday with Anna alone. I hoped you’d bless me with a letter but no surprise you’ve disappointed me again. I wanted to take the time to tell you our courtship is over, though for you it might have been over long ago. I will cherish our childhood memories well, and when I’m old I’ll think back and smile. For now, I’ll force a smile until someone comes around and changes that. Thank you, John, for everything, you truly changed my life. It goes without saying that this will be my last letter to you. I hope you have a prosperous career and hey maybe that dream you had about your all-black regiment will come true. Never give that up John, you’re destined for greatness, I know it. I don’t want this part to sound bitter but find a good wife John, someone whose smile lights up your world. Have those 7 kids you want, which I still think is a crazy number. I wish you the best John, I’m sending your necklace with this letter. I assume you’d want it back, and I can’t keep it if I’m not yours anymore. The next girl will adore it, John. Best of luck to you, old friend.

Sincerely (Y/n) Fiore Gavalanch

He sighed wiping the tears forming in his eyes, he should have seen this coming. He took the envelope and pulled out her necklace, his hands shook as he placed the necklace in her box. He understood leaving (Y/n) in the dark for so long was wrong, but he wanted to see if he could make his mother happy. He tried to love Martha, god that was all he was doing for the past 4 months, putting all his time and energy into getting himself to like her. It wasnt fair to either of them, he knew that with (Y/n) if had written her back he knew he wouldn’t have been able to focus on Martha. Martha was everything his mother wanted for him and he was trying to please his mother. The pain he was experiencing now from losing (Y/n) was it worth it? He abandon a girl who knows the feeling too well.

She couldn’t control her mother dying so she grew up with no female guidance. Her father did what he thought was right and left her alone in a foreign country at such a young age. And now he who promised to wait for her and court her dropped off the face of her world.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts, he wiped his tears and placed the box under his bed. He opened the door to see a sad Martha, “John my father wants me back in London, he states it super important.  I’m sorry to leave you now, I can see you’re still hurting from your mother’s passing.” She pointed out the tear stains on his face. He nodded, grateful she was leaving.

He needed time to think about him, he obviously wasnt getting anywhere with Martha. Apparently forcing yourself to like someone doesn't work. “Its alright Martha, safe travels.”

“Well, I’ll come back as soon as I can John. I don’t want to leave you for too long especially considering our situation. Hopefully, I’ll see you soon, Johnny.” She once again kissed his cheek and then left to pack her things. Gosh, he definitely needed to clear things up, at least she was leaving though, breaking the news through a letter seemed better than doing it in person.

---

“Boys! John, Henry, James! Come down here.”

“What is it, father?” Henry asked when they were all in front of their father. “Boys were going to be rich! The business is soaring boys!” They clapped, “Congrdualtions father.” John said.

“Well boys with the business going so good, we’ve got to dedicate ourselves to it. So we’re moving to London! Mr. Mannings has got a house all set for us, so you guys will learn and study there. The girls will, unfortunately, have to stay here with your aunt. But us Laurens Men are going to thrive in London, what do you say boys?” Henry and James celebrated with their father, eager to get to London.

London, way to close to Martha, far from the colonies, where the action was happening. Hed leave his sisters and best friend behind but he'd be closer to (Y/n). Maybe he could make his way to Switzerland one weekend and apologize to her. Yes, that’s what he do, go get his girl back.

...

Not edited, enjoy

[lady-divine-writes]

Saturday with the Boys (Rated T)

(Because I needed some general hijinks with Crowley, Adam, and Warlock. XD Inspired by this post.)

“How much do you want for this here picture frame, ma’am?”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, dear. It should be marked.” Wilma pulls her reading glasses down from her white crown and examines the ceramic frame. She actually knows how much she’s asking for it. It says clearly on the front – five pounds. But this man more than likely wants to haggle. So she procrastinates parting with that information, slowly fixing her glasses on the bridge of her nose for show. She’s had 20/20 vision since childhood, and at seventy-seven, that hasn’t changed a whit. But she milks this moment, making herself seem more infirm than she honestly is in the hopes of getting a few pity pounds out of this poor schlub who happened upon her yard sale on this fine Saturday morning.

To be honest, she bought this God awful picture frame on her disaster of a third honeymoon. The whole marriage was ripe for the rubbish heap about four months in and yet she stayed with her darling Henry till the man died of sepsis a year ago – a week before his life insurance policy matured.

This frame is all she has left to remember him by.

Well, this frame, a house, a vacation property in Belize, and a ten million pound inheritance.

If no one buys the stupid thing, she’s going to toss it into the air and shoot it with an air rifle.

“I’m … I’m having a bit of trouble reading this, love,” she says in an appropriately quavering voice, pointing to the tag in the corner. “Does this say five pounds? Or fifteen? It’s been such a long morning out here in the sun. I can’t seem to tell …”

“How about I give you twenty and we call it a day?” the man holding the frame, a soon-to-be-present for his new wife, offers with a smile.

“Oh!” Wilma feigns astonishment while inside her head she pats herself on the back for playing him for a sucker. God, she should have been an actress! She squandered so much of her long life as a common housewife. “That’s so gracious of you! Thank you, my dear!”

“You’re more than wel—“

The end of his sentence gets severed by a vintage car screeching up to the curb and stopping with a jerk. The doors fly open and three people race out – a tall, lanky man with flaming red hair and sunglasses, dressed all in black like an undertaker, accompanied by two young boys around twelve – one with straight black hair, the other a curly dirty blonde. The curly-haired boy hugs a black-and-white terrier to his chest, whispering to it as all three plus dog race over to Wilma, sitting bewildered at her card table beneath a large oak tree.

And they look in a panic.

“Excuse … excuse me,” the curly-haired boy begins, “but we need to see any cursed amulets you may have for sale!”

“Wh—what?” Wilma asks, eyeing the three suspiciously, the dog especially. “What are you going on about?”

“Please!” the dark-haired boy begs. “It’s a matter of life or death!”

The dog barks. The curly-haired boy hugs him.

“It’s all right, Kevin,” he coos. “We’ll get this curse reversed. I promise you.”

“Is this some kind of a joke?” the man buying the frame asks incredulously.

“I can assure you it isn’t,” the tall man says seriously. “We’ve had a bit of a run in with … with … well, uh …” He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably, looking down and to the side, hard to tell through the dark lenses of his glasses.

“Well, spit it out, mate!” the man says. “A run in with a what?”

“A … a …”

A demon,” the dark-haired boy finishes, a peculiar twist to the corner of his mouth that makes the man with the frame suspect he might be lying.

“Right,” he says, moving in front of Wilma to guard her from these three hooligans trying to pull a horrible prank on this poor old woman.

The dog whines, sounding for all intents and purposes desperate, and the curly-haired boy sighs. “I know it sounds unbelievable, but we’re telling the truth!”

“It won’t be Halloween for ages, young man, so I suggest the three of you climb back in the car you rode in on and get out of here before I phone the authorities!”

“Don’t do that!” the black-haired boy cries. “We’re not trying to cause trouble! Honest!”

“No! No, do!” the tall man says as if the man with the frame just came up with the best solution ever. “Maybe they can help! Do you happen to have the phone number of a local priest perhaps? Maybe a shaman?”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” frame man scolds, turning on him with venom in his voice. “Encouraging these boys to participate in this reprehensible behavior!”

“Reprehensible!?” the man in the glasses scoffs. “Right! And what do you expect me to tell Kevin’s mum when we bring home a dog instead of her little boy? Hmm? Sorry, ma’am! We could have helped him out, but we didn’t want to disturb the neighbors! They have a right to sell their tacky goods in peace, your son be damned!”

“Are you mad!?”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be pleased that the wretched animal appears to be potty trained at least. And uni? No need for that! Think of all the money she’ll save!”

“Look, young man,” Wilma interrupts finally, having tried this entire time to figure out if there was anything on her table that she could pass off as a cursed amulet. Unfortunately, the only thing that might have sufficed walked away for seven pounds over an hour ago. The man in front of them, going on about demons and dogs like a nutter, might be insane, but if she’s right, that watch he’s wearing is worth a pretty penny. And driving an antique Bentley in mint condition? He could at least afford a hundred pounds or more for some useless bauble. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but could you please move along? You’re scaring away paying …”

The dog in the boy’s arms growls, long and low, a menacing curdle that stops all conversation dead, everyone within a hundred feet suddenly fearing for their lives.

“Uh … Kevin?” the boy says while everyone but the tall man takes a step back, eyes glued to the animal as if expecting him to explode. And he does in a sense, letting loose with the loudest, angriest bark ever to come from an animal, his mouth opening wide, unhinged, revealing seven rows of razor sharp teeth.

And for a split second, his eyes glow red.

“Saints preserve us!” Wilma mutters, crossing herself with a shaking hand and standing so quickly, her chair topples backwards.

“It’s getting worse!” The boy carrying the terrier looks to the man in the dark glasses for help.

“I was afraid of this,” he says. “Get him back to the car, boys! I don’t think an amulet can save us now! Best to get him away from these God fearin’ people before … you know.”

“Before … before what?” Wilma calls after them, too terrified to follow for an answer.

“You don’t want to know,” the boy with the straight black hair says.

“I recommend you all go inside, find your crosses and your Bibles and start to pray,” the man in the glasses says, holding the door to his car open for the boys and the dog. “I feel … judgement day a’comin’.” He looks skyward, examining the clouds, frowning at something that only he sees. The man clutching the frame and Wilma look up, too, trying to see it, but all they see are clouds. Nothing more threatening than that.

But Wilma in particular, as devout a Christian as her Christmas and Easter attendance can attest, isn’t about to admit that.

“Oh dear Lord! Everyone! Get inside! Quickly!” Crowley hears as he climbs into his Bentley and peels away, trying to restrain his laughter until they’re completely out of earshot. Once they turn the corner and tear up the following block, Warlock and Adam crow.

“Did you see the looks on their faces?” Warlock snickers, putting out a fist for Crowley to bump.

“I know!” Adam giggles, wrapping his arms around Dog’s neck. “That was even better than the last one!”

“How’s about we call it a day and go get some ice cream?” Crowley suggests. “I think that guy with the frame might actually call the police.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Adam says. “I think Dog’s had enough. Or should I say Kevin.”

“Oh, all right,” Warlock agrees, even though he was really hoping they’d hit one more yard sale before the day was up. But ice cream is cool, too. Less of a chance of getting him dragged back to mom and dad by the police.

Of course, that’s never been too big an issue since Nanny is always there to bail him out.

“And remember, darlings,” Crowley says, merging on to the M40, “what’s the most important thing to keep in mind about today’s little adventure?”

“Don’t tell Aziraphale,” both boys say in unison.

Crowley peeks into his rearview, beaming at the two boys with pride. “Brilliant.”

[dobrikburrito]

without you, t.s.

words: 2.6k

plot: you and Todd moved on from each other into new relationships - but it still hurts whenever you see him again.

disclaimer: angsty soft smut - tw: cheating (honorable participation of one jeff wittek)

⠀

You

My eyes were closed as I listened to the beat of his heart. My fingertips tracing little figurines on the skin of his chest. His arm tightly around me, his breathing soft and calm. The warmth of him enough to light my body on fire. Our legs tangled, the messy sheets. There was nowhere in the world I’d rather be right now.

“(Y/N)...” His voice was hoarse, but a whisper. I looked up at him. “I love you.”

I couldn’t hide the smile on my face, it was the first time he had ever said that to me. My heart was exploding inside my chest. I sat up a little, adjusting myself to look better at him, touching his face.

“I love you too, Todd.” I looked at his lips and gave him a soft and slow kiss.

After a moment, he held my face on his hand. “I can’t see my life without you. I want to grow old with you, have little (Y/N)s running around the house, a dog, a huge backyard, white fence, everything. I want us to be one of those 80 years old couples sitting on a park just enjoying each other’s presence.”

Breathless. Speechless. I was always surprised of how sensitive and deep he was. I bit my lip, holding the tears back. I could see that perfect life. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The alarm clock rings. 6 am.

I open my eyes, look around. I’m not at home. I see Nerf sleeping unbothered in his bed by the door. I feel arms around my body, I look back and I see him.

Lazily, he opens his eyes and yawns, smiling at me when he sees I’m awake. His brown eyes barely able to stay open.

“Hey beautiful,” Jeff said, pulling me closer to his body, kissing my forehead. “Good morning.”

I turn my body completely to be able to snuggle into him. “Morning.”

His hand was on my hair, caressing it. “Feel like going on a hike with me today?” I just groaned and made him laugh of my laziness. “Fine, you and Nerf deserve each other.”

I chuckled as I watched him getting out of bed and walking towards the bathroom. The minute the door closed, I took one deep breath. The dream still recent in my mind, another night dreaming of Todd. I hated this, I hated how I couldn’t control it either. Every now and then he would come back in my dreams, half of it a memory, half of it a wish. It was always so realistic that every time I woke up, my heart would break all over again.

And it wasn’t fair to Jeff either.

Todd

I couldn’t sleep. This was annoying the fuck out of me. It’d make me tired all day, moody. I knew myself. I needed a good night of sleep. The late nights and partying on tour with Olivia were getting to me. Or maybe it was something else clouding my mind.

Every time I promise myself I won’t do it again. And yet, here I am, opening instagram, checking Jeff’s page, seeing the new photo with her. They had just come out as a couple and people were freaking out. The comments made me jealous, angry. I knew I had no business feeling anything about the situation. We don’t mean anything to each other anymore. It’s all history now. And I did give it my blessing.

“Hey man,” Jeff said, fidgeting on the stool at the healthy bar we had our shots after every hike now.

“Are you on your period? What’s up? You’re acting weird,” I joke, not for a minute suspecting anything.

“You can punch me if you want, I really don’t mind. I just wanted to talk to you about something,” Jeff took a deep breath, I wasn’t liking where this was going. “I need to be honest with you. Lately I’ve been getting closer to (Y/N). I really like her, man. And I think she might like me a little too.”

When I said nothing, he continued.

“And I know she’s your ex-girlfriend and I know that ended badly, but you’re my friend and I have to be honest with you. If you think this is weird and would rather I stay the fuck away from her, just say the word. I’ll back off right away.” Jeff asked me and any anger I would automatically have on the subject was soothed by his loyalty.

Jeff was a good guy. I had a girlfriend.

“Look, man.” I took a deep breath. “(Y/N) is great. She’s a great girl. It didn’t work out for us, unfortunately, but I care for her. You’re a good guy, I say go for it.”

Jeff exhaled deeply. “Are you sure? Just know you don’t need to say that to make me happy or anything. I don’t wanna fuck up our friendship.”

“I’m sure. It’s fine. I moved on. I’m happy.” I shrugged. “I rather she’s hanging with someone like you than one of those youtube fuckboys.”

“Thanks man, it means a lot to me.” Jeff patted me in my arm and we cheered with our healthy shots.

I did it to myself. The fights, the break up, the blessing. I didn’t have any right to be mad or bothered. But I was, and it was hurting more than I wanted to admit.

In one of the pictures, she was smiling widely, hopping on his back. Both of them looked as happy as can be. The next picture, Jeff was kissing the tip of her nose. Last I remember, I was the only one who could make her smile like that.

I slap myself in the face. Fuck off Todd. What the fuck is wrong with you?

I’m happy. I have an amazing girlfriend, who makes me better. No fights, no struggle. Everything is easy as it’s supposed to be. (Y/N) and I ended for a reason. I’m happy now.

You

No parties tonight, no clubs or bars. We all met at Heath’s house to drink, talk, laugh. I smiled to myself, listening to the burst of laughter coming from the living room. I grabbed two bottles of beer, one for me, one for Jeff, and made my way back. Heath had everyone completely hooked to one of his crazy stories. I reached the couch, filled with my friends, and naturally sat down on Jeff’s lap, giving him his bottle and earning a quick kiss and a thank you. His arm immediately hugged my waist and I crossed my legs.

I heard him before I saw him. The voice and laughter I could hear from a mile away. My thoughts were confirmed when Zane screamed his lungs out.

“Todd!! You made it baby!!” Zane was drunk, yet with the biggest smile on his face.

I’m not gonna lie, I did low key ask Heath if Todd was coming, which he denied, since Todd apparently was still on the road with his new girlfriend.

My body stiffed when I saw him coming around to the living room, saying hi to everyone and sitting down on a stool. The fact that Todd’s life and new girlfriend was the topic for the next ten minutes made me uneasy, which I tried my best to hide. I had only given him a quick glance. He looks good. I sighed. I haven’t seen him in three weeks. Not counting the dreams.

After drinking his beer, Jeff’s hand found my thigh, moving my attention from my friends back to him.

“I really like that skirt, you know.” He kissed my cheek, I smiled.

“Yeah?” I looked down to my yellow and black plaid skirt. My eyes were back on him, noticing a few strands of his hair all messy. I quickly let my fingers fix and caress it. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I was thinking... “ Jeff started, his hands running through my thigh, a smirk on his lips. “Maybe cut the night short? Have a little private fun back at my place?”

“Oh?” I joked, raising my eyebrows. “Huh. And why would I do that?”

“Oh, well. I can give you a few reasons.” Jeff gave me a kiss on the neck and I closed my eyes for a split second.

“Good argument, Wittek.” I smiled and nodded. “Okay, let’s just stay a few more minutes and we’ll go.”

“Great.” His hand pressed my thigh.

Somehow, I did want to leave as soon as possible without being rude. The reason? I could feel the burn in my skin from Todd’s gaze.

Todd

“So, why didn’t Olivia come along?” Mariah asked Todd, giving him a beer bottle.

“We just got back, she was feeling kinda sick, thought was better to just stay in and rest.” I explained, my eyes darting every now and then to the couple in the couch in front of me. My blood was starting to boil and I had to keep my shit together not to make a scene.

Coming here was not a good idea.

Seeing the pictures and instagram stories were one thing. Seeing it live? Was eating me up. Yet, why was I jealous? I hated myself for being so immature that I couldn’t fully move on from someone that I haven’t dated in four months.

When I saw him kissing her neck, I tightened my fist, deciding to go back to the kitchen to clear my head and not have a front row seat to that performance. I knew I had no business feeling anything, but it was so disrespectful from them to pull a show knowing I was right there. I would’ve never done that to (Y/N). I thought she respected our history together enough to consider my feelings.

I swallowed two more beer bottles all by myself in the kitchen, over hearing the stories being told in the living room. I was about to grab a third, when I heard steps coming in. The moment I saw her, my body froze. Took her a minute to figure out I was there, but when she did, her expression was dead. Funny.

“Oh hi, Todd.” Her voice was soothing. She looked back to the living room. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Wouldn’t have come if you did?” I asked, ironically, taking a last sip of my beer.

“That’s not what I mean.” There was a kind of sorrow in her eyes. I couldn’t stop myself.

“And do you mean to show off your new boyfriend to my face?” I looked straight into her eyes. “I knew it was a bad idea coming here.”

“I… I didn’t…” Her voice was confused and hurt. “I’m sorry, Todd. I didn’t mean to show off anything. It wasn’t aimed at you.”

“A little respect would be nice. But yeah, okay, whatever.” I shrugged, looking away.

I knew how to press the right buttons to make her snap at me. I was good at that.

“Why do you care anyway? You have a perfect relationship with a pop singer.” I hated the ironic tone in her voice.

“So? I wouldn’t do any PDA with her with you around. Out-of-respect.” I pointed out, (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Oh please, stop with the righteousness. You’ve done worse. Or may I remember you when we were on a break and two hours in you fucked another girl?” She went there, she brought up all the shit again.

I sighed hard. “(Y/N), we’re broken up, we don’t have to keep arguing anymore, it’s done, move on.” I knew how to hurt her with my words.

The frown on her face, the hurt. I instantly hated myself for saying everything.

“Fuck you, Todd.” I got her to snap. I always did.

She was about to turn around to leave and I held her arm, stopping her.

“(Y/N), wait.”

You

I looked back at him, holding back my tears. If it wasn’t enough to see him again, now this. I thought I was done having my heart broken. And yet, it still skipped a beat every time I looked at him.

“Do you love him?” Todd asked me. There was something in his eyes. Hope. Regret. Doubt. Eager. I knew that look.

“Todd, you don’t get to ask me that.” I tried to say it with more confidence than I felt.

“It kills me, seeing you with him.” Todd slowly let go of my arm, but I didn’t go anywhere, not really believing the words coming out of his mouth. “I thought I would be okay, I moved on, but I can’t… I hate seeing you with anyone else.”

“You seem pretty happy with your girlfriend.” I pointed out.

“I am.” Ouch, I swallowed dry. “But I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

Me too. I dream about you every night. I miss your smile, the way you look at me, the way you touch me and the way you made me feel like I was the only girl in the world.

“I’m happy, Todd.” I told him, seeing the feeling of shame run through his face.

I wish everything was different, I wish we made it work. I wish it was easy.

His hands were on his face. “Wow, I’m really a fuck up.”

“Todd, you’re not a fuck up.” I took one step closer to him.

He looked up to the ceiling. “I keep wondering why I can’t get closure with you. Scott thinks it’s because you were my first true love. My first real relationship. That you’ll always have a hold on me because of that and there isn’t much to do about it.” Todd shook his head. “And this fucks up my head.”

I couldn’t stop myself, so I hugged him. His hands held me tight to his body and I caressed his hair, the way I always did. I knew when he was hurting and struggling, and my natural instinct was to make it go away.

“I’ll get better, I promise.” I assured him, hating to see him like this.

“I missed your perfume. I think I forgot how much I loved it.” Todd whispered in my ear, making chills run all over my body.

I didn’t want to admit it, but everything he said, applied to me as well. He was my first love, the one I thought was meant to be. That’s why being apart hurt so much.

After a minute, I started distancing myself from his embrace. I looked up at him, our bodies still pretty close. His deep stare, the close distance. It was all making my heart almost jump out of my chest. I hated the effect he had on me with a simple look. His eyes went from mine to my lips and back. And for a second, I missed the feel of his kiss.

Maybe I expressed it in my eyes, but in the next second his mouth was on mine, his hand pressing onto my hair, pulling me close. Our tongues, lips, breaths. It was soft and rough, desperate and needy. For those seconds, everything was okay. Nothing else mattered.

His hands found the back of my thighs, lifting me easily and putting me on top of the kitchen counter, opening my legs to fit in the middle. I couldn’t stop kissing him, desperately, if my life depended on it. He made me insane, for the better and worse. The hold tight of his hands on my thighs, the way he’d moan in my mouth when I pulled his hair and bit his lower lip. I knew exactly how to make him tic, and so did he.

I could feel him instantly getting hard inside his pants as his body was pressed into mine. For a second, I forgot where we were, I forgot about the world. My head was blurred by the fact that he made me feel so good.

“What the fuck?” Jeff said, stopping on his tracks on the kitchen entrance.

[icosmohunters]

chapter eight : master of puppets

chapter eight of cosmo hunters!

word count : 8.2k words

synopsis : the pirates have opted to help hope out properly in an attempt to get their hands on the puppeteer, a cyber mastermind capable of sick atrocities. after touching down on the m-colony, hope can’t help but feel uneasy, in worry that somehow this infamous criminal would hurt her. or worse, someone else.

the m-colony was perhaps one of the few human bases in the solar system that touches solid ground. though smaller than the earth, mars held a behemoth city on its surface, capable of withstanding some of the conditions normal architecture wouldn’t be able to handle. this includes the slight earthquakes and sandstorms that occur on the surface of this red rock.

out of all the planets in the solar system, hope has never had the chance to visit mars, the earth’s smaller but stranger brother, the red planet, often suspected of harnessing life, harnessing magma and active volcanoes underneath its soil, capable of supporting life if the earth were to end tomorrow.

mars was not only colonized with methods of living to support human life, but it was also taken in as extra space for agriculture, and the endless fields of dust and mahogany dirt that seemed to stretch on forever were often used as a method of sport; racing. 

even whilst entering the atmosphere now, hope could see the hoverbikes speeding past each other in a series of turns and jumps over cliffs and fields and hills, the riders wearing suitable equipment like helmets and specific suits.

“ after this is all over, remind me to book a seat to one of these things, i was never fond of formula one ”, the bounty hunter told her a.i. she had been given clearance soon upon entering the atmosphere, and now she followed a set of floating lights positioned as guidelines towards the nearest base. “ but that, i can definitely get behind. ”

“ we can do so after we finish what we’ve come here for ”, a.j stated and hope couldn’t help but mimic his voice before rolling her eyes. nevertheless, a.j always made sense, they did have to finish what they came here for. 

according to her artificial intelligence, the puppeteer has been hiding out within the human m-colony, somewhere within a run-down version of the apartments the humans first built after they entered the planet. the structures were left to rot and many building companies gave up on bull-dozing the place. so now, it was there, a ghostly sight.

and home to a potentially conspiring force of evil, and hope had to stop them.

m-colony was covered by a massive, almost dome-like shield harnessing the oxygen required for humans to breathe. the city was perhaps as big as beijing back home, but nowhere as big as the j-colony. nothing could reach the size of that monolith of a city. 

skyscrapers, roads, billboards, and marketing spread all around her. she peered out through nebula’s window and inhaled deeply. it was all perfect, the systems were complicated but safe and not the types that could be breached. however, this might not stop a particularly nasty person from ruining it all.

and by this nasty person, she meant the puppeteer. not much was known about them as a person but they were capable of doing things that could potentially kill millions. all that they’ve done is steal money from global banks, leaving people with little to no money in accounts and sending the earth in a financial crisis a couple of years back.

upon landing at the docks, hope let out a sigh of relief. ever since she left the headquarters, she’s felt like she was being closely followed by the very company she’s been working with. so far out into space, they couldn’t exactly trace her location nor her status nor log into the camera feed of her ship, not without her permission. but she still felt odd about it, worried.

maybe it was nothing to worry about but she would constantly think back to beatrice yoh, standing on that stage with a proud smile on her face announcing the strict regulations that had implemented to avoid a mutiny or a coup. it was a haunting memory, ironically the worst thing hope has ever witnessed.

a powerful woman imposing a regime that was going to put people in their places, people who disobeyed. as someone who was breaching at least a dozen protocols, hope was beyond anxious. all for the sake of keeping these pirates somewhere safe before taking them to where they had to be.

removing her seatbelts from her, hope took the elevator down and found the pirates gathered in the lounge once more. there was a proper meeting room somewhere in the nebula but hope never used it, especially since she rarely had visitors. besides, the lounge made her feel less worried about all of this, convincing her to brush it off like it was a family gathering of some sort.

“ we felt bad for taking some of your weapons so we managed to store some new ones after a shopping spree at j-colony ”, enzo announced, loading a firearm that seemed to be a ray gun of some sort, but it looked like it was capable of so much more.

hope shook her head, “ i usually stack up on my weapons when i go back home. dad keeps huge storage of them in the garage, he’d lend me some. but i don’t know when i’ll be going home, so i appreciate it. thank you. ”

something she’s noticed within the coming days is growing used to the presence of these strangers. she grew used to quinn and enzo bickering during a game, she grew used to the rattling of pans in the kitchen from vivienne and dawn. she wasn’t so used to dom making any noises but she grew used to seeing him about.

she never thought she would get used to it, but she was getting there. it was still unfortunate to have to wait for someone to finish showering or for her to eat within a close range of people. but then again, baby steps.

“ oh, it’s not a problem ”, vivienne spoke. “ besides, you just said yourself you don’t know when that would be. but it’s good to have weapons in case another name pops up on the list. ” hope nodded, looking down. “ this puppeteer . . . are you sure you’re confident in going after him? ”.

the captain rose her head once more with a chuckle, “ well, i have no choice. voyage gives me the targets and i either accept it or pass it on. and i’ve never passed down a challenge, not a single one in my years as a bounty hunter. “ besides, this is not the kind of person we want wandering around. something needs to be done about them. ”

“ you say that and yet you’re letting us go along with you ”, dom said and hope looked over whilst adjusting her wristband. “ sure, enzo can be quite manipulative when he wants to be. but why not just let us stay here? ”.

quinn called from the other side of the room, “ scared to die out there, dominic? we’re safe in a larger group. besides, we might not even need to attack if this person is a cyber mastermind rather than, you know, a physical one. ” he looked over his shoulder and towards dawn. “ besides, the medic’s staying behind. ”

hope snapped her head towards dawn quickly, “ you sure you’re okay with guarding the ship by yourself? i mean, nebula is safe and all but you might get bored quite easily. ”

“ i-it’s fine! ”, dawn squeaked, waving her hand to dismiss the statement. “ besides, i only ever come to use when someone’s hurt. and going in a large group, you might find yourselves injured. i can somehow sense it. so i’ll stay here, preparing anything in case someone comes back hurt. ”

vivienne snorted, “ knowing everyone, i bet it’ll be enzo. ”

“ rude! ”.

after a small gathering, hope went and got changed into something appropriate for the mission and this time, she made sure to lock the door in case someone with curious eyes came in to peek at her again. slipping her jacket on, she looked into the mirror and noticed her hair. “ fuck, you’re going to bother me ”, she cursed and grabbed a hairband before taking to leave her room.

in terms of weapons and ammunition, she had plenty in her backpack, it was heavy because of that but she could persevere. besides, comfort was the last thing on her mind when she had a person to hunt down. but her preferred weapon of choice remained with the band resting on her shoulder, the rifle she’s spent years protecting.

“ you look like you’re going to war ”, quinn commented when she came out of the ship. the items felt heavy on her body but the sooner they got to hunting, the less she would have to worry about carrying the damn thing around.

“ i might as well be ”, she said and grabbed a handful of her hair into her hands and then tied it up into a semi-neat ponytail. her hair’s never been an issue but this was a serious matter and if she missed her shot because of a brown lock of hair, she was going to lose it. 

dawn grinned brightly behind them, “ good luck, guys! and stay together, don’t split up! ”.

m-colony was fuller today than most days, people spreading into the streets with excited beams on their faces. they didn’t seem to be aware of the armed group of people walking among them, but then again, the blinding lights may capture someone’s attention and then cause a frenzy, a daze. hope would have been lost in it herself if she hadn’t been focused on the matter at hand.

the place where the puppeteer’s lair was possibly located was some miles from the main city, the outskirts of the deserted lands that were of no use to the human civilization at that moment.

“ how are we going to get there? ”, vivienne called over her shoulder towards hope. since she was at the front, and the cacophony of noise was enough to cloud their voices slightly, she had to yell.

“ there’s a car service not far from here! all we need to do is hire one! ”, hope called back and looked around, checking her location on her wristband. the location was a good half hour drive from them, but perhaps the drive would be enough to calm her nerves. she doesn’t like going into missions tense.

the car service was definitely not far, it was cross the street. now that she thought about it, based on the positions of these billboards and the streets lined up, she recognized times square back in new york. she chuckled and shook her head for a moment, humans bring their brand everywhere. it’s quite cute.

“ alright, we can hire it for four hours. after the time limit, it shuts down and we won’t be able to get back inside it ”, quinn warned after they had gotten the car they acquired. it was a hovercar, like most, with a beige, suede interior. “ so i suggest we hurry it up. ”

“ hah, four hours is more than enough to find a man and kill him. well, knowing how insane space can be, i might just have to take that back ”, enzo put in a lighthearted tone, before shrugging and pulling the door open for vivienne and hope. “ ladies first! ”.

the car was similar to that of a jeep, except it was incased with glass windows holding the oxygen required for the drivers to breathe. a snoop around and hope found it to be in good condition to drive, so she threw the coordinates onto the gps and then adjusted her seat-belt.

dom had chosen to drive, so hope remained in the back seat and gave a quick look around them before the car started moving. she saw the billboards, the skyscrapers, and many cameras. cameras that the puppeteer could potentially be peeking through, being the sneak he was.

always observing but never courageous enough to step in and actually act. a coward in a way but an ironically brave one, considering he was capable of committing crimes with the mere click of a button on a control panel. a hivemind, smart enough to never had to step out a confined space hidden somewhere in mars.

well, hope was going to blast that confined space to pieces.

the ride out onto the quiet zone was, well, quiet. racing through martian landscapes, seeing the mountains and valleys up close. it was like a ride through the old deserts back home, but even deader. the sky wasn’t particularly blue, it was gloomy and the sandstorms in the distance were horrifying but the car persevered.

“ so, should we play a game ‘i spy’? ”.

“ i can only see s and i ”, quinn muttered under his breath. hope looked up at him with a raised brow. “ sand and an idiot. ” this time, the bounty hunter couldn’t help but chortle, the kid was too good. he could be a comedian if being a pirate ever got boring. 

“ i’ll punch some sense into you, kiddo ”, enzo warned with a glare, but it was passive. hope chuckled and looked out of the window as the car continued moving.

the ride couldn’t have lasted more than twenty minutes with how fast dom was driving. after ten minutes, they seemed to have exited the main part of the city and entered fields and large, vast structures which she assumed held cattle and livestock. perhaps even the farms needed to feed these people.

and after another five minutes, these structures soon faded and it was just sand and hills for a while. but then hope began to see something on the horizon, something tall and saw it as an apartment building of some sort. rotting and falling apart. another one followed briefly after. and then another.

checking the gps a minute later, hope’s eyes flickered to the terrain of abandoned buildings and she felt a chill run down her spine. “ well, this is it. hear that? ”, she questioned and it seemed like everyone held their breath. 

all that could be heard outside was the cries of the wind, sound traveled solemnly over a landscape of nothing but what was once a lovely place, lush of life and the humans that once lived there but now it was sleeping. dormant. not completely dead, not with a single human being there. but it most certainly looked like red limbo, something that caused hope’s breathing to tremble. despite seeming dead, it felt like something slept beneath the soil. sleeping. or very much awake. waiting. an eye peering through somewhere, looming over every stretch of the landscape in search of . . . something. a watchful beast.

quinn exhaled, “ sounds like my literal nightmare. ”

“ the quiet zone. well, now it’s quiet, didn’t use to be. once home to about a million humans, apartments and accommodation scattered everywhere. the first establishment of life on mars, and now it’s a ghost town ”, hope explained in a grave tone before reaching into her backpack. “ everyone, put your masks on. ”

“ the humans migrated, didn’t they? moved to the big city? why would he be hiding out here of all places? ”, enzo questioned mostly to himself before he seemed to figure out the answer himself. “ oh, he’s arrogant. ”

“ well, try stealing a hundred billion dollars from every global bank on earth. that’s a self-esteem boost ”, dom said before pulling his oxygen mask on. hope bit back a smile, she couldn’t help but agree. 

after putting on the masks, it was time to head out. hope remained cautious because upon entering a territory of a prying animal, you wouldn’t want to wake it up or even piss it off before you get the chance to come within single proximity of it. so she warned the pirates to keep quiet and to stick close together.

stepping on martian soil, it’s perhaps the most thrilling experience hope has felt. she’s been to titan, europa, io, even to jupiter but nothing felt quite surreal like stepping on the red planet. she paid a glance around her, seeing the absence of people, people she thought would be living happily.

but not a single one in sight. not a single one.

“ alright, in which direction are we going? ”.

hope looked towards a puzzled vivienne and then pointed northwards. the base was said to be located somewhere beneath the ground. where? she didn’t know. and she didn’t have the equipment to dig down. so she prayed that perhaps these apartments had a basement that this monster could be living in.

so they went north. crossing these structures, seeing them up close right from the very bottom, hope realized just how behemoth they were, craning her head back to peek at the very top. doors had come off their hinges, windows broken, the little playground area deserted and scattered with graffiti.

to think that normal people once lived there. biting her lip, she looked back just once. it felt weird, then again this is the first time she’s doing something like this, approaching the devil’s lair with hardly any preparation. all she knew is that she had to be the one to murder this guy. the pirates could injure him, but she needed that final bullet to be fired by her. no else but her.

“ you know, for a planet that was supposed to be earth’s sister, it does a good job in being anything but that ”, enzo commented before kicking a pebble not too far away from him. it rolled over and then paused. “ just . . . rock and dirt. is anything alive? ”.

hope looked around before she continued leading the way. “ well, first off, correct yourself. it’s earth’s brother, more like. ares, god of war, male, one of the twelve olympians, get it right ”, she corrected him. “ second off, they believe this is what an early planet earth would have looked like. magma flowing underneath the ground, sleeping mountains and volcanoes burning up all the elements of life. ice being melted by this heat, generating water, generating the incubators for life . . . except mars hasn’t changed that much. they believe it’ll be a few years until it’ll be like the earth. ”

“ i think it’s quite a shame. it’s so similar to back home ”, quinn mumbled. “ minus the sandstorms and earthquakes that could happen. it’s why some people are scattered to build on the surface and choose to do it beneath the surface. ”

hope chuckled, “ i watched the documentary. yeah, mars is great but it’s one angry planet that hasn’t settled in just yet. the black sheep of the family, if you will. then again, so was ares. ”

“ well, at least it’s not venus. ”

“ weren’t they in love? aphrodite and ares? ”.

“ i don’t want a history lesson on god sex, thank you very much. ”

after about ten minutes of pacing, hope’s gps beeped and the map on the right side of her helmet showed the red dot blaring. they’d arrived. but there was nothing. they were pretty much there but there was nothing, nothing but red dirt and painful silence.

“ well, looks like you got the wrong coordinates ”, dom voiced and turned to hope. “ are you sure this is where we’re supposed to be? we can’t dig down, we don’t have the tools for it. ”

enzo kissed his teeth, “ stop annoying her, dom and let her think. maybe this guy is using a field of some sort to blind us, invisible. like the cloaking feature, the one we had on our ship before we left it! or perhap— ”.

“ enzo, step back! ”.

the captain of the pirates let out an echoing gasp and took a major step back and the ground beneath him seemed to crumble slightly. and then for the first time, hope heard a sound. like something falling on the ground and so she advanced forward towards enzo and saw what he could have fallen into.

a ravine of some sort. except it wasn’t a natural one, it was artificially made, hope noticed the balconies and the doors and windows and the walls and noticed that some apartments had been built inside a huge ravine on the ground. and it was deep, at least a hundred feet in depth.

if enzo had dropped in, he could have died. not even the slightly weaker gravity could have cushioned his fall. hope took a straight glance down and winced before turning to the captain and patting his shoulder, “ nice reflexes. ”

enzo sighed nervously, “ y-yeah, well, i try. ”

“ so, i’m assuming this is it. a giant hole on the ground, of course, the base would be here, it’s where the red dot is. now, it’s a matter of tracing this fucker down ”, dom said and crouched down slightly just by the edge. hope anxiously moved closer to ensure nothing bad happened. she didn’t want him toppling over the edge. “ should we take a dive inside? ”.

of course, there was only one answer to his question. they had to go in. there must have been at least ten different levels of these apartments and they managed to get into the top one. it was like council estates in the united kingdom, with a balcony shielding the drop down. and below, a basketball court. desolate.

on the top floor, hope looked and saw nothing but doors and doors and broken windows and some other doors. all of them appeared to be broken down or scratched in some way. she frowned and started to walk slowly down the hall.

“ this is something of silent hill, this is creepy and i don’t want to be here ”, enzo muttered under his breath before calling out. “ uh, hope! can we hurry it up a bit? ”.

“ shut up ”, hope snapped and listened out for another sound. the only sound she heard was the pebble hit the ground, nothing else. just utter silence and it was grinding her gears with how cold it was, how desolate and lifeless it was. not even her ship was as lifeless as this . . .

but that’s when she sat it. a door at the very end of the hall. seemingly polished, not at all damaged like the surrounding ones, like the rot didn’t affect it like it wasn’t even supposed to be there. not a hint of rust in the hinges. nothing at all. an ordinary, new, polished door. 

hope hurried her steps and motioned over her shoulder for the group to follow her and they did, so when she reached the door, she set her hand on the handle. and then pushed it down. 

the door beeped.

hope flinched back in fear there was an explosive behind it but it was nothing, it was only the door which slid slowly open. the noise it created was ghastly, like a creature crying out. a creature so bizarre she can’t even compare it to anything. “ that’s definitely gonna wake someone up ”, vivienne uttered. 

“ well, then we should hurry. ”

stepping inside, it was unlike anything hope suspected. she thought it would have been at least cozy, similar to the vintage decorations back home. the way her grandmother used to arrange her furniture. a sense of home. but no, it was like she had stepped inside a spaceship. gulping, she grasped her riffle and nodded to the group after scouting around. 

they had landed in a hall of some sort, a hall going left, right, and forwards. and she didn’t like that. it suggested the idea of splitting up and she was exactly against it. but they were definitely in the puppeteer’s lair, there was no doubt about it.

“ i always say go forward. we’d be going deeper into the ground and away from the apartments in themselves. he’s dug deeper, anyone can see that ”, quinn muttered and stood beside hope for a moment. “ what do you think? ”.

hope rose her brows slightly after sighing, “ well, forwards is the only way to go. no turning back now, not when we’ve come this far. ” she nodded forward and proceeded, hearing the footsteps continue behind her. 

the halls were similar to that of the nebula, silver with lit lines dug into the walls, no lamps required to keep it lit. the floors were polished, some sort of marbles and it was making her footsteps echo, something she didn’t need at that moment. at the end of the hall, there seemed to be a sealed door. 

“ well, that was fun until it lasted ”, enzo snorted before raising his gaze up before humming. “ there’s an opening above us. and judging from these designs, there’s something for us to crawl through. like shafts. anyone want to do the honors first? ”.

hope shrugged and adjusted her backpack and riffle, “ fuck it, why not? ”. enzo reached up quickly and gave the shaft entrance a tap with the butt of his gun and it budged, it could be removed. he pressed harder and the hatch opened completely, more than enough space for her to crawl through.

“ need a hand u— ”.

“ mars has weaker gravity for a reason ”, hope uttered and then jumped, feeling her feet touch the ground. it was like she was lightweight for a second, she grabbed her hands onto the edges and then hauled herself up with the strength she had. she crouched in fear of hitting her head, but she never did. she looked about and blinked. “ uh . . . it’s another hall. ”

enzo scoffed before jumping through himself and climbing onto this new level and looking around. “ well, so much for my james bond movie moment. i always watched to climb through a shaft ”, he complained. hope snorted and rolled her eyes. “ alright, you lot, come through, it’s safe. ”

after the other three had crawled through, hope looked at the two ends of the hallway she could take and bit her lip. “ usually this should be easy, but it’s one way or the other ”, she uttered before standing properly, despite the quiver in her legs that she couldn’t hide. she was shaking, worried. 

ever since she had arrived, it felt like something was digging into her head, telling her to turn back even though she’s never been the type of person to give up halfway. no, she’s never even been the type of person to give up at all. so why was she so willing to drop her weapon right now and run back to her ship like a coward?

“ well, we could split up ”, vivienne suggested whilst crouching to adjust her shoes. “ i know, terrible strategy but we have each other on a call. we can trace each other down and send locations easily. it’ll be easier to trace him down. ”

enzo groaned but then ran a hand through his brown locks and clenched his jaw. “ right, well, not a bad idea at all. i’ve just seen too many horror movies to know how it usually goes down. but we’re capable, w-we’ll be fine ”, he decided and looked towards the captain of the nebula. “ i’ll go with y— ”.

“ no ”, hope interrupted. “ if this guy really forgot to turn his security on today, i’ll get lucky with one shot. one bullet. but if there’s anything else out here, at all, i’ll be able to protect myself from it alone. i can fight, but only alone. you guys work better as a team. if you find him, you can fight together. we have equal chances like this. it’s just better that i remain alone. ”

enzo opened his mouth to say something but seemingly closed it and glared down. he cursed under his breath and moved away. dom stepped up, looking at her with a puzzling look. “ you sure you’re okay going alone? ”, he questioned. 

“ yeah, of course ”.

it took some convincing. in fact, it took a lot of convincing. enzo was hesitant on letting her go by herself but there wasn’t really an element of choice available considering the circumstances they were in. for all she knew, this place was a maze and her memory was better when alone. her senses were better when alone. her fighting was better when alone.

she needed to this alone. so whilst she went forward, they moved back. and even if they went opposite ways, they could potentially end up on opposite sides of the quiet zone. and she wasn’t going to risk it too much, so she paid attention. she gripped the rifle in her hand, ready to use it when the time came.

the door slid open when it sensed her. it really felt like a spaceship, or like she was walking through a voyage base buried deep underground. the end of her rifle rose immediately as she carefully aimed and tiptoed in, and found herself in a wide opening. it was dark, but then a sound beeped and the lights snapped on. just like that. 

hope held her breath.

this was horrifying, but it felt like she was in a storage room. no, a lab. no, a huge hall of some sort with tubes scattered all around, displays of . . . robots. it felt like she had walked into a hall of fame, in which display housing a robot. robots whose models she’s never seen before. it felt like walking through a museum. alone. at night.

but there was a sense of familiarity in these robots. she’s seen something similar to them before, a long time ago, perhaps when she was a kid. or older than that. she looked around, but her guard never dropped. who knew if these things were sentient, aware of her and ordered to get rid of her.

when she thought about it, looking at the models of these robots, built to resemble humans, covered by traces of glowing blue lights over a black, armored body of some sort, she felt like she’d seen them somewhere at least before. perhaps during a meeting with voyage or a picture her father had shown her. 

hope gulped, aiming at them and seeing that there was no other exit nor entrance other than the very one she’d walked through. the door remained wide open and she could very much retreat but something told her to wait. with furrowed brows, she began to look around.

there were military crates stacked around, some laying down on their sides which someone used as a desk, based on the papers scattered and the lamp shining over them. who even uses paper anymore? hope, being a curious soul, picked one piece of paper and saw what appeared to be rough sketches of robotic models drawn. similar to the very ones around. they were all the same, though, and the one on the paper looked a lot more . . . intimidating.

whatever the puppeteer did on a regular basis, she wasn’t aware of. but she most definitely knew that he was fond of making weapons of mass destruction. why else would he make so man—

hope’s heart dropped. she gasped and dropped the piece of paper and bolted for the door but it closed firmly before she even got the chance to reach it. she let out a yelp and started to bang her curled fist into the metal in hopes that it would echo, in hopes that someone, any of the pirates, would hear it.

“ g-guys, guys! come back, guys! don’t go down there, please! come back! ”.

“ well, what do we have here? ”.

hope didn’t turn around at first. every muscle in her body seemed to freeze into ice, stone, whatever. she froze completely, paralyzed with fear. fear. she wasn’t accustomed to being scared, nothing in the universe could make her scared. perhaps death scared her. an early death, to be more specific but she still felt fearful. very fearful.

“ hope, the bounty hunter. top twenty on the list. i mean, you’re on the eleventh place! one more kill and boom, you might end up in the top five ”, the voice continued. hope gulped, feeling her previously frozen muscles begin to tremble. “ oh, don’t avoid my eyes, hope! look at me, let’s see that pretty face. ”

what could she do? if she wasn’t careful, this guy could potentially disintegrate her. fry her. freeze her and then pushed her frozen body to the ground. so she turned, reluctantly but she still turned. her bottom lip quivered and her breathing became erratic. but she still dared to look.

the puppeteer’s face appeared on the screen in front of her, a huge screen tucked into the other side of this enormous room. his face, far from ugly, was ironically terrifying. because he was a beautiful man with dark hair and oval, pale, clear face. lips pouty and jawline sharp. but his eyes . . . oh, his eyes.

they weren’t human, hope wanted to say. they looked far too unreal, far too artificial; two glowing, purples eyes looking right back at her. purple, of all colors, her favorite. it was like staring into an android of some sort, the ones used in modeling. he didn’t look real. but then his lips rose into a sickening grin that left her stomach aching, the food daring to come out.

“ beautiful. at least you’ve got that going for you, good looks. good looks, a decent wit, you also pack quite the punch ”, he uttered softly before paused and smirking. “ but you’re rotten on the inside, aren’t you? oh, i’ve heard all about it. the ice princess, the ice queen, lonely assassin. rubbish names, but i like the one i picked for you. wanna hear it? ”. he laughed suddenly, rather maniacally. “ hopeless. ”

she felt like she was going to faint but she battled to remain awake or at least aware of her surroundings, of the things around her. of her intention and why she was here. wherever this guy was, he most likely wasn’t near her. unless if he was behind the screen . . . literally behind the screen. 

but she didn’t dare to aim and shoot to try, especially as he regained his composure and his expression fell stone-cold once again. “ and now you’re here. all alone. right into my trap. i heard what you said, i’m insulted, actually. i’m quite capable of getting to you myself. but where is the fun in that . . . when i can do, this? ”.

at this, hope felt the ground shake. and the floor not too far away from her, with a circular frame attached to it, began to slide open. and from the ground, a figure seemed to have emerged. ascending. hope held her breath when she saw it was one of the robots. almost identical to the ones on the displays.

except it didn’t feel like it was just a dummy. the helmet it wore seemed to show an led light, lighting up within the shape of a puppet. a normal puppet, a circus puppet. a puppet you would see in the movies. but it was horrifying, the cheeks were large and the smile was crooked and the eyes were wide and staring right into her soul.

it was like something out of her biggest nightmare.

“ oh, this is so exciting! ”, the puppeteer cried and clapped his hands happily. “ marvelous, isn’t it? say hello to the juggernaut. handsome fellow, ain’t he? made him myself. he’s quite fond of games. especially one that includes, let’s say . . . a boomerang. ”

gulping, hope watched as the robot rose its metal arm, letting out small wiring noises as an object came into view. a circular object with inside cut open, it looked like a full boomerang. or like a flying disk of death, especially at the spikes suddenly poked out.

the puppeteer squealed, “ i love it when he does that, he looks like a superhero! eek, i can’t wait to watch this. hope versus the juggernaut. ” he clapped and whistled. “ let the match begin! ”.

hope’s eyes scanned the area and soon she grabbed her rifle as soon as she boomerang was thrown, lunging forward and ducking for cover behind a crater. thank god there was a fuck load of them around the hall. she ducked and saw the bladed boomerang dig into the door it had been thrown towards. seeing how much it had dug into the metal, her stomach dropped.

no, no, she couldn’t die here!

harnessing the courage, hope rose and slammed the rifle over the crate, looming over until she saw the juggernaut. it extended his hand out and the boomerang reeled back, ending up safely in his hand once again. oh, great, magnetism!

rolling her eyes, hope fired one bullet and it managed to see right through the range of the bullet and cut it. cut the bullet in half. “ oh come on! ”, the girl cried and threw her rifle over her shoulder before bolting to the sides, remaining behind the crates at all times.

the impact of lasers being fired in her direction hit the wall in front of her, so she tried to keep her head down unless if she wanted to get it cleaned from her head completely. she peeked once again and the juggernaut aimed its metal arm towards her and throw the boomerang. when it was thrown, before she could duck, she spotted something. something interesting about the object.

and then ducked before she could get her head chopped off. she rolled on her stomach after coming to a clearing and fired another kind of bullet, a stun bullet. and he wasn’t able to cut through it this time, especially with the boomerang gone. “ take that, motherfucker! ”, she yelled when the bullet met its leg. and then it beeped. and then it blew up.

oh, nevermind, that wasn’t a stun bullet, that was a mini grenade.

the leg had been completely blown off and yet the robot managed to remain firmly on its feet, and then it looked at her as if to growl or frown and drew the boomerang back. the juggernaut suddenly lunged and hope threw herself back when it jumped and smashed its fists into the ground.

like some sort of hulk-like move, the ground shook beneath her feet. hope cried out when the grip from the rifle was lost, it ended up flying out of her grip and over to the side of the room, which she wouldn’t be able to reach without getting a limb cut cleanly off. 

“ alright . . . let’s try it another way ”, hope growled and picked herself up from the ground, watching the robot approach slowly. it was heavy, heavy because of its armor so taking a step would take long enough for hope to jump away. and jump, she did. 

on top of a crater and onto another, leaping on top of one and then another, hearing the beams just barely missing her head. grunting, she fought her way across the room and then lunged up and forwards, and a beam just right past a strand of her brown hair, burning it off. 

but she managed to jump back to where her weapon was, leaping, gripping the rifle and rolling back over her shoulder until the soles of her feet met the ground again and her arms rose to aim. and then she fired another bullet. another mini grenade, rather.

it hit one of its arms but it only managed to burn the hand off, not the complete arm. hope growled and rose her rifle once again whilst rushing to take cover, but then the juggernaut threw the boomerang once more and it didn’t hit hope, but it pretty much chopped the top end of her rifle clean.

she gasped, ducking when the boomerang withdrew and a laser struck on the ground just beside her. throwing herself behind another crater, she looked at her rifle, well, what remained of it, and she swore she teared up at that moment. gnarring deeply, hope threw the rifle to the side. 

“ you’re gonna have to pay for that, dipshit ”.

she was going to have to do this properly. and in a potentially suicidal way but it was the only way out of this duel.

“ you know what i love about robots? ”, she dared to ask, and it seemed like even the robot had paused, staring at her. “ that anything they drop, anything at all, ends up being a weapon! ”.

in her grip now was the very leg the robot had lost, which she threw towards the boomerang and instead of reacting, it seemed like he let it happen. when it dropped, they both lunged at the same time for it, but hope had enough power in her to sweep her aching legs beneath the robot’s feet, tripping him up. she cried in pain, forgetting he was made of metal.

but she rolled forward and caught the boomerang. the handle was firm and free of spikes, which was a relief. hope let out a sigh and picked herself up, but grunted when it seemed like the weapon sprung up with a life of its own. and that’s when she realized the juggernaut was reeling back once more and if she got close, it could potentially be the death of her. 

so she caught hold of something and brought herself closer to it, knowing that if she weakened her grip she would end up chopped in half. grunting, she saw the robot pull harder for its boomerang, but at this point, hope’s genius struck again.

“ you want it? ”, she questioned through a strained voice. she smirked painfully before laughing. “ alright, here you go! ”.

she did let go, but not before pulling it and then letting it escape from her fingers. the impact, of course, was like a catapult effect. the harder you pull, the harder and higher it goes. and when the boomerang came back, it struck the robot instead of ending in its grip again.

he cut his own arm off. and without both hands, the boomerang was no use. smirking properly now, hope rose a cocky brow. “ so, should we end this? ”, she questioned, bowing her head in respect before sweeping under his feet and grabbing the boomerang, take advantage of his slowness.

gripping the handle, hope breathed and rose it, before cutting it into the robot’s waist. she cringed at the way the weapon shook at the impact and the gross sound it made, of metal against metal. but she pushed harder until she left a great cut on its back.

kicking it forward, hope watched it stumble and then kicked herself off the ground once again before throwing the boomerang. it cut into the robot’s hip, and then came back to her. she inhaled deeply, avoiding the spikes before going in for the final blow. 

grunting, hope sent the boomerang hunting for the robot’s head. and before it could fall, soon after it was sliced cleanly off, the bounty hunter turned and roundhouse kicked the head across the room. she didn’t care what the head hit. but she liked the sound the impact made.

it was dead, unmoving. staring at its fallen body, the bounty hunter then blinked back into reality. panting for a moment and hunching over to press her hand over her chest, it felt like her heart would give up on her.

“ i-i think i win that one. ”

looking up, hope saw the doors slide open and bolted. she didn’t think to look back at the puppeteer if he had come online once again. she ran for the door and down the hall she had come through and to the other end and when those doors slid open, she let out a gasp and covered her mouth with her shaking hand.

smaller androids, so many of them, with bodies mangled over the ground, bits, and pieces all over, ripped cords and wires spilling onto the marble floor. even if it was nowhere human, hope still felt sick to her stomach.

the pirates were fighting, they looked as if they’d been fighting for hours. she saw enzo stab the blade of his rifle into the chest of an android, she saw vivienne lead some of them into incinerators where they cried out as they burned. she saw dom shooting one of the ground before smashing his boot onto its head. 

“ hope, watch out! ”.

the bounty hunter yelped and snapped back into her senses, throwing the weapon she still held in hand and watching it sweep through four of five androids at the same time. reducing them to scrapes and fillings. the girl exhaled uneasily and then ran to the others when danger seemed to reduce. 

“ what the hell happened?! ”, she cried and then spotted quinn wincing in the corner and gripping his waist. the girl’s eyes widened, throwing herself forward and rushed to the boy before grabbing a hold of him. “ f-fuck, you’re hurt. h-hey, look at me! t-that’s right, keep looking at me! ”.

quinn squinted at the girl and winced. hope frowned and looked at the others quickly whilst trying to keep quinn on his feet. “ he needs immediate help, we need to get out! ”, dom declared, shouting over the mayhem. 

“ but the puppeteer, we haven’t gotten him! ”.

“ quinn’s bleeding out! ”.

enzo seemed willing to keep going, dom was against it, vivienne just ran over to hope and quinn to attempt to help. “ it’s up to hope ”, the young woman said. oh, hope hated that. she hated calling the shots.

she was close to getting to the puppeteer. if they persevered, they would be able to find him in no time. but this place was a maze. they would get lost and quinn would bleed out by the time they got out of here. she was so close to killing the man she had come here for and yet . . .

was she really going to let a kid die for the price of bounty points?

firing a painful look at that boy, hope grimaced and then nodded. “ we’re leaving! get back to the car immediately. hang in there, quinn ”, she told the boy and with vivienne’s aid, she pulled him towards the door and towards the hatchet, the gravity would cushion his descent so not a lot of damage would be done. they needed to hurry back. 

enzo and dom stayed behind briefly to get rid of any more androids that just kept coming like an army of ants. insects seeping through openings and prying their hungry hands towards the humans they’d been ordered to kill.

by the time they were on the surface, quinn could barely stand. so hope did the thing she did best, being strong. she grunted and put the boy on her back, and as painful as it was with some of her own injuries, she fought through. because she wasn’t the one dying, it was him.

the car door opened and hope slid quinn through, sitting him down. “ w-we need to get him to dawn immediately, he needs to get patched u— enzo, dominic, hurry the fuck up! ”, hope screamed, seeing the two bolting towards them. she went inside the car herself and watched vivienne attempt to calm quinn down, he looked fit to throw up. and hope couldn’t blame him.

by the time the car was moving, hope’s breathing was erratic. but she had to stay calm, especially for quinn. the boy was grunting and wincing, hope saw the tears spilling down his now pallid face. he was losing too much blood. “ stay with us, kiddo ”, hope prayed, grabbing his bloodied hand and ignoring the disgusting smell and sensation of the red substance. breathing deeply. in and out. trying not to think of it.

because quinn needed support right now. and all of her past grudges towards the pirates were not relevant at this point. quinn had gotten injured because of her mission because he had come along. and the others could have been hurt as well. what happened? how did the boy get struck?

looking at his injury, through her lightheadedness, hope could see it was a stab wound. so he was stabbed. and it was a deep stab. and she just prayed to god that he hadn’t struck a vital organ.

as the car rushed, hope furrowed her brows into a grimace and squeezed her eyes closed, praying, wishing, hoping. demanding safety, demanding peace. and that this boy would keep breathing and living as soon as he heals.

“ p-please god, i’m praying just this once. please, please keep this boy safe. ”

[strikearose]

IT’S ALL ABOUT CONNECTIONS (SASUNARU) (P. 2)

I hope you guys are safe. Here’s the second part of that silly !YoutubeSasuNaru story. Please feel free to give me your impressions <3 Summary :  Sasuke has had that massive crush on a youtuber for years when Rasengan randomly starts going to his class… You can also read it on ff.net and ao3. Part 1 (clic), Part 2 (clic), Part 3 (clic)

9:27.

Sasuke shook his head, annoyed at himself. There was nothing to be done : all hope of being able to concentrate again on what Mr. Sarutobi was telling had definitely vanished almost half an hour ago, when a certain blond head had finally made his noteworthy arrival. His last bit of coherent notes somehow proved it : the tip of his pen had dramatically crashed onto the sheet of paper, leaving a huge blotch of blue ink on top of it.

But no matter how much he was struggling, his onyx eyes were literally hypnotized by the psychedelic motif of the one Kiba who had called out (with way too much familiarity to his liking) ‘Hey Naruto, here !’.

No one in the auditorium had seemed the least surprised to see Rasengan bursting out in their class like that.

No one had made the slightest remark about this unusual interruption.

And worse than that - no one had flinched (or even giggled) at the sight of that awful washed out t-shirt.

The class had resumed straight-away as if nothing had happened for everyone, except for Sasuke, who couldn’t take his eyes off the curious pair only located a few rows away.

Kiba Inuzuka and Naruto.

Naruto.

It must have been his real name as he immediately turned towards the insufferable brown-haired boy before settling down beside him, a big grin on both of their faces.

So Rasengan’s real name was Naruto.

Naruto.

A strange name, but one that rolled almost pleasantly on the tongue.

Na-ru-to.

A name that months of search online had not been able to find.

Damn it - was it really like that? Rasengan just showed up one morning in the middle of their class and the teacher, without even batting an eyelid, let him sit next to… Kiba ?

… Just like that?

Kiba Inuzuka was dissipated, noisy and frankly dumb. If Rasengan really had just joined their class, wouldn’t it have been more appropriate to have him sit next to someone more serious? Someone who could at least explain to him what this class was all about? Someone reliable, rigorous.

Well - someone like him, for instance.

Tss - why did things never turn out like in a damn manga?

**

The next two days confirmed what Sasuke had understood. 'Naruto’ had really joined them in the middle of October. Incidentally, it had came to his knowledge that the blonde had previously taken a distance learning course.

Unfortunately, the black-haired man had not yet found a way to get in direct contact with the newcomer - even though, judging by the familiarity with which his classmates were already addressing him, it didn’t seem like that much of a challenge. Naruto seemed to be one of those people who didn’t need to be integrated: all he had to do was to jump into someone’s conversation after hearing them talk about music or a tv-show - and that was it, he was one of them. He didn’t care if he was interfering something or being intrusive - and no one seemed to mind: everyone welcomed his companionship with open arms.

In less than a week, Rasengan had become the complete idol of Konohamaru Sarutobi (who was trying in to follow him wherever he went), he had also managed to make the shy Hinata come out of her shell for a bit, and - more incredibly !, her cousin even seemed to tolerate his presence in class. And God knew how hard it was to be tolerated by Neji Hyuuga.

In short - it had taken Naruto less than a week to truly became one of them. It wasn’t just Inuzuka now - no, even that would have been too easy in comparison -, Rasengan was always surrounded by people.

Whether it was in class, during break time, in the cafeteria, at the washrooms, and even on the way to the subway, Rasengan was never alone. It was as if fate has decided to take away from Sasuke any possibility to talk to him.

His happy-go-lucky attitude, the honesty gleaming if his eyes, that damn smile that never seemed to leave him, even his laugh seemed to be contagious. There was something in Naruto, as in Rasengan, that you couldn’t help but notice, that made you wanting to be closer to him.

And just like Shino, who had mysteriously started to hand out more and more band stickers, Sasuke Uchiha had started to spend more and more time in the cafeteria, a place that Naruto and his clique seemed to be particularly fond of. It was their headquarters to him, Inuzuka, Nara, Sakura and many others.

And it was there that their very first interaction took place.

For once, Sasuke wasn’t even listening to their conversation: the hot drink machine had just been replaced and he was just trying to order a coffee.

« Yeah, you may not know it but it’s been six years since Mister Naruto has gone into that Youtube thing. »

The black-haired man’s sixth sense leapt up and, now paying way more attention to the conversation, pressed whatever first button within his reach.

« Ah, you say that, Kiba, but I might have a fan here ! »

Boom, boom.

It seemed to Sasuke that all eyes in the room had just laid on him - as if his moment to enter the stage had finally arrived.

But no: no one - literally no one - not even that harpy Ino or even Sakura were paying the slightest attention to him.

Everyone was watching Naruto.

« Pffft if it’s true, I’ll pay you lunch - Kiba giggled and turned towards the other tables of the cafeteria - Hey people, a star is among us! Does anyone recognize him? »

The entire cafeteria turned towards the blond videomaker who, not in the slightest embarrassed, had even stood up with a big grin on his face.

Sasuke hesitated for a moment before daring to do the same and looked at Rasengan.

A few seconds passed without a single voice being heard.

« Come on, nobody? - Kiba laughed - Ino dear? Saku darling? »

The two young women rolled their eyes before the nickname but ultimately shook their heads.

« Mr. Hatake perhaps? »

The teacher, who had come inside to get a snack, scratched his cheek before answering in the negative too. His knowledge in terms of videos were of a completely different kind.

With a triumphal grin, Kiba’s eyes wandered over all the students facing them, one by one, before stopping on the only one who hadn’t reacted yet.. - the opportunity was way too good.

« Well now, Sasuke? I think you’re his last hope. »

That was it.

His moment had finally arrived.

All eyes, including Rasengan’s, instantly laid upon him. They were hung upon his every word.

But Sasuke, once again, had just drowned into the silent contemplation of the blonde. But that time - it wasn’t about those blue, blue eyes, it was because of beautifully tanned skin.

They were now near the end of October, but it was as if he had just come back from vacation. It was almost indecent.

Luckily for him, the group had no idea of what was really going inside his head. They’ve all known Sasuke for most of their teenage years so the reason why he was looking at Naruto up and down was only because of that perfect opportunity to grow his momentum.

He was such a smart ass.

« Mhh no, I never saw your face before. »

Boom, boom.

Sasuke cursed himself for being such a coward, but there was no way he could make such a confession in front of the others - and certainly not in front of that stupid Inuzuka.

The group laughed as they saw Naruto’s sulky face.

« Hey ! - the student with the tousled blond hair tried in vain to defend himself - you can laugh all ya want! In the meantime, my channel is really growing ya know. I almost have four hundred thousand subscribers. That’s near half a million! »

The laughter doubled in intensity. Defeated, Naruto finally sat down with a sigh.

« You won’t say the same in a few months, you’ll see! »

The coffee machine made a jingling sound behind Sasuke, still under the shock of what had just happened, he took the cup of disgusting green tea and promptly left the cafeteria. He tried his best to keep a steady walk.

He still couldn’t believe it : he had just talked to Rasengan.

And it hadn’t went that bad.

**

Their first real discussion only happened few days later. And once again, Sasuke couldn’t have predict it.

When he had arrived at the uni, he’d been displeased to see a herd of students clustered in front of the bulletin board. It could only mean one thing: the results of the mid-term exams were in.

Oh.

His overall average had increased by half a point since his last semester - not so bad. And unsurprisingly, he was once again valedictorian, although the Nara was getting closer and closer to him.

He was seriously going to be wary of him.

His onyx gaze moved up on the list - just in case…

Found it.

Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto.

The name right after his.

For an overall average of nine…-

« Ninety-nine, a voice suddenly came from behind him and he jumped. SHIT! I was almost there. »

With frowned brows, Naruto took a good second to notice the presence of the model student.

« Oh, hey Sasuke! »

He had greeted him casually, a thousand miles away from suspecting what the dark-haired young man felt when he heard his name come out of his lips.

« I’m not passing, but I’m reaaally close to it. That should do it for the semester !, smiled the blonde, rubbing the back of his neck. What 'bout ya? »

That was it.

It was time to find something cool to respond to, something biting, intriguing. Something that came out of the ordinary. But without overdoing it.

…

In the end, Sasuke had to bring himself to state his result flatly.

«  Seventeen zero three.

- Oh shit, Naruto’s mouth opened wide. You’re actually pretty smart!

- …Yeah. »

Once again, Sasuke mentally cursed himself. It was really the only thing he could find.

However, Naruto didn’t seem to mind and the Uchiha’s overconfidence even made him chuckle.

Needless to say, after that Sasuke was on cloud nine the entire day.

**

Ting.

Sasuke took another sip of tomato juice before lowering his word processor window to open his web browser. He had this annoying habit of always leaving a facebook tab open, just in case.

Shino Aburame invites you to the following event…

Shino Aburame?

Uchiha arched an eyebrow, puzzled - he didn’t even know how that guy had ended up in his friends list. He clicked on the notification and almost choked when he saw what it was all about:

Shino Aburame invites you to the following event: Radioactive Worms concert on November 5th 8:30pm - Coffee Rokudaime.

…

Thanks, but no thanks.

The mouse pointer was about to click on the “Ignore” button on its’ own initiative when a crucial piece of information suddenly jumped out at him: 13 of your contacts are interested.

Well.

Before refusing for good, he could at least do a quick check.

A satisfied smile stretched his lips as he recognized among those names that of Kiba Inuzuka - a first.

Because if ’Naruto Uzumaki’ was nowhere to be find on Facebook, Sasuke knew at least where to find him in town: always in company of that loser.

**

Sasuke was late, fashionably late - the concert had already started for at least fifteen minutes. Suigetsu, who was dragging his feet behind him, cursed as soon as the first notes of music reached their ears. Well, to his defense, Sasuke had left him little choice - he had come to fetch his old fencing buddy at home, claiming a sudden urge to go for a drink and insisted on not going to the bar that was just in his street, choosing instead to make him walk three kilometers.

And the least that could be said was that Radioactive Worms was a very appropriate name.

Sasuke promised Suigetsu to buy him a drink as they soon as they could reach the counter. He somewhat felt quite sorry for the silver-haired young man, knowing how much he liked electro music, but - hey, he really needed an alibi.

There was no way he could look like a geek with no social life when he’d run into the entire Uzumaki gang -no.

Sacrifices had to be made.

And the gang really couldn’t get unnoticed : Kiba, Konohamaru and Lee (what the hell was Lee Rock doing here?), glued to the front of the stage, were already doing some weird kind of pogo dancing.

Sasuke squinted his eyes - there was no trace of the characteristic blonde hair he was looking for.

« Woh Sasuke, I can’t believe it! Is that Rasengan at the bar? »

This news had the effect of a bomb for Sasuke who promptly followed Suigetsu’s finger… to see Naruto ordering a mug of beer. The dark-haired young man took a deep breath before he walked with a decided step towards the videomaker, without even taking the time to answer his friend. He had finally managed to get rid of the dimwits, it was now or never!

« Oh, hey Sasuke! - Naruto was finally the one who started the discussion when he sensed a presence behind him - I didn’t know you were a fan of metal! »

'I didn’t either’, he failed to retort in time, while Suigetsu (who obviously felt obliged to follow him) was looking at him in awe.

The Hozuki was one of the few people who knew about Sasuke’s special appeal… to the blond guy’s videos. In fact, he’d had that bad habit of teasing him about so-called crush for a really long time. It happened so much that the upset Uchiha had swore never to confide in him again.

Suigetsu was therefore too shocked to learn that Sasuke knew freaking Rasengan to realize that he’d been shamelessly used.

« Yeah… - Sasuke cleared his throat, still uncomfortable in his company. You’re not with the others?

- Well, I’ll join them - the azure eyes looked at his friends and he laughed heartily when he saw them form a scramble - but first, I’m enjoying the happy-hour: half a pint for barely three dollars, can you believe it? »

Naruto finally seemed to notice the presence of Suigetsu who had been staring at him for a good thirty seconds.

« You two should hurry and order now! There’s only two minutes left - Naruto took a long sip before continuing - I’ll finish mine quickly to take another one in time!

- Oh cool, replied Sasuke distractedly as he couldn’t take his eyes off the beer-soaked lips of his interlocutor. »

The dark-haired man tried his best to ignore his friend’s mocking look when he obeyed the blond’s recommendations and ordered a pint for himself. Suigetsu knew how much the brunette hated beer, he was more the type to order only expensive cocktails.

Well - now he really had to get rid of him too.

Sasuke’s prayers were answered when a vaguely familiar face appeared, almost providentially.

« Suig, he raised his head to follow his friend’s gaze. Isn’t it Karin ?

- Oh, Suigetsu leapt up to his feet. I’ll be right back. »

'Liar,’ thought Sasuke, noticing that his fencing companion had taken the time do disappear with his own mug.

Well, at least Suigetsu had been taking cared of.

« His girlfriend?, asked a surprised Naruto as he looked at the pair in the distance, talking with animation.

- Or his ex, I don’t know. It’s hard to follow.

- Pfff! - the blonde snorted and took another sip - Girls…

- Yeah… »

Sasuke felt like slapping himself. Girls, yeah - as if he knew that sort of things.

Fortunately, Naruto didn’t seem to notice his discomfort and he started to list with great passion the reasons why he preferred beer to any other alcohol.

« And what’s more… Well - without beer… There wouldn’t be beer-pong!, he concluded proudly. »

If the brunette had been listening to his interlocutor’s account with an almost religious attention until then - for fuck’s sake, he was having a drink with Rasengan! - the latter point made him raise an eyebrow.

It was completely stupid.

All you had to do was replace the beer with vodka in the cups.

For a long had he been drinking?

Well - Sasuke chose not to share that last thought with the blond guy. To be fair, he wouldn’t have had the time anyway: Kiba Inuzuka had just arrived at their level and slapped Naruto in the back.

« What are you waiting for ?, the student was out of breath: his cheeks were red and he oozed of transpiration. »

Sasuke wrinkled his nose but once again wisely refrained himself from making a comment.

« I’m coming! Let me finish my drink and… -

- Nah, too late - his friend cut him off. I’m tired, let me rest for a bit… »

The gifted dancer was about to slump on the seat left vacant by Suigetsu when Naruto put his arm forward to block his way.

He looked at his friend up and down :

« Sorry, Kiba, it’s hotties only. »

…

Needless to say, Sasuke was over the moon.

Unfortunately, it was just a joke and Kiba ended up joining them.

**

The next morning, Sasuke woke up with an awful headache. It wasn’t caused by any alcohol abuse (Kiba and Naruto had fought to finish his beer), but by the performance of Radioactive Worms.

Holy crap - Shino.

The latter had ended up shirtless on stage while Naruto had dragged him into what turned out to be their first pogo-dance to the both of them.

The young man stretched out his hand on his bedside table to retrieve his cell phone. It was blinking: a facebook notification.

Menma Namikaze would like to add you to his list of friends.

Rightfully, Sasuke was about to decline the invitation when his pulse quickened: that damn smile - he was just getting to know it too well.

Click.

Sasuke Uchiha now had the honor of counting Rasengan among his Facebook contacts. And in order to celebrate it, he logically began to analyze every single piece of information available.

Menma Namikaze (what the hell was that fake name) had nearly eight hundred friends, was from Uzushio and had entered Konoha as his 'current city’ two weeks earlier. He was born on October 10th and his profile was full of selfies and embarrassing stuff.

But it was his profile picture, in particular, that caught Sasuke’s attention: sunglasses, a straw hat, longer hair, a luscious tan and a cocktail glass in his hand : Kiba’s comment summed it up nicely - ’god, you’re such a poser’ - although the ocean in the background was absolutely breathtaking, the only thing that Sasuke could focus on was the stunning smile on his new contact’s face.

As well as the fact that he was shirtless.

’why’s your name menma now’ - Sasuke was scrolling through the various messages under the publication (almost all of them were trying to make fun of the blond’s selfie) when he stopped on this one.

Excellent question.

Fortunately, Kiba had the perfect answer:

’mister naruto is afraid his fans could find his account’

’yeah, he’s got a big head now that’s what the hat’s for!’

…

Ah.

**

Ting.

That new notification wasn’t from Naruto, but from Rasengan. He had just uploaded a new video and Sasuke, like the dutiful fan he was, closed his spreadsheet to put Youtube in full screen.

« Heyyyy everyone! »

It was much less personal than 'Sasuke’.

« I made that promise long ago, so let’s get back to this cult game! Let’s see if Kyuubi will come first in the agility race this time. »

What the.

Nintendogs.

A video about Nintendogs.

A forty-minute video about Nintendogs.

As strange as it may seem, it was precisely for this kind of thing that Sasuke had started following the video maker. It was impossible to predict what he had in mind and what he was about to do or say. Deep down, as long as Rasengan kept making him laugh, telling crappy jokes and yelling stupidly whenever something took him by surprise, Sasuke didn’t care about what was the video. Rasengan wasn’t necessarily there to please his fans, he was there to have fun.

The first time he had came across his channel, about five years ago, it was by pure chance: Sasuke wanted to buy an indie game that nobody had taken the time to test so he had clicked on the first horrendous orange thumbnail he had seen. At that time, Rasengan wasn’t doing any face-cam and Sasuke would have closed the page if the idiot making the video hadn’t started screaming from the first second. The sound was really saturated, he must have lost some of his hearing that day, but at least the video was in his language.

So he had stayed. And without realizing it - he had started commenting out loud on what the video maker was doing. Criticizing him for not paying enough attention to the the npc, advising him to save before getting into new fights.

Yelling at him to be more careful and to stop rushing into the heap like an fucking moron.

A few days later, he had returned to the then-two thousand subscribers’ page with to see if he had made progress in the story.

The following days, too. But not for the same game.

Still - it had taken him almost two years of weekly visits to subscribe.

Months after, Rasengan had finally agreed to show his face to the camera to celebrate his 10,000 subscribers - and all the comments in that video were still to that day about how cute he looked.

And that was when Sasuke had mysteriously became a very regular viewer.

In the end, the forty minutes of the video went by way too quickly.

[ofsinnersandsaints]

SOMEWHERE TO BELONG

rating: G (for now) word count total: 16,215 chapter: 3/4

ao3

modern au fluff including but not limited to: college!jester, fjord as the hot neighbor, caduceus and beau as the best roommates and jester fulling expecting to fall in love with the guy next door but not realizing it would feel quite like this

A couple of days had passed since Fjord had kissed Jester, and he felt like a damn high schooler, going over it again and again in his head when he was supposed to be doing half a dozen other things.

It seemed unreal to him he’d only known her for a week.

He should ask her out on a proper date, but the information-or lack there of-on his computer screen, was a stark reminder of why he’d held back in the first place.

The drowning, the ship going down, the shipmates who had died in the storm… they were only part of the nightmares and guilt which weighed on him.

The rest of it was Sabian, and Sabian was a ghost.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t an actual ghost as he was somewhere out there in the world not being held accountable for his part in the sinking of the ship they’d both worked on. Instead, he was a metaphorical ghost who had somehow managed to stay below the radar over the course of the past three years.

He should just suck it up and hire a private investigator, but he hesitated to tell anyone about what he’d lived through. About what he suspected. Because what if he was wrong? What if the water in his lungs and lack of oxygen had made him hallucinate and Sabian hadn’t actually jumped off the ship seconds before it exploded?

The vibrating phone was a welcome distraction from the whirlpool of his thoughts, and the smile when he saw who was calling him was instantaneous.

“Hey, Jester.”

“Hey, Fjord.”

He leaned back in his chair and spun it so he was facing away from the computer. He didn’t want the idea of Jester mixed up in the memory of that day. “What can I do ya for?”

“I was wondering if you could take me to the airport?”

Fjord knew she wasn’t running away or leaving town, but his stomach dropped at the question, imagining for a moment his life without her.

Eight days, he reminded himself, he’d only known her for eight days.

“Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?”

“My mom needs me.”

She sounded like she was trying not to cry, “Of course I’ll drive you. When do you head out?”

“Now,” she answered with a sniffle. “I chartered a plane and it’s fueling up now.”

Chartered a plane, he thought with a mental shake of his head. They had very different lives. “I’ll put my shoes on and be over in a minute.”

“Thanks, Fjord.”

“Anytime,” he promised her and hung up. Fjord grabbed his keys and wallet, put his phone in his pocket and started up his truck. When he pulled into Jester’s driveway she was already outside, a bright pink carry-on sitting on the steps next to her.

She stood up and reached for the bag but Fjord was already getting out of the cab of the truck. “I got it, Jester.”

For a moment he thought she was going to argue but then she nodded. “Thanks.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked as he picked up the suitcase, putting it in the back of the cab of the truck. “Is your mama sick?”

Jester climbed onto the bench seat with a heavy sigh. “She’s okay, she just needs to see me.”

Fjord had eight million questions he wanted to ask but kept them to himself. “I assume chartered planes aren’t at the normal airport?”

“No, but I’ve got directions on my phone.” Her smile was genuine, if a little sad, “I’ll be your navigator.”

He debated with himself for all of a second before reaching across the beat up leather and linking his fingers with hers. She held on tight. “When I was under water, it was so dark I couldn’t see which way was up. But I remembered my mentor, Vandran, told me once that if I ever got disoriented under water to not swim. If you let yourself, you’ll float up in the right direction. There was a huge ass storm going on the surface though, the winds were taller than I’d ever see them and every time I got half a breath I’d be pushed under again.”

The memories were so close to the surface he felt his chest tighten, but he kept his eyes on the road as he drove them to the outskirts of town where the private airfield was. “There was water everywhere, so even when I was breathing air it felt like I was drowning. When I have nightmares, when I’m not completely convinced I’m not underwater I go outside because that night, there weren’t any stars. Just rain and waves. I stare at the stars until I can breathe again.”

At the stoplight he looked over at her to see her watching him with wide eyes. “Why did you tell me that?”

“Secret for a secret,” he told her gently. “If you want to share.”

Her shoulders lowered as if someone had just taken a weight off of them. “I didn’t want to go to college but Mama wanted me to get a degree, so the compromise was I’d go to college, but it would be out of state so I could get some independence. It’s been a couple of years now, but the distance hasn’t gotten any easier for her. Sometimes she gets these… moods, I guess? Like a panic attack. She has to see me or she works herself up. She hyperventilated once and the paramedics were called, she woke up in the hospital terrified.”

“Cause she doesn’t like to leave the house,” he remembered.

Jester nodded, holding their linked hands in her lap, her free hand tracing the tiny scars on his knuckles from years of working on a fishing boat. “The best thing to do is just go see her, and flying is quickest, only a couple of hours each way. After a day or two I can usually come back.”

He squeezed her hand once. “I’m sorry, Jester. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“The drive is more than enough,” she assured him. “Beau and Cad are both in class.”

He pulled down the paved road which would lead to the plane hangar. “If you need someone to pick you up when you come back, call me.”

“You’re a really good guy, Fjord.”

“Not really,” he corrected as he parked. “But you’re worth being a good guy for. I’ll get your suitcase.”

Fjord got out of the truck and got her luggage, walking around the hood of the car to where Jester stood in a t-shirt and a soft looking skirt. “Can I have a hug?”

He smiled at the question, setting the suitcase on the ground, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Her hands clung to the back of his shirt as she pressed her cheek into his chest, and he tightened his hold on her, knowing how important an anchor was in a storm.

“Call me when you land? So I know you got there safe?”

She nodded, her face still pressed against the cotton of his shirt. “I’m going to let go of you in a minute, I promise.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “I ain’t in any kind of rush, Jester. You hold on as long as you need.”

She pulled back then, a little glint in her eyes that hinted at the mischief she was capable of. “Be careful what you say, Fjord, I may take you up on it.”

His thumb brushed along the curve of her cheek. “I’m not worried. Promise you’ll call me.”

“I promise,” and she dropped her arms from around him and he kind of missed having her so close. “Thanks again, Fjord.”

“For you? Anytime.”

She kissed him on the cheek then picked up her suitcase and walked towards the plane, the stairs already in place to let her get on.

As he watched, the wind picked up and pulled at her skirts; he thought she looked like something out of movie.

Damn it, he should have kissed her goodbye.

Jested loved her mother more than anything. Marion Lavorre had given her daughter everything, had loved her unconditionally, but as Jester had gotten older what her mother wanted, and what Jester needed, were at odds.

Her mother wanted to keep her close, keep her safe, but Jester wanted to take risks and get lost and learn things the hard way.

The distance had been a blessing for Jester, but she knew it was extremely difficult for her mother, which was why she was willing to drop everything to come home when her mother needed her.

Sitting on the porch, she sketched out an ocean scene as the moon watched from its place in the sky. And as if she’d conjured him with charcoal and paper, her phone lit up with a text message.

It was a picture from Fjord.

The photo was from his side of the yard, looking into hers, and she could see Beau balanced on one leg as Caduceus was focused in his garden, the evening light casting a soft glow on the world and her friends.

He’d sent her a little piece of home.

She called him before she could talk herself out of it. “How did you know exactly what I needed?” she asked before he had the chance to say hello.

“I’m a mind reader,” he teased. “Though I have to admit, there was a little part of me that felt creepy taking a picture of them from my backyard.”

Jester laughed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t do that with anyone else in the neighborhood. They might call the cops on you.”

They were quiet for a moment before Fjord’s voice rumbled through the phone. “Are the skies clear where you’re at?”

“Not a cloud for miles.”

“Here too.”

Same moon, she realized. He was outside, same as her, and they were looking up at the same sky. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Just a little one,” he admitted after a moment. “But it was hot today and the garage is too stuffy to work in right now so I’ve got a beer and a lounge chair.”

“Kool-aid and a sketchbook for me,” she said. “I’m hoping to be back Thursday.”

“Two days,” he said and she liked that he sounded a little despondent at the news.

“Today’s practically over,” she corrected. “And I’ll come back in the afternoon, so it’s only a day.”

He made a small humming noise, “Is your mama doing better?”

“Yeah. She’s been telling me about the autobiography, she’s got some wild stories.”

“I imagine not all of them are stories a daughter wants to hear about her mother.”

Jester laughed, “A few.”

She heard the shifting of movement on his end of the line and then a heavy sigh. “Fuck, Jester. I miss you.”

She laughed again even as her heart grew and thumped heavily in her chest. “Don’t sound too excited about it.”

“I don’t know what to do with it,” he admitted. “Honest to god, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“You don’t have to do anything with it,” she assured him even though she had a couple of ideas. Only a few of them were salacious. “And I’m not in any kind of rush. Just tell me if you’re going to come to my party on Saturday.”

“Uh,” he started and she laughed at how obvious he was, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse.

“It’ll be fun,” she assured him. “But if you don’t want to come, I understand.”

“Jester?” a voice called from the behind her. Looking over her shoulder, Jester saw her mother standing a few feet inside the house in a pretty silk robe. “Who are you talking to?”

“A friend,” Jester evaded, turning her attention back to the man on the phone. “I have to go, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Jessie.”

“Bye, Fjord.”

Jester hung up the phone and shut her sketch book. “Mama, what are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I was talking to my friend,” she evaded. “He’s up at all hours of the night.”

“What kind of friend?” her mom asked, a knowing lilt to her voice.

“A good one,” Jester answered. “One I’m hoping to date.”

“Oh.”

“What are you doing up?” she asked as she got up and walked into the house, shutting the door behind her and locking it.

“I was thirsty, then I heard voices and wanted to see what was going on. Is he a good man?”

Jester remembered what he’d said at the airport, about trying to be one. And only a good man, she thought, would worry about being a good man. “He is.”

“You should bring him home, next time you come back.”

They weren’t anywhere near that place, Jester thought, but she appreciated her mother wanted to meet the man she liked. “I’ll keep that in mind. In the meantime, I think we should both get some sleep.”

Fjord walked across the front yard to the small party gathering at his neighbor’s house; the guests were mostly people in their early 20s, carefree and laughing.

As a man who was nearing thirty and had the weight of an ocean on his shoulders, he felt wildly out of place.

But Jester had personally asked him to come over, so he could suck it up and spend an hour in her world. And because Beau had insisted on picking Jester up, he hadn’t seen her since he’d dropped her off at the airport a couple days ago.

There were at least three dozen people in the house and spilling into the backyard. The first person he recognized was Beau who moved through the crowd like a rock being thrown into a stream. Everyone moved out of her way.

“You came,” he liked that she didn’t sound surprised or anything. It was just a statement of fact. “Want a beer?”

Fjord looked around the house and could practically feel the hormones in the air. “You got anything stronger?”

Her grin was sharp, but friendly despite it. “You speak my language. Come on back, I’ve got a shit ton of options. You work on that boat some more?”

“I do a little bit every day,” he answered and recognized the song playing from the speakers in another room as something he often played in the garage. “Whose playlist is this?”

“Jester’s.” Beau walked up to the counter and pushed someone out of the way so she could reach for the cups and started pouring ingredients into it. “I’ve been told my taste in music sucks and Caduceus’ makes everyone want to take a nap. Here.”

Fjord looked down at the cup. “What is this?”

“A Punch in the Face,” she told him. “It’s my own creation and it’s pretty fucking good, if I do say so myself.”

He took a hesitant sip and it was good, but it also had enough liquor in it to stop an elephant. “Holy shit.”

“And that’s the punch in the face,” she smiled, obviously proud of herself. “Jester’s in the back. Try not to stare.”

“Huh?”

Beau just patted him on the shoulder and walked away.

Baffled, Fjord walked out of the back door and stood on the porch to look for Jester in the small crowd of people.

It took all of a second to find her and Fjord immediately understood Beau’s warning.

He’d seen her in sweats, sundresses, and a bikini, but there was something about the skin tight dress which whispered sex; dark blue and curve hugging, it matched the color of her hair and dipped low to show an enticing amount of cleavage.

She could have been standing in the middle of the yard naked, and it wouldn’t have been half as sexy.

For a second he couldn’t breathe, then she looked at him and her eyes lit up, he’d have sworn it, and he remembered this feeling from his days on the water. At some point you just realized you were along for the ride and he could either go with it or fight it.

And Jester, with the blue hair and ample curves, was a wave he was happy to ride out.

She made excuses to the man with dark red hair that she’d been talking to and walked over to him. “You made it!”

“I couldn’t come up with an excuse that didn’t sound like bullshit,” he confessed and reached out to hug her. Her arms tightened around his waist for a moment before she pulled back, but she didn’t step out his embrace completely as she looked up at him.

“It’s hard to say you can’t make it when you can see the party from your backyard.” She sniffed the cup Fjord held in his hand and winced. “Good thing you don’t have to drive home.”

“I think Beau’s trying to get me drunk.”

“Probably,” Jester agreed, taking his hand in one of hers. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to a few people.”

She took him back over to the group; the guy she’d been talking to was a little disheveled with a couple weeks’ worth of stubble on his jaw, his shirt was at least two sizes too big and even though he was at a party his backpack was on the ground at his feet. The woman next to him was short, green streaks in her dark hair. Age undetermined.

“Caleb, Nott, this is my neighbor Fjord. He’s a ship-builder. Caleb and Nott were in one of my classes last term.”

Fjord shook each of their hands, “Nice to meet you both.”

“You build ships?” Caleb asked, his voice a lilting accent Fjord didn’t immediately recognize.

“No,” he admitted and tried not to focus on the fact Jester was still holding his hand and that Caleb kept glancing down at them. “Jester’s just being kind, I’m building a boat in my garage. I’m formerly a fisherman.”

“Like on TV?” Nott asked, excitement making her voice raise a few pitches at the end of the question.

“Something like that.”

“Nott is going to be a private investigator.”

Fjord was surprised at the news and tried not to seem too interested in the information. “No shit? Like in the movies?”

“Something like that,” she grinned. “I’m pretty good at it.”

“Nott takes a lot of pictures of people doing it,” Jester added helpfully and Fjord nearly spit out his drink. She looked extremely proud of herself.

“Cheaters pay the bills,” Nott agreed sagely. “And people are into kinky shit.”

“Nott,” Caleb scolded. “Perhaps this is not the right place?”

“Where is the right place?” Nott challenged. “I do other stuff too, background checks, finding biological parents, that kind of thing. It’s never dull.”

“You find people?”

“I do.”

Fjord had a dozen questions he wanted to ask: how long did it usually take? How much did it cost? What if the person didn’t want to be found? But instead of asking them he smiled, “You’re probably not a good person to piss off.”

“I’m really not. No secrets can be hidden from me.” Nott’s smile was sharp and a little devious as she leaned forward. “So, what are your secrets?”

“I sold my soul to a sea god in order to survive a shipwreck,” Fjord deadpanned and Jester laughed, Nott reluctantly smiled and their friend Caleb chuckled.

“Yo! Fjord!” Beau yelled and Fjord turned to see her standing on the porch. “How are you at a beer pong?”

“Better on a boat, but I can hold my own.”

“You’re on my team,” she announced and turned around and walked back into the house.

Fjord watched her, amused, “Does she usually just boss people around?”

“Yes,” Jester answered with a smile. “It’s her way of saying she likes you.”

“Sure it is. I guess I’m playing beer pong.”

Considering the party had been thrown together last minute, it was pretty good party if Jester did say so herself. Between her and her roommates they knew a wide range of people from jocks to gardeners, but they all got along. The alcohol probably helped, she thought wryly as she listened to two people from her history class complain about their professor.

While they debated whether it would be better to TP the professor’s car or glue the doors shut Jester felt a touch on her elbow and before she looked, she knew it was Fjord. “Hey, I just wanted to thank you for inviting me.”

“Are you heading out?”

“Yeah.”

Stay, she thought immediately, and wondered at how intense the feeling was. Jester hopped off the table, hoping what she felt didn’t show on her face. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to-“

She shook her head, not letting him finish the sentence. “I insist, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

He smiled at her and nodded. “Who am I to say no to a gentleman?”

“Let me just text Beau,” she picked up her phone and let Beau know where she was going and then dropped the cell in a kitchen drawer. “So she doesn’t bug me with questions.”

“If I was going to murder you, this would be the perfect time.”

“Right after I told her I was leaving the house with you?” she asked with a shake of her head, disappointed. “You’d make a terrible murderer, Fjord.”

“Well, I guess there are worst things to fail at.”

“Good point,” she grabbed his hand because he hadn’t seemed to mind it earlier when she’d done it. She liked the feel of it, his palm and fingers were rough with callouses, warm against her skin. Leading him out the front door, she stepped into the humid night, the stars dim above them.

“Thanks again, for coming tonight.”

“I enjoyed it.”

Jester smiled, bumping her hip against his. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

His mouth curved in a grin. “I like your roommates, and I liked Yasha.”

“Oh!” Jester hadn’t seen Yasha at the house, but the woman was known for sneaking in and out of places. Hopefully she’d still be there when Jester got back. “What did you think of her?”

“That woman could kick my ass.”

He sounded impressed which the proper response to meeting Yasha. “Beau is super into her.”

“I’m not looking to hit on her,” he told her, and there was a careful note to the words, a slight pressure on her hand from his which made Jester’s heart glow behind her ribs.

“Cool.”

They walked in silence and Jester wondered about the front door and what would happen when they got there. If this had been a real date, she’d kiss him at the end of it, but this wasn’t a real date.

He’d just come over to meet her friends, drink, and hang out with her.

But he’d admitting to missing her while she was gone.

Was every relationship this difficult? she wondered, or were they just bad at it? If her mother hadn’t been so protective, maybe she’d have more experience with this kind of thing and she wouldn’t be second guessing herself at every turn.

If, should-of, would-of… they weren’t going to do her a lot of good in the here and now.

“I started your painting this morning.”

“Oh yeah?” he looked pleased and a little bashful. “How long does it usually take for you to paint something?”

“Not as long as it takes to build a boat,” she teased as they walked across his yard. “Mostly it depends on the painting. Does it have a lot of detail? Lots of colors? I’d get a lot more done if I didn’t have to go to school.”

“Have you given any more thought to sticking it out?”

“Yeah, I’m going to stay.” He stopped in front of his porch but she went up the steps and turned so she was almost eye to eye with him. “If I dropped out, my mama would want me to come back home and I don’t want to leave.”

Didn’t want to leave her house, her independence, this porch where she could just barely smell the aftershave Fjord must have put on before coming over.

“Are you going to kiss me again, Fjord?”

He wasn’t even a little bit surprised by the question. Jester was the kind of person who took what she wanted, or asked for it as the case may be. And damn him if he hadn’t been considering it the whole walk over.

“I’m thinking about it,” he finally answered.

She tilted her head, blue hair touching her cheek the way he wanted to. “What’s stopping you?”

Fjord sighed and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’m a hell of a mess, Jester. I don’t want to invite all my shit on you.”

Her smile was soft and warm and he thought he could live by it for the rest of his life and the thought terrified him because of how much he wanted it. “I invited myself over, Fjord.”

She took a step down so she was a little bit closer and he felt his stomach drop; it reminded him of when the ship would crest on a wave and dip down suddenly. It was an addicting kind of rush a person never quite got used to.

Jester put one hand on the side of his face and he wondered if maybe she was going to take the matter out of his hands and kiss him herself. Instead she only pressed her lips to his cheek, the touch lingering for a full second and a half before pulling back.

“But I don’t want to push, so just know I’m here whenever you want to find me.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her close and knew he was ten kinds of stupid for not kissing her. She felt good against him, she felt right and he felt right, but there was still that dark fear so deeply rooted inside him he didn’t know how to get rid of it.

“You know it’s not you, right, Jester? There’s not a damn thing wrong with you.”

She rested her hands on his shoulders, her fingers brushing the fabric smooth. “There’s plenty wrong with me,” she argued cheerfully. “Just like there’s plenty wrong with you. That shouldn’t stop you from trying to be happy with the things that are right. And this is right, Fjord. You know that, don’t you?”

He loved how certain she was. “Yeah, I’m starting to figure it out.”

“Well, when you get the rest of the way there you know where I am. I should probably get home and make sure the house is still standing. Caleb has been known to start fires when he drinks too much and Beau thinks it’s too cool to try and stop it.”

He smiled, easily picturing it. “Good night, Jester.”

“Good night, Fjord.”

Fjord finally let her go, then watched her walk into the darkness and wondered how many different kinds of stupid one man can be.

Jester couldn’t sleep.

Normally, this wasn’t a problem. Normally, she’d paint or sketch until she could finally pass out, but she felt too restless in her own skin. If she was at her mother’s house she’d go swimming in the big pool out back, but they blowup kiddie pool in her backyard wouldn’t do her much good.

Making a quick decision she grabbed her phone and walked next door, figuring there was a better than good chance Fjord was up as well.

She wouldn’t say they’d been avoiding each other, but ever since Saturday Jester had made a point to give Fjord some space. He’d texted her over the course of the past few days, sending her pictures he’d taken and she had complained to him about finals coming up.

But they hadn’t spent any time alone.

Jester didn’t completely trust herself not to jump him, but at one am there weren’t a lot of options for company.

She knocked on the doorframe, smiling when she saw Fjord pop up from behind the boat. “Hey.”

“Hi, do you mind if I hang out?”

“Not at all. Everything okay?”

“I’m antsy,” she admitted with a shrug. “Couldn’t sleep. You’ve gotten a lot done.”

The boat had more shape to it now, it looked like some kind of seal had been added and the smell in the air was pungent. “You’re going to get high off these fumes, Fjord.”

He grinned. “There’s a good chance I already am. I’ve been at this for a bit.”

“Oh.” She looked around the garage, not sure what to look at it. “If you’re done, I can just-“

“Want to watch a movie?” he asked.

Her gaze swung to him and there was understanding in his eyes, in the softness of his expression. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Do you have a preference?”

“Have you seen Princess Bride?”

“Who hasn’t? I’ll make some popcorn, do you mind shutting the door so animals don’t get in?”

She shut the door and then promptly opened the window before following him inside the house. Jester sat on the table as he rummaged through the cabinets and eventually pulled out a box of popcorn, sticking it in the microwave.

“Thirsty?” he asked, reaching into the fridge.

“Sure, if you’ve got-“ she stopped when he pulled out a pitcher of a bright red drink. “You made Kool-Aid?”

She saw a little bit of a blush on his cheeks. “I didn’t know what flavor you liked.”

“I like all the flavors,” she assured him, touched he’d cared enough to not only buy Kool-Aid, but that he’d made it on the off chance she might come by. It was hardly the most romantic thing anyone had ever done, but her poor little heart tripped and fell half in the love with him anyway.

She took the cup he offered and watched as he got himself a soda from the fridge as the microwave beeped. “This is my best talent,” he told her seriously as he opened the door. “I never burn popcorn.”

Jester laughed as he shook the bag and she could hear how many kernels had popped, “That’s the best superpower.”

“It’s handy,” he took his soda and the popcorn and she followed him into the living room. He sat at the end of couch and Jester sat directly next to him, close enough their hips touched. “Will you grab the remote?”

She reached forward and traded the popcorn for the remote control, “My mama calls it a clicker.”

“No offense to your mama, but that’s dumb.”

Jester laughed and rested against him; unable to help the smile as he shifted next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He turned on the tv and then flipped through to a steaming site where he found Princess Bride available.

“How long has it been since you’ve watched this movie?” she asked as she reached into the popcorn bag.

“Couple of years,” he answered as he shifted on the couch to get more comfortable. “I remember rodents of extraordinary size. And of course Inigo Montoya.”

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes as the movie started, and Jester felt the nervousness begin to ease with the slow breathing of Fjord next to her, his arm around her. She felt safe.

“Thanks for letting me hang out, Fjord.”

“Yeah, sitting with a beautiful woman in the middle of the night watching a movie and eating popcorn is a huge hassle.”

She laughed and snuggled closer to him; he may not be ready for the dating or whatever, but he seemed to be okay with this, so for now she’d take it. After all, it couldn’t hurt to show them how good they’d be together, could it?

“Did something in particular happen?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she sighed, keeping her eyes on the tv. “I think my brain is just too full.”

“I get that. If you need anything else, you’ll let me know?”

She shifted so she could look at him, meeting his eyes in the flickering light from the television. “Right now, this is all I need.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his lips quirking in a little smile. “I’m starting to think the same.”

Jester smiled, understanding what he was saying. She curled her legs underneath her, wrapping her own arms around his middle so she could rest against him. “This is my favorite movie all time.”

She felt the rumble of his laughter in his chest. “I’m not even a little bit surprised.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“Independence Day,” he answered without hesitating.

“I never would have guessed that.”

Jester felt him shrug. “How can you go wrong with Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum?”

“Fair point. We can watch that movie next.”

“You’re not going to want to go home?” he asked, a little bit surprised.

“I’m good here. Unless you want to go to bed after this movie’s done.”

“Nah, I can sleep later.”

“I want you to know this doesn’t count as a date.”

Fjord laughed, big and loud and it made Jester smile. “Duly noted.”

She moved again so she could look at him. “When we go on a date, I expect you to pick me up-"

"I'm a good 'ole boy," he reminded her, soundly a little offended. "Of course I'd pick a lady up at her door."

She smiled and accept the point with a nod, but continued talking as if he hadn't interrupted her. "And take me out to a place with really good food, and I expect dessert afterwards.”

“Dessert?” he asked, his voice low and all kinds of suggestive.

It was Jester’s turn to blush, but she was certain he wouldn’t be able to see in the dark room. “Ice cream,” she clarified, forcing herself not to look away. “Cake. Pie. I’d settle for really good chocolate. Then sex.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying her. “It’s good to know you have your priorities in order.”

“Sweets always come before sex,” she told him earnestly. “Now, no more talking, I’m trying to watch a movie.”

Fjord snorted and took the popcorn bag from her. “I’ll start it over so you can enjoy it properly.”

“You really get me,” she grinned and settled in to spend the rest of the night with the guy she was pretty sure she was going to marry someday.

If only he would get around to kissing her again.

[lunaraen]

"We don't have to talk about it, but when you're ready... I'm here." with Radar trying to help out Aiden when he moves back to Beacontown?

Radar likes sunrises more thansunsets. Sunsets promise darkness and the looming need to sleep that'll end upgetting ignored about as long as he can ignore it, while sunrises promise fullnew days to continue what he knows and to experience different things and meetnew people.

But for every sunrise there's asunset, and he's not the only one feeling melancholy tonight.

There's only a little shame inadmitting to himself that he's focusing so much on the view so he won't have tofocus on Aiden's next sigh, the latest in a string of far too many.

Beacontown doesn't quietly slipoff into the darkness of night, hasn't in all the time Radar's worked here andeven before then, and it lights up in a different way once the sun sinks lowand the moon soars high. The maintained protections for people's creativitywhen building means there are a lot of different designs, but so much of thecity glows even at sunset.

Even the calmer districts andareas tend to have a number of sea lanterns and blocks of glowstone, gentle, in comparisonto the multicolored beacons and the beams reaching to the clouds at the center of the city, but still lit.

It makes the city that much saferwhen the sun can't protect them from mobs and it all looks stunning, chill bluesand warmer golden glows mixing together nicely and spiced up by the glowstinted by colored glass, the cooler neons of the night almost a trademark ofthe busier areas. It's impossible to see the intricate designs many of thelanterns have from here, but their smaller glows and tinted glass help theshops stand out.

It's another part of Beacontown'scharm. 

Even when close up detail isn't available, it stands tall, beautiful, andsafe, radiating life and warmth as far and as loudly as it can.

(He can even see the glassencased lines of lava surrounding Ivor’s home, tubes of orange snaking theirway to the ground, the skull house itself used more for storage now thanliving, given Ivor’s well used room and lab in the temple.)

Radar might not like sunsets asmuch as sunrises, but he still likes them. It's hard to dislike something sopretty.

Night, as pretty as it is, hasfar more hate-able features, like wandering seas of monsters and bloodthirstycreatures, and it still brings sleep, serene moonlight nights, and skies full ofglittering stars.

He doesn't even hate night.

(It used to be his favorite timeof day, once, when he slept more often, probably more reasonably. Even when hewas being worked to the bone under Stella, he looked forward to sleeping assoon as he could, as soon as the quill was down and the paperwork finished.

Dreaming was his favorite thing,when he could be anybody and anywhere, before it became another distraction,another problem demanding attention and time.)

The hill is plainer, almostunremarkable save for the view it gives them and the way the city's colorsreflect off the grass, muted and soft.

It's like a beacon of peace.

Or loneliness.

(Radar needs to leave the poetryto Lukas.)

Beacon of everything or nothing,or both, it's treated all the same by Aiden, fingers plucking at some of thepurple-tinted blades of grass and one hand curling into the loose soil. His jawkeeps clenching and unclenching, and the fingers digging into the dirt mimicthe motion.

It's been a bad day.

(Maybe a bad week, or even amonth. Aiden's been more melancholy than usual lately, just a bit morewithdrawn and snarky, and there's no real telling how long he's been feelingdown.)

And Aiden stares.

He stares down at the city, atthe lights and the milling people, the same way Petra eyes an encroachingmonster horde or the way Ivor monitors a notoriously tricky potion.

There's a hunger in his eyes, a want, tempered by experience andexpectations.

They've been here before, whenRadar was first tasked with giving Aiden a tour of Beacontown and Aiden wasonly hesitantly trusted (and trusted at all much more by Jesse than by Lukas)to not try and pull anything. It was almost an entire season ago.

The walk here was meant to berelaxing, meant to be a chance for Aiden to vent, and he's just as relaxed asRadar is.

Radar, for the record, is notrelaxed in the slightest, doing his best to keep from rapid-fire tapping hisfoot against the ground while his fingers card through his hair in an almostfrantic manner and his mind keeps returning to reminders of paperwork stillunfinished and projects that need more attention.

He needs to diffuse thesituation, whatever it is, for both their sakes, to be a good friend and alsoto keep each of them from spiraling in silence.

(Having a panic attack on anondescript hill outside of town isn't what either of them needs.)

Radar almost rests a hand onAiden's shoulder before thinking better of it, hand instead resting on his own kneeas he sits cross-legged beside Aiden and foot tapping quietly against thegrass. From this angle, he can see the bottoms of his shoes are temporarilygrass stained, tinged green.

"We don't have to talk aboutit, but when you're ready... I'm here."

There's no real ideal or expectedresponse to that. Radar's ready to respect his answer, whether he spillseverything now, lets Radar know he's not ready now and may never be, or giveshim the silent treatment.

Aiden stays quiet just longenough for Radar to begin to suspect he's going with the third option.

"...there's not a lot todiscuss." The answer is as unfortunately unhelpful as expected and feared.The follow up helps only incrementally. "You've read Lukas's book– everybody here has. You already know what happened."

Trauma isn't easily coped withafter years of stewing and barely a season of healing. Guilt is just as hard.

And Radar is officially trainedfor none of this, though he's had plenty of unofficial on the job trainingthanks to the mountains of trauma trailing behind and hidden by the Order.

"And it's been kind ofterrifying, I won't lie. Knowing you did those things and that Jesse stillwanted you to come here, and live with us." Radar swallows, hoping itisn't as terribly loud as he thinks. More importantly, he worries this is justmaking Aiden feel worse, and Aiden doesn't look much more comforted by theadmission. "But Lukas doesn't seem to know much about what happened to youafter that, after you first got to Sky City, and he definitely never publishedanything on it. He changed your names for a reason."

Different names kept their livesfrom being any more stressful or rough upon returning to their own world, andkept Radar from knowing exactly who Aiden was or what relevance he had to Lukasand Jesse until they'd decided to clue him in.

Beyond the Order and the BlazeRods themselves, and him, no one knows the connection between the old Ocelotsand the harrowing Sky City adventure.

The only reaction Radar's seenfirsthand is the occasional surprise and excitement that Aiden, Maya, and Gillare back, having been gone so long but still being known for their fantasticand award winning building skills, and none of them have reported any harsherinteractions.

"Yeah, well, all theexciting stuff ended pretty much when the Order left. What you read was allthat was worth reading." It's hard for Radar, sometimes, to see Aiden asthe monster from Lukas's retelling. He thinks whatever personal growth Aidenhad before writing his letter to Jesse would be much more interesting to read,more enlightening and less horrifying. "Gill got slammed, once, with abrick. He was bleeding pretty bad– he's lucky it only ended up leaving him aconcussion. We're lucky."

"...you aren't worried aboutanyone here doing something like that, are you?"

Aiden says nothing.

He almost speaks, for a moment,mouth opening before it shuts and he shrugs, looking away from Radar. His nosescrunches slightly as he gives a hollow half-grin, a tired huff, his fingersbrushing his hair back and only almost getting tangled in it.

The Yeah, I mean, come on goes unspoken, and Radar has to swallow again.

The paranoia's understandable,and it's terrifying.

And Radar has always protectedhimself with knowledge in the face of terror, when he has no shield to bash,because sometimes it feels cowardly but it's comforting in the end to knowthings will likely turn out okay and how, because Jesse almost never fails andgets up every rare time she does.

"There are few areas in townas well protected as the temple, and people here don't have the same connectionto what happened as people who actually lived in Sky City. You can always goback to living with us if you don't feel safe." Aiden's shoulders hunch,and Radar has the dismal realization that he's not helping yet, too blunt ortoo intense in his desire to help fix everything. He forces any dismay at thisrealization out of his voice, letting it relax as he also forces himself tobreathe. "If anyone here has a problem, all they have to do is see that theOrder's already forgiven you guys. It's done, it's over, and the Order wouldn'thave you living here if they didn't trust you."

The look Aiden levels him isalmost blank, unamused and flat before he raises an eyebrow.

"They kept Cassie."

(Okay, so that's one other personwho knows their actual involvement in Sky City.)

"Who's been making her ownprogress!" Aiden's expression doesn't change much, while Radar's wilts."I don't think she's murdered anybody recently."

Aiden snorts, his bangs fallinginto his eyes as he shakes his head.

"Right, there are just giantrats and disappearing spider colonies actually mutilating bodies in those cavespeople keep somehow wandering into. That might fool a couple of reporters, butI don't think it's really got the press duped either. Not all the way."

It definitely doesn't fool Radar,if only because he's sat in on a number of conversations about Cassie's meansof disposal.

As much as they could beconversations, with Cassie disregarding them.

And while Aiden hasn't sat in on anyof those yet, he's smart enough to have figured it out, especially when everynamed body, the few not mutilated past the point of recognition, ends up linkedto some plot to overthrow or harm the Order.

And he's smart enough to knowRadar knows better too.

"I don't think she'smurdered anybody who didn't have it coming?"

Maybe letting Cassie into theirlives, their home and headquarters, was a questionable decision, but it wasJesse's, and Cassie defends herself by pointing out that she only attacks peoplewho she has good reason to believe are a serious danger to the Order orBeacontown.

Her "interventions" arerare and occasional enough, not to mention helpful. The shadier parts of BadLuck Alley are understandably more fearful, more cautious, and Radar thinksthey're all the better for it.

(He's admittedly not much of afan of Bad Luck Alley, as much as he likes Jack and Nurm, because people living"off the grid" more often than not seem to think they're above orbelow the rules enough to not worry about them, and that includes basic stufflike "please don't try to overthrow the Order that saved the worldmultiple times". This way, no matter why they're pulling that kind ofstuff less, they're safer from Cassie.)

It comes down to Jesse being really nice to a lot of people in waysRadar doesn't understand and in ways he's kind of okay with neverunderstanding.

He doesn't understand it any morethan how he understands why Jesse's good with forgiving him for his occasionalslip ups and lost forms even when it costs them so much time and stress.Jesse's done so much for so many people, and if she wants to do more, who'sgoing to stop her?

(There should probably be adifference between her forgiving him for screwing up on the job and activelytaking serial killers and old tormentors into their temple, but it's Jesse. She knows what she's doing.Well enough to somehow pull it all off, anyway.)

And he's right, but that's notthe right thing to say. Not with how Aiden tenses up, eyeing him more critically before relaxing his hands.

Radar isn't sure when they curledinto fists in the first place.

"Would I have it coming?Would Maya? Would Gill?" Radar doesn't have a good answer, and Aiden knowsit. He doesn't pause long, gaze drawn to the scarlet sunlight bouncing andshimmering off the rooftops and windows of Beacontown. "If you didn't knowus, only knew we tried to kill the Order, that I tried to kill Jesse, and Cassie thought we were some kindof threat? Would it be okay then?"

Heck of a question to ask.

(Radar's first thought is thatAiden is perhaps unfairly charitable towards Maya and Gill, happy as Radar iswith all of their progress, and that Maya and Gill don't view themselves theway Aiden does and actually kind of hate it when he blames himself foreverything that happened.

They've made it clear they're asguilty as he is, not more and not less.

But he doesn't want Aiden, with abad history of being angry near edges, to nudge him off the cliff here and now,and he doesn't want him to storm away, so Radar doesn't bring it up.)

"...morals are hard whereCassie's concerned."

Aiden's look softens, half-smilehumorless before he sighs.

"Yeah, I get that. And Idon't know if I can really blame her for it. But... the idea that some peopleearn that kind of stuff, getting attacked, because they're suspicious enough ordid bad enough things before is what got us so much hell in New Sky City. Gillgot more than just a brick chucked at his head, you know."

He knows.

"...sorry."

"Nah. Don't– don't worryabout it. It's just– everybody thinks they're doing the right thing. Even ifthey're throwing junk at people's heads, or attacking them from shady cornersand dark alleys, or burning cities to the ground."

It's a good thing Aiden doesn'tsmoke or drink, because he looks ready for either, and Radar isn't planning ondriving him further down that path.

"We try to avoid doing thatsort of thing here. It's not really good for making people feel safe, and itjust kills tourism."

It doesn't quite get a laugh outof Aiden, but the snort sounds amused.

"Smart."

"...do you feel like you'redoing the right thing?" Radar doesn't mean to contribute to Aiden'scrisis, or whatever it is that he's exactly grappling with, which might just bea moral dilemma topped with trauma. He just gets the feeling that he is, andAiden's guarded look prompts him to clarify. "Now that you're here?"

Maybe that's not the point.

Maybe he's missing something.

Maybe Aiden doesn't even know,stuck in the past and still clawing his way into the future.

"Hell of a lot better thanwhere we were." Aiden shrugs, tilting his head to the side as he looksaway from Radar and up at the gathering wispy clouds above them. "...itfeels too good and I'm scared of messing it up. Jesse trusting us doesn't meananything– sure, it's nice and all, but she's Jesse. Cassie offers protection, but Jesse took in Romeo too–and she pretty much has to teachhim how to be human again. Us being here doesn't make it all better, doesn'tmake us seem like anything other than scumbags she's feeling sorry for. I don'tactually have to worry about walking on eggshells around her, but I'm halfafraid she's going to wake up and realize she has no reason to trust us, orthat we're a threat to her city and her people. There were no powers to takefrom us, no fancy gauntlet to guarantee everyone’s safety."

(Radar might still not fullyunderstand the story, but it sounds to him like they lost plenty of power whenAiden tried to kill Jesse and she came back, when she had him at sword pointand spared him.)

It's complicated.

Radar knows from experience thatthings that are complicated tend toultimately just be good fuel for thinking in circles.

He's no Jesse, but he'll have todo.

"You're not a threat–you're getting a second chance, doing your best with it, and Jesse knows it.And if you're worried about other people seeing you that way, then you'll justhave to show them that you're not taking it for granted, that you are trying tomake it better." Radar dusts off the knees of his pants as he stands,shrugging as he picks a bit of fuzz off his vest. "We've seen a lot ofweird things here. Even if everybody knew who you were, what you really did, Idon't think it'd shake or bother too many people. You're not hiding here– you're making amends."

"It's probably not a goodidea to just shout it out, anyway."

"Probably not." Theidea of Aiden doing that, running down the streets and just snapping from thepressure, isn't realistic. It still gets a smile out of Radar. "But Idon't think you were planning on that– or bringing it up at work for fun. Itdoesn't sound like great lunch break small talk."

What Aiden talks with hiscoworkers about is his business, but bringing up past failed attempts to murderOrder members or an entire city hardly seems his style. However justified hisparanoia is or isn't, for himself and for Maya and Gill, he's careful and smartenough to take care of himself and not test Radar's theory over how badlypeople might react. Aiden's history as an award winning builder sounds likesomething he'd be more likely to bring up at work or get ribbed for.

"Not really."

Jesse's secret, Radar suspects,is that she's too good at forgiving others because she knows they need help.

It's not out of any ignorance, orblind hope that they'll get better, but the sheer determination that they can be better people and that she can helpthem do less damage, be less cruel to others and themselves, while working outwhat they want their lives to be. It works well enough, from what he's seen,and few worlds will complain about having less serial killers and megalomaniacsto worry about.

Jesse has that sort of inspiringeffect on people.

There's no reason Radar can'thelp with the healing process, and Aiden doesn't scare him the way Cassie does.

"You know, you can spend thenight at the temple with us." It's been a while since Aiden's stayed longwith the Order, visiting regularly after moving into his own place nearby butvisits rarely going over an hour at a time. Walks around town like this havebeen only a bit more common and a smidgen longer. "Ivor makes pretty goodhot chocolate."

"Is there anybody that triedto personally kill Jesse who didn't end up forgiven?"

"I mean, a couple, but it's ashort list." One was an evil supercomputer, and two others werepower-happy maniacs who didn't know when to ask for forgiveness from someonewho's nearly an endless well of it. "And that's not an answer."

It might be because of hispersonal experience, or lack thereof, with them, but Radar thinks he likesAiden much better.

"Sure. Let's go get cavitiesor sugar crashes or whatever that stuff will give us."

In Radar's experience, Ivor's hotcocoa is great for getting good rest, helped by the right amount of sleepingpotion mixed into it, and he knows that the last time Aiden tried it, he endedup taking an impromptu several-hour nap on their couch.

A repeat performance might not benecessary, but it's probably tempting.

Besides, if Radar actually endsup getting to sleep at a reasonable time tonight, he's taking Aiden with him.

[iblue-kitzune]

Of Rising Calamities Beyond the Cosmos: Chapter 8

A/N: I would like to thank the following people @iamartemisday , @therealstartraveller776 , and @queencfthestarsdrfoster for some of the ideas and/or quotes they had in mind that I thought were pretty incredible! I couldn’t pass up the opportunity, so I took the chance and implemented them in here. Most of the credit goes to them.

And if you have the time to spare, please consider checking these guys out! They’re really awesome people and make some good writing content!

Now without further ado, please enjoy the chapter!

Nero and the others had nothing to say as they watched the scene below on the island from their spot on Rayquaza’s back, and absentmindedly nodded at Celebi’s decision to go down on the island and meet up with Kagome and all of the regular pokemon with her, which she did the second the battle had started.

‘This is so unreal.’

There was hardly anything to be said for this fight considering some of the negatives in this situation—like the fact that a former enemy they’d thought long dead with the majority of Asgard was alive and fighting by their friend’s side, who looked like she’d been through hell and back from the poison that was still swimming around in her body, against a mythical pokemon being controlled by another enemy of theirs that just refuses to stay away from them. 

And they were just about as stubborn as the Leader of the Dark Elves and his Lieutenant were —who they ran into some time last year— when it came to surviving. Even though their master and the majority of the Chitauri army had perished and even though the rest of their race had been obliterated off the face of the universe, these lot—these six: Ebony Maw, Cull Obsidian, Proxima Midnight, Corvus Glaive, Malekith, and Algrim just refuse to die.

‘They’re like fucking cockroaches in a damn sense. It’s ridiculous!’ Nero mused as he saw Jane and Loki dodge the mind-controlled Victini’s double Thunder Punch attacks. But he winced out loud with the other six when the pokemon merely erupted into hot white-blue flames and rammed into the two, making them drop with their weapons, which disappeared seconds later.

“Shoot! That was Flare Blitz wasn’t it?” the devil hunter heard Alvin asked as Jane and Loki were thrown hard into the ground, flinging up a cloud of dirt and dust in their wake. 

Jane, for the most part, was fine. Just a couple of dirt stains and scratches she received from the brutal landing.

“{Yes...}” came Rayquaza’s reply. “{And it was a powerful one at that. I’m suspecting that he’s using his ability to his full advantage.}”

Loki on the other hand…

“Aaaaahhhh!”

“Oh no!” Elize cried in shock, and all of them watched in horror as the trickster god’s body burst into flames, burning not only him but some parts of his clothes off as he fell on his knees in agony. “He’s been burned!”

“{That’s unfortunately the ten percent chance of being burnt from the attack kicking in. And despite how low that is, I guess this guy just got unlucky.}”

“++Superpower!++”

“What the—” Nero and the others blinked in surprise when the injured figure of Zeraora came out of nowhere to intercept Jane from running over to Loki’s side and punched her in the side with a glowing golden colored fist, sending the woman flying into a nearby boulder. “Where did Zeraora come from? And how is he still standing after all this time?!”

“[As much as I’d hate to admit it, that would be my fault.]”

“[And here I thought I could count on you, Raiden. What a shame...]”

“[Just shut up Gale. I’m not in the mood.]”

Rayquaza and the group looked up to see an extremely tall humanoid griffin spirit with spiky hair and red eyes appear in front of them, and a humanoid cabbit spirit around the same height with long wavy hair and silver eyes materialized a few feet away from his companion.

Jude’s eyes lit up at the sight of the two spirits and said, “You two are the Great Spirits of Lightning and Wind...” but then he narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

Without looking away from the fight, Gale answered the human. “[Tony told us to follow you and check up on Jane’s condition. But once we arrived here, we spotted Lugia, Kyogre, and Manaphy having trouble with the mind-controlled Marshadow and Zeraora, and Raiden volunteered to take care of them and while I headed over here. Speaking of which…]” he looked over to the Great Lightning Spirit out of the corner of his eye, and before he could open his mouth, Raiden gave him a small glare.

“[My lightning attacks became useless the moment Zeraora decided to jump in and take the hits for Marshadow then absorb them with his ability to heal himself. Thankfully, all of us managed to knock the little one out and destroy the device on his head, but that damn cat managed to sneak one last Plasma Fists in and knock the three out before heading over here.]”

Gale frowned. “[And where’s Marshadow at?]”

“[I sent a clone to drop him off at Tony’s mansion to be taken care of later,]” Raiden replied. “[And before you ask about Kyogre, Lugia, and Manaphy, I healed them with the items I had on my person. After coming to, they went back home stating that the rest of us can take care of the situation on the island.]”

“They must’ve been completely exhausted then to not have offer their assistance,” Nero said.

“Yeah,” the ladies and Teepo said in unison.

Gale turned back to the fight just in time to see Jane finally get up and engage in battle with Zeraora with a flurry of punches and kicks —Close Combat from the pokemon and fiery fists and feet from the half-spirit respectively—, and see Victini slowly approach the raven haired god getting to his feet.

“[Do you happen to have any healing bottles or gels and other miscellaneous items left? Preferably a stack of them?]” he suddenly asked. 

Raiden looked at him, and understood what he was getting at. “[Yes I do,]” he answered while pulling out a big pouch from seemingly out of nowhere, “[Here!]” and tossing it over to Gale.

The Great Spirit of Wind caught the pouch.

“[Thanks! You guys wait here for Sota and the others!]” he commanded before flying down to the fight. “[I’ll be back soon!]”

Lady sighed. 

“You know, I hate to say it, but maybe it’s a good thing we’re not fighting after all because I’m pretty sure none of us would last very long down there. Not after yesterday’s battle we still haven’t recovered from. And, especially, not after that insane Wild Charge we took the full brute force of from Zeraora earlier. We really dodged a bullet from almost getting knocked out and drowning in the water back there.”

Her friends and Rayquaza nodded in agreement miserably while Raiden gave them a look, and sighed something unintelligible under his breath.

                                            XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He didn’t think it would hurt this much, being subjugated to fire like this. There was just so much pain, and so much heat surrounding him. He could hardly stand it. But no! He wasn’t going to give up. 

Not out here he wasn’t! 

‘No... I will not...’

The God of Mischief may have submitted in the past—for reasons and for his plan to succeed, but he wasn’t going to start now. 

Not this time!

‘C’mon Loki! You got this!’

So with every ounce of strength he had, Loki slowly got to his feet, sucking in a few deep breaths every time the waves of pain washed over him. The raven haired god hunched over, droplets of sweat running down his face and dripping onto the ground as he panted in exhaustion. 

“Sorry Ebony Maw, but you’re not going to get rid of me that easily,” he glared at the approaching pokemon from underneath the hair plastered on his forehead, his green eyes flashing red once again as he stood up to his full six-foot-two height. ‘Oh? So this is temporary huh?’ he mused, sighing when he felt the flames disappear. 

“++It appears that way, Liesmith...++” Victini stopped short just seven feet away from him and used Double Team to surround the raven haired god. “++But you won’t last much longer against my fire now that you don’t have the protection of your armor and clothing anymore.++”

Loki’s eyebrows dipped a bit in confusion. ‘What is he going on about now—oh...’ he looked down and paused. 

The armor covering his upper body along with his sleeveless vest, sleeveless jacket, and under long sleeved jacket were completely gone. The only thing he was left standing in was his burnt tunic, which had a few holes in it, burnt pants, leather armor braces, and boots, both which had a few scorched marks on them. 

“++Now do you see, Liesmith? You’re vulnerable.++”

“And we’ll see how vulnerable you are once I’m through with you!” Loki glared hotly at the haughty pokemon who was preparing another Fire Blast.

“++We?++” he echoed, questioning the suspicious smirk climbing on the god’s lips.

WHOOSH!

Hearing a sound behind him, Victini turned around only to get knocked to the ground with Zeraora thrown on top of him.

“I was beginning to think you collapsed on me, Jane,” Loki said when the young woman took out all of the clones in fell swoop and appeared next to him, covered in scratches.

“Same...to...y...you,” she panted through half-lidded eyes, noticing the slight look of concern on Loki’s face as he turned to her. “I’m fine. It’s just the poison acting up again,” she stubbornly reassured him.

Deciding to not to comment any further or argue with her, he turned back around to see the two pokemon get up. Then without a word, the raven haired god grabbed Jane by the waist and teleported them behind the pokemon to dodge the Superpower and Thunder Punch.

Unfortunately for them, Victini anticipated that. He turned around and immediately fired a Fire Blast, faster than the last one, at the Loki. “++Go!++” he shouted when Jane flashed in front of the trickster god, ready to take the hit. 

Zeraora smirked and used his insane speed to zip in front of the surprised half-spirit and trip her with Low Kick before zipping right out of Fire Blast’s range just as it soared over Jane’s head and crashed right into Loki.

“Loki! Jane!”

“++Excellent work!++” Victini laughed when Zeraora landed next to him, watching the flames the flames engulf the woman and the god.

                                            XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jane opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was a green barrier surrounding Loki; however, with her keen eyes, she was able to spot how much he was struggling to keep it up. “Oh no...” she uttered when his barrier broke, and he collapsed to his knees in exhaustion. “Loki!” Jane tried getting up, but to her horror, she found that she couldn’t move at all.

Ba...bump...

"Oh for the love of—You’ve got to be kidding me! The damn flinch from Low Kick!” Jane cursed under her breath.

Ba...bump...

‘...Come...on...b...ody...’ the god chanted to himself as he struggled to move with how exhausted, injured, and low on seidr he was. It was a miracle he was still conscious at this point.

Ba...bump... 

“++I think I’ll finish you off first, Reality Stonewielder.++”

Ba...bump...

‘Get...up...’ he commanded his body to move.

Ba...bump... Ba...bump...

“What the...” Jane looked up with a strained growl to see Victini enter the ring of fire with an orange-white glow around him. “...Shit...”

Ba...bump...

‘Don’t just sit...there... Move...!’ he commanded again.

Ba...bump... Ba...bump...

Ba...bump... Ba...bump... Ba...bump...

“++Reversal!++” Victini charged at the defenseless half-spirit with a glint of glee and victory in his red eyes.

Ba...bump...

‘No!’  

A low and guttural growl came from the God of Mischief as his eyes snapped wide open, his green irises bleeding into a rich ruby red color while his sclera turned a lighter shade of red, and his teeth lengthened into sharp canines.

“Leave her alone!”

Without warning, Loki shot up and roared into the heavens, a sudden bubble of green energy bursting free from his body. The force of his aura and remaining seidr caused a gust of wind to appear. It was so powerful that it even knocked Victini back a bit and cleared away the whirlpool of fire surrounding them.

But he wasn’t done just yet!

‘What the...!’ Jane gasped, watching how the remains of Loki’s tunic and braces burned away to reveal fair skin turning blue with ridges and some kind of rune marking crawling all over his bare chest and face. ‘Loki?’ she blinked in wide-eyed surprise when he teleported in front of her just as Victini was coming back, raised his blue rune covered arm up, and with a flick of his wrist, the God of Mischief expertly sent a trail of crystallized pillars towards the pokemon at high speed.

Victini flinched back in shock and quickly dove to the side, wincing in pain when the ice clipped him in the knees. He let the attack pass him and...

“++No!++” he shouted half in shock and half in anger when the ice struck Zeraora dead on, freezing him solid from shoulder-to-hind paw. “++Damn you Jotun Runt!++” he turned back to the newly turned god with a seething glare.

‘Whoa...’ Jane blinked again and slowly turned her attention to man crouched above her in a protective manner. ‘He’s good...real good!’ she said as her eyes roved over his long blue body, taking in the well-defined muscles in those arms and strong thighs of his. And that chest... 

‘He’s got a six-pack?’ she raised a brow in surprise.

“Jane...”

To be honest, she never expected that he’d have the athletic type of body—not with all those layers of clothing and armor he wore earlier. They actually made him look bigger than what he appeared to be.

“Earth to Jane Foster.”

Not that she was complaining or anything. She’d seen plenty of guys with different body types before, and Loki’s was no different. Though come to think of it, he did look pretty—

“Jane!”

She snapped out of it when the raven haired god snapped his fingers in front of her face. “I look pretty what?” Jane looked at him in slight horror, realizing that she had been staring at him this whole time and almost said what she had thought in her mind out loud. “Jane?” she turned away from him, her ears lowered and her face completely flushed red. Thank goodness he cut her off when he did; otherwise, she would’ve blurted the whole thing out! 

“It’s nothing!”

Loki stared intently at the embarrassed half-spirit woman. He noticed the blush on her face, but made no comment on it as he turned to face Victini, who was completely ignoring them for the moment seeing as he was more focused on trying to melt the ice off his knees and feet. 

“Loki, you’re...you’re...blue,” she whispered.

“I’m perfectly aware of that,” he moved off of her and walked a few steps ahead of her, taking care not to brush up against her body or her four tails in any way.

Jane winced at his cold tone. “I don’t mean that in any negative way, Loki...” she said softly to him as she finally got up and walked closer to the tall god just as he was turning back to normal. Then she took his pale hand in hers, surprising him greatly. “No matter the skin color of yours or what form you take, you’re still you,” she tightened her grip on his hand when he tried to pull away. Then a bright smile appeared on her face as she looked up at him, her ears now perked up, and the sight of it all tugged on his heart strings a bit. “You are Loki, an ancient Norse God and a brilliant Master Sorcerer. Don’t you dare let anyone tell you otherwise! And don’t let whatever past thoughts you had before in your life continue to haunt your current ones. No one here’s going to judge you for your looks. I certainly won’t,” she released his hand and turned to their enemy who just now finished freeing himself. “Besides, I’m perfectly fine with you looking either way. Oh and by the way, that ice move you performed earlier? That was pretty badass.”

Loki had nothing to say to that. He was simply left speechless.

Victini shook the moisture off his body and stood up. “++What a touching moment. Too bad I almost—++”

“Shut up Voldemort! I’m getting sick of hearing your awful voice coming out of Victini’s mouth!” Jane cut him off coldly, flashing in front of the pokemon with a glowing white hand. “It’s over!” with a flick of her wrist, she summoned a small mana-shaped cage and trapped him inside of it, but not before holding him in place with her telekinesis.

Then without looking away from the struggling pokemon, Jane called out to the trickster god. 

‘((Loki! It’s time now! Come over here!))’

Thirty seconds later, she felt Loki move up right behind her. Jane looked at him, and he looked at her. With a single nod of understanding, the raven haired god place his hand on top of hers. Then Jane turned around, slipped their joined hands inside of the cage, and placed them on the pokemon’s head. 

“++What are you do—++”

Everything went dark.

                                            XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jane and Loki opened their eyes only to be greeted with a dark room. Before they could even begin to explore the place, they heard a slight noise, and turned around. 

Trapped in some kind of rock-like prison was the real Victini, who was staring at them with wide yet relieved ocean blue eyes.

“So you’ve come,” the voice of Ebony Maw grabbed their attention.

Not too far away from Victini, a tall humanoid being with gray skin, light silver eyes, and dressed in black and gray royalty-like clothing with silver and gold accents stood there frozen in disbelief.

He also seemed to be a little transparent, bathed in some kind of energy that made his physical body nonexistent. He was just pure energy in this state of form.

“Indeed we have...” Loki glared right at him. “Lapdog,” he smirked, making the alien’s features twist up in anger.

“You dare—” without a word, Jane rushed forward and destroyed the image of Ebony Maw, cutting him off and making him fade away from existence.

Once that was done, she walked over to the rock and shattered it into pieces with a single kick charged with mana. Now that he was free from his prison, Victini floated downward and flew around the semi-tall half-spirit woman and tall raven haired god. 

“Thank you!” he came over and hugged the two, surprising the hell out of them.

A bright white flash went off in the room, and three shielded their eyes as they were enveloped by the light.

                                            XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jane was the first to awaken, and so without waiting for Loki, she slipped out from underneath him. Then she walked over to the trapped Zeraora, ‘Huh? This is interesting?’ and raised a brow at the calm Thunderclap Pokemon who stared at her from within his spot with tired sky blue eyes. “So you managed to free yourself in the end and turn back to normal?” at his silent nod, she continued. “I guess that means the clone controlled you while the main one, being Victini, turned out to be culprit calling the shots.” 

Zeraora looked at the woman now burning away the ice with her fire lit hands. “{That is correct,}” he said then stretched his body once he was free, and once Jane stepped away from him. Before he could continue speaking, however, the fiery haired woman reached up and took the metal headband off his head. “{I...Thank you, Miss Jane!}” he bowed his head in gratitude, watching her burn the contraption in her hand until there was nothing left behind. 

Jane nodded, and turned back to Loki and Victini. She and Zeraora walked over to the two just in time to witness the God of Mischief take the headband off the little mythical pokemon’s head and crush the thing into a powder of dust in his hand.

“Done?” Jane asked.

Loki caught the unconscious Victini and looked up. “Yes,” he replied.

“You guys!” 

The trio looked up see Nero and the others, Rayquaza, the Great Spirit of Lightning, the Great Spirit of Wind, Celebi, Kagome, and all of pokemon inside of Sota’s huge alien jet fighter make a safe landing on the island, twenty feet away from them.

“Hey you guys...” Jane whispered tiredly, her lips curling into a smile at the at sight of Darcy, Kagome, and Lady running towards her with Nero, Alvin, and some others walking behind the three.

“Jane/Auntie/Boss Lady!”

Loki and Zeraora moved away just in time to watch Jane get tackled to the ground in a bear hug.

“It’s so good to see you! And to see that you’re still alive!”

Her smile widened, and Jane returned their hug, relieved to see them too.

“I’m sorry for worrying you—” she was cut off by Nero and Alvin pulling on her cheeks, who gave her a look from their crouched positions on the ground. “Hey!” a small pout made its way onto her lips by the time the two men let go.

“It’s alright Jane,” they both shook their heads and gave her matching grins as the ladies finally released her, allowing her to get up. 

They, too, followed suit.

“[Here Loki, take this. It’ll cure the burn you have,]” she saw Gale hand the raven haired god a funky pear-shaped brown bottle, which she knew to be a Panacea Bottle.

Loki shouldered Victini in one hand and took the bottle from him with his other hand, reluctantly. “What is this?” he asked, observing the item with slight curiosity and suspicious in his eyes. Then he shook the bottle and heard liquid inside. “Medicine?” he inquired, his eyes softening up a bit as he pulled the cap off and got a whiff of its aroma. 

“[Yes. It’s called a Panacea Bottle. And it’s used to cure any and all status ailments for one person. Tastes horrible, but it works like a charm...]” Gale replied and saw the god take a small sip. “[Careful though! It has a strange aftertaste!]” he warned him a little too late.

Loki frowned at the taste, but ignored it as he threw back the bottle and finished it off in five seconds flat. 

“Would’ve been lovely if you had told me that before I started taking a sip of the damn thing...” he paused in his grumbling, his eyes shining with concealed awe he felt the medicine work its magic, taking away the lingering burning sensation he had earlier. “That was surprisingly fast. This stuff must be very potent,” he looked at the empty bottle with intrigue before giving it back to the humanoid cabbit spirit.

“[It is,]” Raiden answered for Gale with folded arms, watching the raven haired god hand the unconscious Victini over to Jude when he asked for him.

Jane smiled, watching everyone getting along with one another. And even though the majority of them, except for the regular pokemon who were still in Sota’s fighter jet, were giving Loki strained smiles and distrustful looks, they weren’t treating him badly at all...

Or trying to pick a fight with him.

They were actually being civil to him! 

And he, in return, was being civil back to them.

Good...

It was also funny to see the ladies of the group having a hard time keeping their eyes on Loki's face, and not have them stray downward to his bare chest that was proudly put on display.

Tch...Really? 

Damn show off...

He wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was secretly enjoying the attention from them and everyone else. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if he was doing this on purpose—not putting a spare shirt or something on. She wouldn’t put it past him not to do something like this, and get a reaction out of those around him just for shits and giggles.

Mere harmless fun, she guessed. 

After all, Loki’s the God of Mischief. It’s what he does best, and that is cause mischief. Good or bad otherwise. 

So, it was safe to say that he didn’t care that he was walking around half-naked with small burns and cuts scattered all over his chest, arms, and the sides of his face. 

"Is something the matter ladies?" Loki raised a brow and placed his hand on his hips.

Lady firmly yet slowly shook her head while Kagome and Elize turned pink with embarrassment and scratched the back of their heads nervously. 

Darcy on the other hand, though, just gave him a somewhat flirtatious grin.

"Not really dude! Just never realized until now how ab-tastic you are!" she said, totally ignoring pointed looks she was receiving from the other three and her former boss.

Loki's eyebrows dipped significantly as he stared down at the woman wearing glasses in deep confusion.

"I beg your pardon?"

Jane sighed inaudibly to herself.

‘She was never subtle when it came to these sort of things. Honestly, why she’s even flirting with him in the first place I will never know.’

‘How strange...I can’t help but think you’re starting to sound a little jea—’ 

The young half-spirit immediately shut the infinity gem out, blocking her voice.

‘Shut it.’

Nearby, Nero wasn’t looking so impressed while Alvin raised a brow at the sight.

“That girl has no shame does she?” the ex-mercenary asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

“Nope!” the spiky white devil haired hunter rolled his eyes. “And neither does Loki,” he mumbled with a soft scoff. “At least Lady’s not falling for it,” a satisfied look crossed his face as he closed his eyes.

“Oh? You say that as if she already has her eyes on someone else,” Alvin’s voice sounded half amused and half interested.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Nero returned with a shrug, neither confirming or denying it.

‘Nice one Nero. And I know who you’re talking about too...’ Jane laughed in her mind. ‘But that remains to be seen whether or not he feels the same way for Lady,’ she finished, calming down.

And it was at this moment when...

“{Miss Jane...your face...it’s turning extremely pale with a light purple hue to it,}” she heard Zeraora speak up quietly next to her, his voice wavering quite a bit. “{And your eyes...they’re starting to turn red.}”

A feeling of déjà vu hit her when she felt a familiar wave of pain wash over her body, except, it was excruciating this time around. 

‘Oh hell no! Not again!’ she heard the Aether curse in the back of her head as she swayed from side to side. ‘Jane! Don’t you dare faint on me again you hear me!’ a bright light erupted from her body, drawing everyone else’s attention on her, as her spirit form wore off.

"Jane!”

Loki caught the woman in his arms before she could fall on the ground, and Kagome ran over to his side to check on her aunt’s temperature. But she pulled her hand back in shock at the chill she felt coming from Jane.

“She’s turning ice cold!”

“[That’s not good at all...]” Gale walked over to them, looked down, and blanched at the sight of Jane’s condition. “[We need to leave and take her to Tony now,]” he turned around and barked at the others. “[Let’s move out everyone!]”

Everything passed by in a blur for Jane for the next seven minutes. 

‘Huh...?’

When young woman came back to reality, she found herself laying on her left side, and facing Loki’s chest, who was riding with ten others on Rayquaza’s back. 

“What happened?” she tried to sit up only to be stopped by the man whose lap she was in.

“Rest easy, Jane Foster. We’re heading over to Stark’s home to get your poison treated.”

The young woman blinked. “Tony? We’re going there?” she mumbled a bit groggily, and looked up to see two pairs of eyes staring down at her.

One being green and the other being brown.

“Yes, Auntie. With the speed Rayquaza and everyone else behind him are going at, we’ll be there shortly,” Kagome explained. “So please...just rest for now okay?”

Jane merely nodded. 

“O...kay,” she closed her eyes and immediately fell asleep.