#vere: *kills me instantly*

[s7-evermore]

On this note, how do you guys think you’ll die in Touchstarved? Personally, I think I’ll die from either my sheer stupidity and lack of self-preservation or…dehydration—

Lol I just thought of a TOUCHSTARVED reincarnation AU where you get reincarnated as the MC in Touchstarved when you’ve only played the demo of the game so you have absolutely no fucking clue what to expect :D aside from what’s been showed in the demo

We’re gonna fucking die 💃🕺

[kybelles]

it’s incredibly disappointing and shocking to see how misogynistic and vile the capri fandom is towards jokaste even in the year of 2023, to the point of calling her “used goods” and “an opportunistic slut” (YES YOU READ IT RIGHT!) it gets extra depressing when you remember jokaste did what she did to save damen’s life and it wasn’t even acknowledged by damen or that she was really rewarded other than laurent letting her go instead of her being charged with treason.

the most common argument i come across is “we don’t know if she did it to save damen’s life! it was purely laurent’s theory therefore it’s ambiguous.” now i know media literacy has been a lost art for the longest time so it doesn’t necessarily surprise me but if you read this exchange, based on her reaction, it’s quite clear that laurent was correct in his assumption:

and if even this isn’t a solid proof for you, here’s pacat’s own words:

another arguments i frequently see are:

a- “why didn’t she try to warn damen?” damen’s literal best friend from his childhood days tried to warn him against kastor and he paid him no mind. you really believe he would listen to jokaste, someone he’d known for a shorter period than nikandros?

b- “did she really need to sleep with kastor?” …yes? do i need to remind you that damen’s entire household was killed? which would include jokaste if she wasn’t kastor’s mistress? not to mention she had to be close to kastor to save damen.

through the series, pacat intentionally draws parallels between laurent and jokaste; both appearance and character wise. remember this scene where laurent stopped the vaskian raiders from instantly killing damen?

jokaste played the same gamble. she had no way of knowing whether damen would survive in vere or not but she had to try because she loved damen too much to see him slaughtered like a pig in front of her eyes. and yes i use the word love because just look at the way she talks about him… oh my god… like while it is implied jokaste first got close to damen for personal gain, she obviously developed feelings for him after some point and had the utter respect for him. (i always think it’s quite sad us fic writers need to write her cheating on damen with kastor in modern aus for plot sake because under normal circumstances, jokaste would never let damen go)

i guess the horrible misogyny aside, what also drives me insane is the double standard. laurent had damen collared like a slave, drugged him, forced him to fight with the threat of rape if he lost, whipped him, sexually assaulted him by proxy and the fandom can still sympathize with him and love him (don’t get me wrong i love him too) but when it comes to jokaste, someone who had no choice and did the only thing she could do to save damen, people hate her passionately and call her awful names. it’s infuriating. it’s disgusting.

tldr; jokaste genuinely loved damen and made the only choice she could under those unfortunate circumstances to save him from a horrible death and while no one is obligated to love her, this appalling misogyny train needs to stop.

[redstrewn]

I regret not buying kuras merch now bc who tf is gonna help me w my anatomy homework now. Leander??? The guy who probably steals bodies from crypts and does forbidden magic instead of the guy who runs a clinic that heals people???????

Ok but to be fair kuras is a fucking quack. Mf just uses his angel powers. Using touchstarved characters as support to get through anatomy classes is a mistake i fear

Meanwhile vere is like yeah heres the fucking kidneys. And dont eat the appendix over here shit is disgusting

Ok how could i forget abt mhin. Mf killed that soulless instantly with surgical precision. If anyone could help w anatomy its mhin.

Ais just beats everything into unrecognizable mush

[therisingkings]

All is Well

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Check it out on Ao3

The dungeons beneath the castle were unpleasant, to say the least. Since the castle was still less than three years old, there were hardly any prisoners. Just a handful of Akielons that had stirred up trouble in Delfeur and were awaiting trial, and the man who Damen faced now.

Upon closer inspection, he was native Veretain. His hair was fiery red, his eyes a dull gray. He wasn’t the one that had stabbed Laurent, but Damen was still instantly filled with rage at the sight of him.

“You will not speak to any of my men,” Damen said as he approached the bars. “But you will speak to me.”

The man looked up, rolling his head back against the cell wall. The right side of his face was swollen where Damen had punched him. He said in Veretain, “We stuck your bed boy good, didn’t we?”

The rage flared up again inside of Damen, and carefully, he managed it. “If you provide me with the details of your plan and the men you work with, I will spare your life.”

That got the man’s attention. “I expected an execution.”

“Then you stabbed the wrong King. Had it been me you stabbed, you would not have been given a shred of mercy.”

“But?”

It was difficult to say. “But I understand that you must have been put in a situation that compelled you to think that killing your King would make your life better. I intend to give you the means to get out of that situation and give you a chance to start your life new, if you provide me with the information I want.” Damen spread his hands, a Veretain gesture he’d learned from Laurent. “Think of it as an exchange.”

The man cocked his head. “And I have your word?”

“You have the word of a King.”

His boots scraped against the stone floor as he adjusted his position. “The Regent saved my family.”

Damen’s gaze flickered to where Nikandros picked his way towards him. He focused back on the assassin.

“It was a year or two after the King and Prince Auguste died. Our village’s trade routes to Patras were cut off when the Akielons took over Delfeur. My father went to plead for help and so the Regent did. He provided us with the funds and connections we needed to begin trading with Vask.

“The others all had similar stories. The Regent was a savior. He was a true King. That child on the throne never deserved his position. He didn’t lift a finger at the border until he was forced to. He is a petulant—”

The man stopped as Nikandros came to stand beside Damen, his arms crossed. 

Damen let the silence push the man. It worked.

“I hope he’s dead. I hope he dies. I don’t care that you are his husband. You will be a better ruler for Vere than him.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” Damen said through his teeth. “But I don’t care about your opinion. Are there more of your group?”

“No. We all had military experience. We thought— we knew it was a suicide mission.”

“How did you get onto the grounds?”

The man laughed. “That was the easy part. Don’t you Akielons say that all Veretains look the same? We left three of your scouts a mile out.”

“Are they alive?”

“Not anymore. We left them tied up to a couple boulders on the beach. The tide would have taken them by now.”

Beside Damen, Nikandros’ jaw flickered with tension. That was a cruel way to kill a man. To leave him lashed to a rock, unable to escape as the waves beat on him until he eventually drowned. 

“Why did you kill them?”

The man shrugged. “Does it matter?”

It didn’t, really. They’d be dead whether the cause was justified or not.

Damen nodded to Nikandros as he stepped back. “I have all the information I need. Kill him.”

“What?” The man lunged for the bars. “You promised you’d let me go!”

Damen didn’t bother to look back as he said, “I lied.”

*****

The next few days were hard. Laurent’s fever climbed until he no longer recognized Damen.

That was the worst of it. Damen came into the room to find Laurent white in the face. 

He said, “Please, tell uncle that I don’t want to do it anymore. Can I go back to my room?”

For this room was befitting of a king, draped in blue and red. It was where the Regent would have stayed, had he still been alive.

Damen knelt beside the bed. Pascal had warned him about this. The fever combined with the sleeping drought Laurent had been taking could lead to confusion and temporary amnesia. 

Damen lifted a hand and Laurent flinched away. He said, “Your uncle is dead, my love. You are King. This is your bedroom.”

Laurent just stared at him. 

Sighing, Damen pushed to his feet. He mixed together some of the crushed willow bark and water Pascal had given to him. “Drink this. It will help you feel better.”

Laurent frowned at the glass. He was shaking slightly and the water sloshed. 

Damen took his wrist, guiding the glass to his lips. To his surprise, Laurent took it, downing the glass slowly. 

“Good,” Damen purred. “That’s it.” 

Once he was done, Damen helped him lay back down. Lifting Laurent’s shirt, he found that the bandages were still clean, which was a good sign. He’d been worried Laurent might have opened his stitches when he sat up on his own. 

Laurent caught his hand when he made to pull away, studying the lines of his palm. “You are… Akielon?”

Damen braced himself. “I am.”

“And you’re married?” Laurent traced his wedding band. “But rings are a Veretain tradition.”

Damen’s heart began to pound. His golden slave cuff was concealed by his sleeve just inches away from Laurent’s fingertips. Laurent’s own cuff was in plain sight, as well as his ring.  Damen wasn’t sure what he remembered, and he didn’t want to freak him out. Laurent was already behaving surprisingly acquiescent, which either meant he didn’t recognize Damen, or didn’t remember that he killed his brother.

Damen said carefully, “I am married to a Veretain.”

Laurent’s eyes were wide and open. “There is peace, then?”

“Yes. Because of you.”

“Me?” Laurent glanced back down at their hands. A long finger traced the lines of Damen’s palm. “I think I… I think I remember now.”

“What do you remember?”

Laurent was silent for a moment, contemplative, and then he pulled back, pushing himself back up. Damen reached to help him, but Laurent practically exploded away from him. He scrambled across the bed, lunging for the knife on the opposite nightstand. 

Damen cursed, but let him slip away. “Laurent,” he said steadily.

Laurent stood on the opposite side of the bed, brandishing the knife. “I don’t know how you got in here—”

���Laurent.”

“But do not expect to leave with your life.”

Damen rounded the bed slowly, hands up as if approaching a wild animal.

“Guards! Guards!” Laurent backed away as Jord burst into the room.

Damen flung out a hand. “He’s fine, Jord.”

Laurent tried to strike Damen with the knife as he neared, cursing at him.

Damen knocked the knife aside. “Do that, and we’ll have two incapacitated rulers.”

Laurent tried to hit him with his fist this time, but his strength failed him. Damen caught him before he could fall and Laurent beat weakly against his chest.

“Are you here to kill me too? One prince wasn’t enough?”

Damen closed his eyes, trapping Laurent in his arms. He said to Jord, “Please, go get Pascal.”

The door clicked shut and they were alone again.

Laurent thrashed. “Let me go. Let me go, you—”

“Laurent, sweetheart, you are going to hurt yourself.” Damen manhandled him as gently as he could back onto the bed, which was hardly gentle at all. He rested his head atop Laurent’s, sighing. “I am your husband.”

That didn’t help. Laurent spat curse words Damen had never even heard of and tried to bite Damen’s hand. After a few more moments of struggle, he stilled, panting. “What do you want from me?” he hissed.

“I want you to get better. You are not yourself.”

Laurent let out a noise that Damen suspected was supposed to be a laugh, but stopped halfway up his throat. 

They sat in silence until Pascal came.

Pascal was angry. “You better not have torn your stitches, you foolish boy.”

Very few people in the two kingdoms could get away with calling King Laurent of Vere a foolish boy, but Pascal had reserved that right from caring for him for most of his life.

Laurent squinted at him. “You are just going to let this Akielon—”

“Silence. Lift his shirt.”

It was easier said than done. Laurent squirmed until Damen had had enough and called Jord back in to help. 

Pascal scrutinized the wound. “You have torn your stitches, so we will have to redo them.” 

“How the fuck do you expect that to happen?” Damen had narrowly avoided being headbutted more than once. 

Pascal put his hands on his hips. “You will have to hold him. You did it before.”

“He didn’t want to kill me before!” 

“Figure it out,” Paschal snapped. “I need to get my tools ready.” 

Laurent looked at Damen like he was about to spit fire in his eyes.

“Don’t make this difficult,” Damen warned as he switched his grip.

Laurent took the opportunity to sink his teeth into Damen’s arm. 

“Motherfucker!” Damen shouted, yanking his arm away. “Jord, help me!”

Together, they got Laurent under control and as still as possible. Damen had to put his knee on Laurent’s chest, using his weight to hold him down, and pinned his arms above his head while Jord held his legs. 

Paschal muttered to himself as he pulled out the old stitches, making Laurent scream. Damen pressed down harder. 

Thankfully, Paschal worked quickly. By the end of it, Laurent was crying, “Let me go. Let me go.”

Paschal and Jord pulled away, the latter with a pale face. Damen eased his weight off slowly and Laurent turned onto his good side, sobbing into his pillow. 

“Maybe it’s best if you leave, Your Majesty.” Paschal packed his things into his bag. “His mind is in a very fragile state and your face likely isn’t helping.” 

“I’m not leaving him,” Damen growled. 

“Damen, look at him.” Jord put a hand on his shoulder.

Damen didn’t want to look. Once more, Laurent’s side was covered in blood and his body shook with his cries. Damen closed his eyes. “Fine, but I want someone to fetch me the moment he’s lucid.” 

“Of course.”

Paschal said to Jord, “I’ll get him something to eat. Stay here.”

Damen went to the other side of the bed as Paschal left. He touched Laurent’s cheek, tucking a stray hair behind his ear. “Will you let me kiss you goodbye?”

Laurent’s blue eyes were bright with fever and shining with tears. He hissed with a vicious coldness that Damen had not heard in a long time, “Do not touch me.”

Damen backed away, nodding to Jord. “I’m serious. You send for me the moment it’s safe.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Jord bowed his head.  

Damen sighed and retreated from the room.

[sandalwoodhusbands]

when i was little my mom used to play friends reruns on the tv constantly. anyone remembers the episode where monica moved in with chandler, and her and rachel cried on the couch because it was 'the end of an era'? i didn't really get it then, but i think i do now.

i know the show will go on. i'm happy that it will. in some way though, it feels like a little piece of my heart left with the last rolling credits tonight. it's only fair that i give it a deserving farewell.

first of all, i want to clarify that this isn't a post for tumblr. this is a post for my friends, that i want to share on tumblr because i am proud of us and of what we've found, and i want everyone to know.

lily. @davnci you made all of this happen, you know? i've always been a casual watcher. a casual reader, a casual listener. if it hadn't been for you i wouldn't be where i am now. this happened because of you, god fucking bless the moment you decided you wanted to fight for an eliott season.

sophie. my dear wifey. i have no words to explain how much i love you. you already know, i've told you enough times. if i could change one thing, it would be the distance between us. you're one of my favorite people on earth, and i wish you all the good in the world. you deserve it.

tara. @jebentnietalleen what can i say to you that you don't know already? you always thank me for reaching out one year ago. i would do it 100 times over. when we parted ways in paris i told you 'I'll see you soon' and you said 'i hope so'. now we're thinking about going on vacation together next year. i think that says enough about our relationship. i love you.

helen. @eliotts-eyes my beautiful helena de troya. my favorite greek godess, and my bro. remember the other day when we talked about missing someone without having met them? that's what i feel about you. i can't wait to sing to harry styles and do cartwheels with you, i don't care what city as long as it happens. i love you.

meg. @lifeisevak my favorite british person, up there in my top 10 favorite people i love to talk to. you came to me like a hurricane, talking about skam og and pride and i was instantly in awe of you. that still hasn't changed. i want to hug you so bad sometimes i could cry. bloody hell, i am so proud of you and all that you've become, it doesn't even make sense because i had nothing to do with it. i am so proud of you for just existing. i love you.

camille. @demaury fuck. you chaos personified. if i had to have 5am conversations about the french revolution with someone it would be with you. thank you so much for taking a piece of yourself and sharing it with me and our friends. if i could bottle up all of the times you make me fucking lose it with one of your jokes i'd have enough bottles to reconstruct the mediterranean sea. i love you.

belle. @choupielu my beautiful dumb dumb daughter. you drive me up the walls, you make me stay up until 6am more than once. you get me in weird groupchats with people i've never met in my life, and i let you. i let you do a lot of things, i hope you feel special. it it all turns to shit, i know who will threaten the world with their bare hands. there's a saying in spanish that says 'las cosas grandes vienen en frascos pequeños' look it up. te queero.

alicia. @crazyabeh you fucking gorgeous human being. if i had to put a face to summer, it'd be yours. i've told you many times. you glow. you're so kindhearted, some would say too much. the first time we met you got me a welcoming gif (i loved it by the way. my mama still asks about you) and the next time we see each other i'll get you a 'let's not spend this long without seeing each other again' one.

glory. @actualsoulmates if you decide on coming to study your masters here you know my door is open for you. in fact, if you don't come live with me for at least a month i will be very upset. you deserve everything good that there is in this world. if this hellsite did something good, is bring us together (and hey, july 23rd... we're throwing a party right?) te amo.

lucie. @hellswolfie for such a quiet one, you're one of my favorite people. i've seen you around for so long, since i very first started my side account. wanna hear a secret? when you joined our friend group i was so fucking happy. i might be the one putting out content, but i was so eager to get to know you for real. you're so sweet, i love you forever.

mara. i don't think i've ever met someone who got the demons in my head quite as you do. i miss you a lot when you're not here. i always feel like a bit of an overexcited puppy when you come back, but i think that's okay, i just want you to feel loved. you know ohana? how no one gets left behind? even when you're not there we don't forget you. you're part of us, always will be, and i love you.

verena. you fucking kind human. you have many reasons to get mad when things go to shit, but you're always the one there making sure everyone is okay and cheering us up. remember that thing you did at the begining of the quarentine? the japanese tradition? no one's ever cared like this for me. i'll forever be thankful. i love you.

manar. @waunderlnst0 you're definitely the purest one out of all my friends. it's funny, really. if i wanna talk to someone i know you'll always be around. you're chaotic good. and hey, thanks for being faster than mr axel auriant in catching his posts. i love you.

ani. @coffeerocks i'm not entirely convinced you and vere weren't long lost siblings in another timeline. you are so sweet. thanks for putting up with my weird texting habits. you've done so many things for me that we both know about and I'll never get to thank you enough. so many genuine acts of kindness, i hope your life will be the happiest it can be. i love you.

julie. @ariavds you're texting me as i'm writing this, and all i'm thinking is 'god, is it possible to be this fond of someone else?'. words fall short for all i would like to say to you. you're not the same person that i met a year ago. to that shy girl, i wanted yo say thank you, for bringing you to me. i said once you were the best person that had happened to me this year and i still stand by it. je t'adore ma julie.

anabelle. @mabubblebulle 🦝❤️🦔🐿️🌸🍍 out of all the things skam france has brought to me, you're the one that came more unexpected. my beautiful, perfectionist ravenclaw. if you ever feel sad, remember that in the parallel universe where the pandemic didn't happen we'd be spending our summer weekends together. just gotta hold in there. happy me ❤️

sophia. @eliottdemmaury an actual eliott demaury in disguise, your username matches you. i really hope for, the best for you. i want you to be happy all of the time instead of just sometimes. you brilliant, beautiful mind that kills me with your words. i am so happy that i met you. i don't wanna see you sad ever. i love you. (an actual babey)

jaime. @surrealsunday well, if it isn't the neglecting parent. you are, how do i even explain it? as a reader, thank you so much for your fics. the last chapter of hollow edge came out 12 hours after i got the news that my flight to paris had been canceled. it was the first thing that got a smile out of me that day. as a friend, thank you so much for indulging me in my bullshit. i was going through a hard time and julie said 'beg her for it, maybe she'll write it' so i did. and so you wrote it. and dedicated it to me. thank you so much for being a part of this fandom.

nicole. @anditsnicole you're such a good heart. i love your take on the show, but i also love how it's more than that. i love that you ask me how i'm doing, if there's anything happening in my life. i love that i care. thank you for sharing your ride with me for the past 2 seasons.

britt. @i-wish-i-felt-you-there for such a young age (she says, the 20 year old), you're such a fierce person. i admire you. i love that you convinced me to watch a whole movie based on a videogame i haven't played in my fucking life and never will. the nights that i stayed up with you talking and laughing, until 6am and i had a headache, i'd never trade them for anything. i love you you disaster human.

keren. @thedelegationofkeren god i miss you. you were one of the first people i met in here. you had to witness at least 3 of my breakdowns, if i remember correctly. and you stayed, even if you were a stranger, you stayed. and i thank you for that. i hope we'll be there for each other in the future too. i love you.

most of all, though? skam france. thank you. thank you for creating a platform that, as flawed as it might be, it brought these people to my life. thank you.

merci, skam france. it's been real.

[is-i-halloween-yet]

Too Afraid to Forget Saturday

(Antisepticeye X Reader)

Request: anon asked= Could you do an antisepticeye x reader based on the song Remembering Sunday by All Time Low?

Warning: I took the song my way. It may not be the right way. But is what I felt. Also it is dark and sad. And very short. But it’s a thinker. So get that thinking cap on.

(AN:

Anti paced, around his room, something he had done fairly often since moving back with the Septic Egos in Chase’s new house. The others knew how much he was hurting, but if they were honest they didn’t know how to stop him. They just let him pace, the ever echoing footsteps keeping them up at night.

“He fucking asked if they needed to call Jack? If I needed to be put on medication?”  Anti murmured angrily as he fought the urge to glitch, “This is why I haven't left the room.”

“Henrik was only trying to help.” Y/N smiled at him from her spot sitting on his bed, “He’s your brother. He was worried.”

Anti paused, looking at their figure for a moment before beginning to pace again, “Your right, as always.”  Y/N smiled, standing so Anti could wrap his arms around their waist, placing their feet on top of his as the two swayed gently to the beat of Anti’s rapid heartbeat, “Shit.” He cursed, pressing their forehead to theirs, “Now I have to fucking apologies.”

“It’s two words. I think you can handle that.”

“It will be enough to catch um off guard.” Anti mused with a small humph, kissing the figures nose, “They’ll think I am planning to stab them in the back. I’ll get away with anything for a week. Again you are brilliant doll.”

Y/N chuckled at this, pecking Anti’s lips gently, Anti deepening it, though he groaned when they pulled away, now only holding his hand as they backed up slowly. “I think you should be nicer to your brothers.”

“Well I think you shouldn’t tease.” Anti smirked, pining them to the wall, stopping as a single finger is pressed to his lip, the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs filling the house, “Are you fucking-”

Y/N chuckled, pecking his cheek before sneaking under his arms, “Have a serious talk with him. I’m gonna shower.” 

And like that, they were gone, sneaking into Anti’s bathroom as they were replaced by a knock at his door, Anti glitching onto his bed as he rolled his eyes,  A small “Come in.” leaving his mouth while he crossed his arms and looked out the window as footsteps entered and closed the door, “Look Henrik I’m fucking sorry. But you’ve got to-”

“I will be sure to let Henrik know, though I am sure he would love to hear it from you.” An American voice called back, surprising Anti as the weight on his bed dipped “How are you?”

Anti chuckled, looking to the father with a roll of his eyes, “So we are speaking now?” Another laugh, as he hands fell, one to his hair and the other to his leg, “Who sent you in? And what kind of fucking aneurism are they having?”

“Look we haven't seen eye to eye-”

“That’s the fucking understatement of the year.” Anti spat back, moving to stand but pausing when Chase raised a hand to touch his shoulder, both pausing in motion before Anti reluctantly sat back down, looking away from his brother, “What do you want Chase.”

The father flinched at the harsh phrasing of what should have been a question but he sighed, hiding his fear as he stood so he was face-to-face with the hell fire eyes, a strange familiarity hidden beneath the green irises that brought the shiver back. “I... Uh... Shit man...” 

“Just spit it out.” Anti spat, though his voice was numb of emotion. “I don’t have all day.”

Chase didn’t know what to say. All original intention  fading away into the suppressed anger he’d tucked away since he had given his blessing for the glitch to move in. “Fuck man. I don't know what your problem is.” He chuckled bitterly,  “No I do. You think you are so above everyone else that you don't deserve any of this. You think that just because something bad happened to you that you can storm in here and demand shelter. Expect all just to be handed to you on a gold plate Do you even have sympathy for what you did? Do you even realize how wrong everything you’ve done is?”

“I don’t-”

“You killed Jack! Several times! You tried to kill Henrik! You cut out JJ’s vocal chords and kept him like puppet! You hid Marvin and Jackie! You-” Chase stopped, turning away, not wanting Anti to see him cry, though he knew that all efforts were pointless, “You kidnapped my children. And you have no remorse. So I don’t know why you would want something as simple as comfort.”

Anti glitched, at this, echoing Chase’s prior laughter as he vanished in front of him, eyes fully a glow, growling and snarling at the father, “I don’t need comfort. Especially not from the likes of any of you. Y/N and I don’t need this home. We can get one of our own. We just needed a place to stay.”

The hairs on Chase’s arm stood up, all other emotion leaving him, “Y/N? What-”

“Yeah. The fucking partner I have that no one acknowledges.” Anti got into Chase’s face, glitching hands shoving him against the closed door, “That’s just as fucked as any of the things you listed.”

“Ignoring? Anti-” Chase was stuttering now, but not because of the death grip Anti had on his shoulders, but rather of a block in his mind. “Anti...”

Anti’s attack only deepened, shoving him further as his head filled with static, head glitching back and forth such to the point he almost failed to hear the bathroom door reopen, Y/N entering, a sad look on the scene in front of them. Anti noticed and dropped Chase, instantly going over to them, grabbing their arm, “You tell this dumb father Y/N. Tell him how much it hurts you.”

But Y/N did not respond. They only shook their head, blinking away tears. 

“What the fuck have you done.”

Anti jumped at the feeling of Chase’s hand on his shoulder, instantly glaring at him as he shoved it off, “Don’t fucking touch me.” Turning to Y/N, he grabbed both of Y/N’s hands, though all they could do was look beyond, eyes and mouth agape, “Tell him Y/N.”

Nothing. 

Nothing but Chase’s surprisingly strong arms pulling him to the ground, “No... No...”

“They are gone Anti.... They’ve been gone-”

“You are lying.” He choked out, exhaustion filling him, “They are right there.”

“Henrik! Get in here!” Chase yelled, pinning Anti down as he glitched beneath him, “Anti-“

But they glitch couldn’t speak, his eyes falling on the figure that hadn’t moved from the spot, only looked beyond, repeating, “What the fuck have you done?”

“Y/N...”

But it was too late, a prick in the back of his neck causing him to hiss before passing out in the fathers arms. 

“What the fuck have you done.” 

The voice of Y/N called, but echoed strangely as though there was a barrier between us. 

And there was.

I was lying on the couch of our old apartment, Y/N sitting on the kitchen counter, eyes staring blankly at me as I sat up, a shiny clear.... thing separating us. “Y/N?”

“And how you treated Chase? And Henrik?” They chuckled, jumping down and shaking their head as they paced, stopping suddenly as they chuckled bitterly, “ You were doing so much better.”

”I am! I am!” I ran, hitting the barrier harshly as it send me flying to the ground. “What the- Y/N.. Let me through.”

In turn, Y/N scoffed, grabbing a stool and dragging it towards the void as they spoke numbly, “You aren’t ready. It’s not your time.”

“What the fuck-”

“You need to remember.” They scoffed, more sadly then angry, “Why can’t you remember?”

I reached my hand out, hitting the void, chuckling bitterly though I tried again. And again and again and I-

“It’s not your time yet.”

“This is just a joke right?” I chuckled bitterly, standing up, beginning to glitch in attempts to go through, only to fall back on the couch in failure. “Y/N whatever prank you are playing with Marvin it isn’t fucking funny anymore.”

Y/N chuckled, but a tint of sadness was visible in their eyes and they put there hand out onto the void, looking to me with heartbreak, “It never was Anti... Please stop.. And remember.. for me.”

I complied to her first wish, placing my hand over theirs, but then grabbed it, pulling it out of the void only to whine at how freezing it was, “Fuck...”

“Don’t do this to yourself Anti. Not anymore.” They sighed, clutching their hand as tears fell down their face. “You couldn’t have done anything... It’s not your fault. It will never be your fault.”

“Fuck... Y/N...”

They chuckled tearfully, reaching a hand to the void once more, “I am sorry... I am sorry I had leave you and have to once more. I will wait fore you my love... ”

Y/N was turning around, leaving me... No... Not again.  

Without thinking I grabbed her, trying desperately to pull her back or to get her to pull me in but to no avail. 

“Let me go with you.” I pleaded, unable to control my sobs, “Please.. I will do anything. Pleas-”

But Y/N only chuckled, shaking their head before reaching out their cold hand to brush my cheek, but only for a moment to comfort me. Just enough. “I love you... I will never stop.”

It was all happening too fast, but I remained, tensing, as they turned away from me with one last smile.

“I will never stop either, Y/N.... I love-”

“You vere out for a very long time. Longer than I intend, I apologize. Though by the judge of your vitals you needed the sleep.” 

The German voice was that which pulled Anti from his heaeven like dream, harsh reality being the bitter hangover that followed, the glitch sitting up on the metal slab to clutch his head with a harsh hiss. Still, his other hand he held the table’s edge harshly to fight a glitch from over taking. “What... What happened.” 

“Why don't you tell us that?” The father’s voice startled the glitch to the point he leapt into the air. Glaring knifes at him before quickly taking a deep breath, staring at the magician and mute at the door way far from the scene.

It made Anti chuckle bitterly.

“Hah.... Is this some group therapy session?” He rolled his eyes, “It’s long over do.”

The sound of the door clicking and the magician, zombie, mute, and hero entering the room, shortly followed by the survival hunter, someone he did not expect to see back so soon, but it startled Anti to hear his brother’s lock the door behind them.

“You do know I can glitch out right?”

The magician smirked, pulling a flask from behind him, a strange blue liquid inside, “You were out while you still had an IV in. So I made this baby. Welcome to the powerless world, brother.”

“So let’s talk.”

The car moved quickly, trying to get to the destination and leave. Not wanting to linger for too long and not for the usual fear of Jack’s community. 

It was distressing... It was... painful. Way too painful. Not just to the glitch, but also to the doctor and the father. The magician and the mute. Everyone. Each and every Septic felt the glitches anguish.

And yours...

The site was lovely, her particular spot lined with all sorts of flowers, even a month after the burial, six months after their death.

They all expected Anti to weep upon seeing the sight, but to their surprise, the glitch only pulled away from his siblings, kneeling down onto the ground, pressing his head to the stone, his free hand setting the white flowers ontop of the stone. 

And without a single tear his kissed the stone, standing, turning to his brothers leaving the grave behind as he tucked his hands into his pocket.

“Let’s go home.”

[nikanndros]

The Arranged Marriage AU Part 19 [Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18]

There’s a window in each cell, high up and tiny. It’s too high for Laurent to look out of - although he knows that they are in the part of the palace that is on the cliffs, and so likely all he would so is a sudden drop to the ocean - but it lets in enough light that Laurent can roughly guess what time of day it is.

Five days pass, and all that happens is that every now and then a servant comes in with food or water.

“Tell Damianos I need to speak with him,” Laurent tells the servant each day, and each day Damen does not come.

Then, on the fifth day, when the sun is casting a small square of warmth on the floor of Laurent’s otherwise dark cell, Damen arrives. With him is a Vaskian woman, who is almost of a height with him.

“Damen,” Laurent says, stepping to the front of his cell.

Damen ignores him, going to stop in front of Kastor’s cell instead.

Kastor is sprawled lazily on the ground, his back propped against the furthest wall. “So it is like that then?” Kastor sighs.

“Khara is here to escort you back to your fiancee in Vask,” Damianos states. “We have chosen to waive a trial and execution. You will be banished to Vask instead, for the good of our alliance with them.”

Kastor is let out of the cell and he stands before Damen. “Take care of yourself,” he says. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Damen nods, as if this is the situation to be taking brotherly advice from his supposed attempted-usurper. “Perhaps you can return one day,” Damen says softly. There’s something very delicate in his voice. Laurent remembers that Damen has just lost his father, and now is losing his brother and his lover. There is only so much pain a man can be expected to take.

Kastor looks back at Damen for a long moment, and then he hugs him. Damen returns the hug immediately, despite how easy it would be for Kastor to steal the sword at Damen’s hip and murder him with it. The sword stays in place.

Kastor pulls back and says, “Remember father’s advice,” and “I will write to you,” and “thank you.”

Damen looks very sad. He watches Kastor and the Vaskian woman leave. The door slams shut and then it is just Laurent and Damen alone together in the resulting silence.

Laurent waits a beat, and then begins, “Damen, you have to believe that I-”

“Wait,” Damen says. Laurent falls silently instantly. “I need a moment.”

Very slowly he turns and walks towards Laurent’s cell. Where Nikandros had stopped, as if afraid to let Laurent get close to him, Damianos does not. He keeps moving towards Laurent until they are both pressed against the bars, in front of one another. Damianos does not flinch when Laurent reaches between them and rests his hands in the crook of Damen’s neck on either side. His eyes are closed.

“Are you alright?” Laurent whispers.

It takes Damen a moment to speak, and when he does, it is quiet. “You could take my throat in your hands and squeeze and I would not fight you. Do you truly want me dead?”

“Damen,” Laurent says. He is pressing himself against the bars with so much force that he thinks he might have bruises after this. “Damen. No. I want nothing less. Those accusations were a farce.”

Damen opens his eyes.“I hope so,” he says. “I feel it in my heart. I don’t care if they were true once, even, as long as they aren’t now.”

“How is Nik?”

“He does not love easily,” Damen says. “He is unaccustomed to dealing with a broken heart.”

“He will never forgive me.”

“Before the wedding, everyone warned him about you. Myself included,” Damen tells him. “We said, he is Veretian, he can’t be trusted, you musn’t let him know your heart or he will eat it.”

Laurent breathes out, shakily.

“When my father invited him here for the tournament,” Damen continues, “he told Nikandros to leave you in Delpha. Nikandros wrote back and vouched for you. I read the letter myself. I thought he sounded like a fool in love, and I decided I would talk sense into him. When I saw you two together, I lost my resolve. How could I ask him to deny something I wouldn’t have the heart to deny myself?”

“I cannot bear this,” Laurent says. He cannot bear to hear of what he once had and has now lost.

Damen doesn’t stop. “Before we went riding to the cliffs, I asked him if he would be terribly jealous if I tried to court you. He said, that you belong only to yourself and so he had no right to stop you. Even as your husband. Even as he loves you.”

“You have to look after him,” Laurent pleads. “After you’ve dealt with me. You have to be there for each other.” Overcome, Laurent adds, “He hates me.”

“He told me that you were bid to lie with him,” Damen murmurs. “I told him no man is as talented an actor as to show love as sweetly as you do. He doesn’t hate you. He is afraid that his love for you might overpower his loyalty to the Kingdom.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Damen admits. “He left soon after he spoke with you. I have been warned not to do anything stupid in his absence, but he didn’t tell me where he was going.”

“He won’t even stay to see me executed,” Laurent chokes out.

Damen grasps Laurent by the shoulders. “There will be no execution,” he hisses.

“You have let Kastor go. They will think you weak if you release me as well,” Laurent tells him. He puts a hand around Damen’s wrist so that he cannot pull it away. “It’s okay, I understand that some things must be done.”

“I am King,” Damen says, and his voice is stern now. “The people will think what I tell them to. I already have a plan in place. I think it will be ready tomorrow. I will come and see you again tomorrow either way.”

“What is the plan?”

“If I tell you,” Damen says, “you’ll tear it apart and ruin my resolve. I have to go.”

“Don’t leave me down here alone,” Laurent says, and he hates the weakness in his voice. At least with Kastor there, he hadn’t been entirely stuck with his own thoughts.

“I’ll send Erasmus to sit with you,” Damen promises. “He has been asking to see you. I will be back tomorrow.”

“I know,” Laurent says.

“I love you,” Damen replies. And then he is gone.

-

Erasmus does come down, looking brave with a bundle of blankets and cushions overflowing in his hands. He stays the whole night, camped out next to Laurent’s cell, and then he leaves in the morning after he collects breakfast for Laurent.

Laurent has nothing to do for the day except for wait for Damen’s promised visit. It is dark again when he finally does arrive. And he is not alone. There is a man shrouded by a dark cloak, quick on his heels.

“You’re back,” Laurent says, grateful just to not be alone.

Damen doesn’t get a chance to reply, because the man next to him pushes past him towards Laurent and then his hood is coming down and revealing thick, golden hair.

“Auguste,” Laurent gasps. He is already sticking his hands between the bars so that Auguste can clutch them.

Auguste’s grip is tight, and he looks Laurent up and down before turning to Damen. “Unlock the cell,” Auguste says. “Please.”

In any other circumstance, Laurent might have chastised his brother for coming this close to begging. Damen is already brandishing a key, and then the lock is coming away and the door to the cells is being opening. Laurent basically stumbles out of it, into his brother’s arms.

“What a mess you’ve gotten yourself into, little brother,” Auguste says, holding him tight.

“Father has done this,” Laurent says into his shoulder. He thinks he might cry from the relief of seeing his brother so unexpectedly. He cannot be executed now because he is always safe when Auguste is nearby.

“We will talk about it later,” Auguste tells him. “We have to go.”

“This way,” Damen instructs, and then he leads them out of the cells and through the palace.

“What’s the plan?” Laurent asks, when they get outside. They are clearly going for the stables. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Too many people heard the initial accusation, before I called for you and sent the guards away,” Damen says. “I have Kyros telling me I should execute you and make an example.”

“I gave you the same advice,” Laurent says.

Auguste makes an annoyed sound and slaps the back of Laurent’s head. “What do you mean you gave the same advice?” he hisses.

“I’m not doing it, anyway,” Damen says. “But we have to get you out of Akielos and somewhere safe.”

“For how long?” Laurent says.

“Laurent,” Auguste hushes him, “We will talk about it after we’ve left Ios.”

“Until my innocence has been proven?” Laurent insists. “Or until my father dies?”

“Laurent,” Auguste says again, this time as a reprimand.

Laurent drags his feet when Auguste tries to hurry him along. He stops walking entirely. He turns to Damianos. “You’re sending me away forever.”

“You can’t stay here,” Damen says. “You cannot go back to Vere or your father will surely kill you. Kempt has an alliance with Vere, so does Vask, they’ll just send you to your father once they find you.”

“Patras,” Laurent says.

“Torveld has offered to house you,” Auguste replies. “He offered when I wrote him, concerned about your wedding to the Kyros, and I sent him another message when you told me in Damianos’ letters that father wasn’t letting me receive your letters. He will help.”

“No,” Laurent says. “I will not fuck him.”

“If you don’t go to Patras,” Auguste says, in the voice he used to use to reason with Laurent when he was six and throwing a tantrum. “You will die.”

“Grandmother won’t give me to father.”

“Kempt will make her. They cannot afford Vere’s ire,” Auguste says.

“I can hide in Vask, no one will know who I am.”  He’s finding it difficult to breathe.

“The Vaskian clans won’t let a random Veretian join them.”

He turns to Damen, grasps his chiton. “Let me stay here, in the shadows. I will find a way to clear my name and stop my father.”

Damen takes Laurent’s hand in his, presses a kiss to it.

“No,” Auguste says. “The risk isn’t worth it, Laurent. I will not have you die for this.”

“Torveld never offered to house me when my engagement was decided on,” Laurent hisses. “He offered to marry me in Nikandros’ place. I won’t fuck him. I am married.”

“That marriage was never consummated,” Auguste says.  “We can choose not to acknowledge it.”

“It was consummated many times.”

“There were no witnesses.”

“Damen witnessed and participated in my consummation more than once, actually.”

The expression Auguste makes at that is almost comedic.

“No it wasn’t,” Damen says, sounding pained. “Laurent, you have to go. I would prefer you alive and in Patras than dead in Akielos. Don’t make me mourn you too.”

Laurent yanks his hand out of Damen’s grasp and turns away. He covers his face and forces himself to breathe. He was willing to die for Damen and Nik, of course they would prefer this over executing him. It’s a terrible choice, but it’s also no choice at all.

“You will acknowledge my marriage,” Laurent says, face still covered. “That part is non-negotiable, or I will tell Torveld myself in great detail how far I am from being a virgin.”

Auguste, obviously sensing the unspoken acquiescence in this negotiation, sighs. “Fine.”

Laurent puts his hands down and turns back to them. “I will go to Patras, but if Torveld’s intentions are anything but kindness for a fellow Prince, I will leave. And you and Damen must both agree to try to clear my name and peacefully stop father so that I can come back.”

“Yes,” Damen says, immediately. “I agree.”

Auguste huffs, but he waves a hand in agreement. “Fine,” he repeats. “Now say goodbye. We have a long night of riding ahead of us.”

Laurent and Damen move towards each other instantly. “Look after each other,” Laurent reminds him, gripping his arms. “And be careful, have Pallas continue checking all the places I told him to. Make sure the poison checkers are performing their duties. Be cautious of who you trust.”

“I love you,” Damen says. “I’ll miss you. Nik will too, you know he loves you.”

“Listen to what he says, he is more perceptive to ill intent than you are,” Laurent continues. “Make sure you comfort him when he finds out I am gone, he doesn’t know how to ask for things for himself.”

Damen kisses him, and there are countless words that they don’t have the time to say in the action.

“I’ll just go get the horses,” Auguste says from somewhere behind them.

Laurent pulls Damen back in when he makes to pull away. “I love you,” he says against his mouth. “Tell Nikandros I love him too. And I’m sorry I wasn’t quicker to telling you both everything. I’m sorry I didn’t stop this in time.”

Damen kisses both of his cheeks, and then the tip of his nose and his forehead. “Write to me,” he says.

“I will,” Laurent promises. “I’ll write in code so there can be no forgeries.”

Laurent takes a step back, he knows he should go and meet Auguste in the stables, but he cannot bear to lose a moment more than necessary with Damen. He trails a hand across the dark skin of his cheekbone.

Over Damen’s shoulder, under the cover of darkness, the light reflects off of something metal.

The knife, withdrawn from Chauvin’s jacket - who has seemingly snuck up behind Damen while they were embracing - has barely caught Laurent’s attention before Laurent is unsheathing the sword strapped to Damen’s side and stepping forward.

It is barely a fight. Chauvin is clearly not expecting resistance, the coward that he is, and a dagger is no match for a sword. Laurent skewers him in one thrust. He falls to the ground, dead.

“Laurent,” Damen breathes, horrified. He didn’t even try to stop Laurent grabbing the sword, he is such a trusting idiot.

“Are you okay?” Laurent asks, even though he knows Damen must be because Laurent just saved him. Laurent turns to him and stumbles a little.

“Laurent,” Damen says again. His voice is pained.

Laurent looks down. There is a dagger lodged into his abdomen to the hilt. Laurent blinks. “I didn’t realise,” he says, almost nonsensically. Chauvin stabbed him. Now that he has seen the blade, staining his jacket dark with blood, the adrenaline from the sudden attack seems to be wearing off and the pain is coming in.

Laurent reaches for the hilt of the dagger to pull it out, but Damen grabs his hands. He is very warm. “No,” Damen says. “No, no.”

Auguste appears then and he is saying something and looking frantic, but Laurent is having difficulty hearing. His vision is spotting. “I need to sit down,” Laurent tries to tell them. He’s not sure if they hear him, but he feels his knees buckle anyway.

Auguste catches him, and Damen is yelling for help. That is the last thing that Laurent sees, before he cannot keep his eyes open any longer.

[septnautical]

Breakwater pt 2

Juri woke to a soft bed, softer than the brick she slept on. The lights above her had been muted and for a second Juri floated in the weird half state of being awake but not really. There were light footsteps that paced near Juri’s bed and she burrowed under the sheets thinking of back when she dormed.

Her eyes popped open, “I don’t dorm anymore.”

A woman looked down from beside Juri’s bed in slight confusion that turned to a soft smile. “Hello Juri, my name is Dr. Danan. Your friend Huffle brought you both here when you were injured,” Dr. Danan explained.

Juri stared at Dr. Danan in slight disbelief up until her memory caught up with her brain about being awake. Her hand automatically flew to her side where she felt lumpy bangaging but only the faintest twinges of pain. Dr. Danan reached down to gently pull Juri’s hand away. “Let’s leave that alone,” Dr. Danan suggested forcefully. Juri had to agree with the way her side was still twinging as if in warning.

A thump on the wall directed Juri to look at the other end of the room where she inhaled sharply at the wall made of complete glass that allowed to show the water room on the other side. It wasn’t the room that made her gasp though but an inquisitive Schneep peering in at her. “Fuck,” Juri whispered as she stared back at him.

Dr. Danan walked around Juri’s bed to press on what looked like a futuristic intercom system, “Yes Henrik?”

“How is she feeling?” Henrik asked after swimming closer to the intercom. Almost on instinct Juri raised her arm to give Henrik a thumbs up which Dr. Danan noticed and chuckled at.

“As you can see Juri is feeling a lot better although I want her to rest for a few days while her injury finishes healing,” Dr. Danan explained although the last part was clearly intended for Juri.

Henrik was nodding even as he pressed himself closer to the glass trying to get a better look at Juri’s injury. Juri glanced at Dr. Danan who lifted an eyebrow before giving a tiny sigh and walking over. “I see you’re as won over by their charm just like your friend was,” Dr. Danan commented. She unraveled the bandages on Juri’s side so Henrik could see it. He instantly had a PDA out and was typing notes in it once Juri’s injury was revealed.

Did we really progress that far in the story? Juri thought.

After a few minutes of letting Henrik examine the wound Dr. Danan wrapped the injury back up. Juri lay there in the silence not knowing what to say and feeling awkward about it. A thought crossed her mind.

“Wait where’s Huffy?” Juri asked.

Dr. Danan glanced up from where she herself was making notes on a PDA, “Your friend was here but I asked her to leave the room after a while. During that time she stole a suit and left the building.”

“She what now.” Juri sat straight up making her wound flare up with pain until she thought she would puke. Dr. Danan tried pushing Juri back down but she was already swinging her legs over the bed and standing with grim determination.

“You’re injured now lay down,” Dr. Danan ordered.

Juri stared Dr. Danan in the face with a stubborn look. “I’m gonna fucking kill her,” Juri declared. She turned and marched out of the room with her hand clamped over her side as her guts felt like they were leaking out. Dr. Danan hurried after Juri to try and prevent her from injuring herself further by reopening the wound.

By the time Dr. Danan found Juri she was already half in a suit at the entrance to the building giving what looked like was a pep talk to herself.

“You can do this Juri just-...just don’t think about it as water! Yeah it’s not water! Just thick air that you have to...swim….through,” Juri trailed off while staring out the hatch, “Fuck what am I doing this is water I can’t go out there. Fuck Huffy I’m gonna absolutely MURDER you!”

Dr. Danan watched the little show with a small amount of amusement before preparing herself to face down and drag a best friend on a warpath back to bed.

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

Huffle hadn’t really meant to just leave Juri there but she couldn’t go in the room as she had gotten in Dr. Danan’s way and after exploring the entire building...well the ocean had just called to Huffle. Especially as she had gotten a glimpse of Schneep in the water room next to Juri’s.

After suiting up Huffle had snuck out the hatch and headed in the direction she vaguely guessed was the shallows. She had been right and after sneaking her way around just in case Jackie was still in the area she had happened upon Jamie.

“This is the single most greatest day of my life,” Huffle whispered as she peered from behind a crop of rocks.

A hand grabbed Huffle from behind and she screeched in surprise. She jabbed her elbow back to hit whoever grabbed her but didn’t land.

“Calm down calm down!” A very familiar voice cried. Schneep swam around Huffle with his hands up and Huffle put a hand on her chest.

“Fuck!” Huffle shouted.

Schneep grinned sheepishly as Huffle took a few seconds to calm down. “What do you want?” Huffle asked eventually. Last she had seen Schneep he had been observing Juri getting fixed up.

“Your friend is awake and currently trying to leave the building to find you while still injured,” Schneep informed Huffle.

“Shit.”

Schneep looked curiously at Huffle, “Vhat are you doing?”

“I was watching Jamie,” Huffle explained while gesturing to where Jamie had been. Except he wasn’t there anymore.

A tentacle waved in front of Huffle’s face and she glanced up to see Jamie lounging on top of the rocks staring down at her. Schneep piped up from next to her to say, “He knew you vere here the whole time.”

Jamie gave her a cheeky grin and wave and somehow Huffle knew this was some of Juri’s characterizations leaking through. Huffle meekly waved at the very amused Jamie.

“I should probably get back before Juri manages to hurt herself,” Huffle muttered.

“Good,” Schneep said, “As I passed a very irate Jackie a while back and I think you would be safer at Ocean’s Arms.”

“Please take me back right now,” Huffle demanded beforeSchneep had even finished his sentence.

Schneep gave her a small grin, “I know you’re first encounter with my brother didn’t go so well but he is not bad.” Above them Jamie nodded in agreement.

Huffle smiled back while thinking hardon what tosay to not give away her status as the writer of them, “I believe you guys it’s just I don’t think he thinks the same of me and Juri.” Jamie floated down next to Huffle and made a “you’re not wrong” gesture, another bit of Juri’s writing leaking through. Huffle frowned.

It was only a small thought but she had suspicions as to how she and Juri were affecting the world by being there.

----------

After dodging through the shallows to avoid running into Jackie the three made it back to the facility. Schneep and Jamie entered through their water way while Huffle tumbled in the hatch. It took her a few minutes to work out how to get the suit off.

She got a little lost up until Schneep appeared in a water way above her and gestured for her to follow him. “Juri!” Huffle cried as she saw the room ahead of her. Huffle burst in to find the bed empty. “Juri?”

“Huffle.”

Huffle looked behind her to see Juri leaning back in a futuristic recliner chair with one foot up in the air while the other tapped the ground menacingly. Her arms were crossed.

“Shit.”

Juri seemed to be channeling her inner dark side as she grinned, “Yeah shit. So Huffy, I think we need to have a chat about leaving safe places for less than safe spaces.”

“But ocean?” Huffy whispered.

Juri stared at Huffle with a blank gaze and Huffle grimaced. “I’m dead,” Huffle commented to Jamie and Schneep who were on the other side of the glass. They waved at Huffle before swimming away to leave Huffle to her doom.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

The Symbiote|Jackieboy Man x Reader Part 2

It’s been a while, folks. But here is the second (and final) part as promised~!!!

Part 1

“Hmm...how fascinating...” Henrik mused as he watched the Symbiote crawl inside of the glass container it was confined in. It had been for several weeks now since the day Jackie removed the creature before it could corrupt him.

Now the doctor was in charge of studying it and making sure it didn’t break out. Least to say, he was intrigued by what he had found when he studied a sample of it.

Lost in his thoughts, he jumped when the Symbiote let out a slight screech, forming a small face with white eyes and sharp teeth, before it slammed itself against the wall of the container. It was a poor effort to break free. 

“Ah! You got quite a temper, don’t you?” Henrik frowned, before he picked it up, heading over to stow it back in the incubator. “No vonder Jackie vas so snappy vith me zhat night. Vell rest assure you....Dr. Schneeple vill see to it zhat a slimy son of a bitch like you doesn’t-”

As he was talking, however, he failed to notice the equipment he forgot to put away still lying on the ground, tripping over it and dropping the container. The lid broke off, freeing the Symbiote.

And the poor doctor just so happened to fall face first into the goopy puddle in that same exact moment.

It immediately bonded to him, craving a new host and seeking to regain its strength after weeks of being weakened by heat.

With a gasp Henrik sat up, trying to tear the creature off as it began to consume his head, but his screams turned into gags as some of it entered his mouth. The taste was horrendous and it made him want to vomit, although only dry heaves came out.

"Don’t resist, Doctor..” A voice in his head suddenly hissed. “I promise..this will only be temporary. But together..we can show that pathetic hero what he lost...the potential he could have had!!”

Henrik could only choke out a sob, collapsing and curling up on the floor as the Symbiote continued its takeover. He knew exactly what it wanted to do....and there was no way for him to stop it.

He watched in horror as his hand turned dark grey with long, incredibly silver claws...

Almost as thin and long as the needle of a syringe.

Once it took over his whole body, his mind was the last thing to be consumed. All rational thought flew out the window, being replaced with an satiable craving for power....and revenge.

The last cry for help Henrik could manage was a scream, which soon became melded into a vicious roar that shook the entire house. .........

“Whew..all in a day’s work,” Jack sighed as he finished recording his second video for the day.

But as he took off his headphones, that’s when he heard some kind of faint inhuman scream...or roar. “What the fuck..??” He checked his computer, wondering if it was a noise from the horror game he was playing. However he already closed out of it.

‘So it’s not the game..weird. But..why did it sound a lot like the Doc-?’

His face paled in realization, and he wasted no time in rushing to the clinic room, only to bump into you and Jackie in the hallway.

“You heard it, too?” You asked.

“Yeah,” the YouTuber nodded, before looking at his heroic ego who was already suited up. “Let’s go.”

The three of you ventured to the clinic, and upon opening the door you were greeted with a sight that looked like it came straight from a horror movie:

The light fixtures were shattered and blinking rapidly, all sorts of equipment was heavily damaged, and from floor to ceiling....the room was covered in goopy, black and dark grey Symbiote tendrils.

And curled up, facing the corner, wearing a white coat and light blue cap, was none other than the doctor.

“H-Henrik?”

The figure tensed upon hearing your voice, but he whimpered softly and lowered his head, refusing to look at you.

“[Y/n] wha...what are you doing??” Jack began, shocked as he saw you walking towards him, avoiding the tendrils and webs the best you could. Jackie didn’t move either, as he was too stunned by the surroundings.

You then crouched down behind Henrik, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He quickly looked back at you, his large triangular eyes widening. Now you could see he had on his surgical mask, too.

“It’s okay,” you comforted. “I know you’re scared. But we’re gonna help you.”

He lowered his mask, revealing his razor sharp teeth, before the Symbiote retracted just enough to reveal his terrified face to you. “N-No..” He shook his head. “Just...stay avay from me! You h-have to go!! Zh-Zhe Symbiote’s going to-”

“We’re not leaving you.” You glanced over your shoulder. “Jack, go get Marv-”

Hearing a gasp, you looked back to see Henrik’s eyes widening in horror upon noticing Jackie. Then he gave you one last look of terror, choking out a raspy “run”, before the Symbiote re-consumed him, a wicked grin now on his face.

“JACKIEBOY!!!”

Without warning he shoved you aside, springing to his feet before he lunged at the hero, tackling him to the ground. With a furious shout, he gritted his teeth, using all his strength to shove the heavy creature off of him.

“Let him go you bastard!!” He barked, standing back up with his fists clenched, eyes glowing in rage.

“Vhy did you reject our gift?” Henrik responded, cocking his head to the side. “Ve saw zhe joy in your eyes, Jackie....you vanted zhe power, zhe strength....and zhen the mere vords of your stupid friend are all it took to throw us aside!” He glowered at you, seeing that you and Jack were running for the door.

“Ah, ah, ah~” Firing a web, he managed to coat the entire door as it hardened instantly, preventing you from escaping. “Zhis time ve von’t let zhat petty magician interfere~”

Jackie scowled darkly at him. “Don’t you dare hurt them..”

“Oh, don’t worry. Our fight is not vith zhem....zhey vill simply be spectators....who vill be zhe first to vitness your downfall~! So vhy not let zhem stay and enjoy zhe show~?”

The hero merely scoffed at his words. “Wow..you need some Antidepressants there, bud?”

For a moment, Henrik tensed, recollection flashing in his eyes. But he then shook his head and let out a loud screech, his long tongue flicking out and saliva dripping from his maw.

“Heh,” Jackie mused, smirking as he stood his ground, making sure you and Jack were behind him. “You guys work on getting that door. Meanwhile...I’ll be here fighting my own personal Venom~”

..........

“How disappointing..ve vere expecting more of a challenge..” 

Henrik stared down at the hero slumped in the corner of the room, torn pieces of his suit and small puddles of blood surrounding him.

His breaths were slow and ragged, each one making him cough slightly, adding more red droplets to the puddles. A hand was also pressed to his side, trying but failing to stop the wound on his torso from bleeding.

“Th-This....i-i-isn’t..over yet...” Jackie rasped. “...I..can still-”

“Vhat?” The hybrid mocked, crouching down and grabbing hold of his hood and hair, raising his head up to he could see his torn mask, bruises, scratches, and split lip. He giggled, lightly dragging a syringe claw across his cheek. 

“You’ve lost, Jackieboy. You’ve now fully realized zhat you could have been in my place....all your enemies could’ve been zhe ones slumped over in defeat. But....”

He let go of him, standing up. “..I know I can’t actually kill you.” His gaze shifted to Jack’s, as you and him were standing by the door, trying to scrape and tear apart the webbing. “But zhere is someone ve still hold a grudge against~”

Then he shot out a tendril, which wrapped around your arm and yanked you towards the creature. Jack tried to reach after you, but it was too late. You were slammed into the creature’s body and you panicked, trying to get free.....only to freeze as he then put you in a headlock.

Jackie looked up, horrified. “N-No....NO!! LEAVE THEM ALONE!!!!” He screamed as loud as he could.

In his panic and fury, his eyes glowed and a tiny flame appeared in his hand. He threw it, intending to hit Henrik directly, although instead it set ablaze a few papers nearby.

However, just as he was trying to create another one, he heard a horrific, raspy cry. Looking up, he gasped as Henrik let go of you, staggering backwards. The Symbiote itself began to detach, trying to get its host away from the growing fire.

You quickly ran back to Jackie, crouching down beside him. “It’s weak to heat!” You whispered. “Try to make another one!”

Nodding, Jackie focused what little energy he had left into making another fireball that was bigger. He then chucked it at a few more papers strewn everywhere, effectively trapping Henrik in a ring of fire.

At that point, you could see the doctor’s face as he screamed, trying to tear the alien parasite off and break the bond.

You and Jack helped the hero stand up, letting him go as he limped over to the flailing creature. The fire cleared, allowing him to enter the ring before he reached out and grabbed his fellow ego’s shoulders.

Seeing that he would need help, you and Jack rushed forth to assist him in tearing Henrik away from the Symbiote.

And after much struggling......you finally succeeded separating the two as you stumbled backwards. The doctor was breathing shakily, his eyes lazy, but he was alive.

“We did it.” You smiled, joy swelling in your heart as you set him down in the corner of the room.

“[Y/n]...?” He mumbled, rubbing his head before he looked at you.

“Welcome back, buddy.” Jack knelt down on the other side, patting his shoulder gently. “How you feeling?”

“....very..shaken up but...other zhen that I’m..fine,” he smiled. “But vhat about....?”

However, all of your faces paled as you looked over to see Jackie passed out on the floor. The fire was completely gone, and the now massive, unmanned Symbiote towered over him, letting out several, horrific screeches.

Its wicked, sharp-toothed grin stretched into a smile as it gazed down at the unconscious hero, intending to reconsume him.

Then, out of nowhere, several small flames flew past you, striking the alien directly in its eyes, causing it to wail in pain and shrink back.

Looking over, you three saw none other than Chase and Marvin standing in the now open doorway. The father had a simple Nerf gun, which he fired once more, revealing that his foam bullets were infused with fire magic.

Upon striking the now blind Symbiote, it shrieked and began to shrink even further..until it was backed into the corner of the room as a medium-sized blob. Marvin then rushed in and began to speak an incantation.

It lunged at him, although it soon found itself trapped in a bubble, unable to escape.

“Sorry, pal,” the magician said. “But it’s lights out for you.” With the snap of his fingers, the whole interior of the bubble burst into flames, consuming the screeching and flailing creature until it gave one, final weak cry.

Once it died down, the flames and bubble dispersed, and all of you could see that there was absolutely no trace left of the Symbiote.

Finally, it was gone for good.

“Awh hell yeah that was awesome!! WOOO~!!” Chase cheered, jumping up and down like an excited kid, although he immediately stopped upon seeing the still unconscious hero on the floor.

You all wasted no time in helping him up while Marvin used a time spell to reverse all of the damage that was done to the clinic, allowing it to be hospitable again.

Jackie was set on the bed, and you assisted Henrik in setting up the equipment and IVs to get him stabilized. ..........

Several hours of surgery and a week of recovery later, Jackie was back on his feet and was out and about fighting crime once again.

You all made sure Henrik got plenty of rest after stitching up his wounds. For a few days Marvin had him meditate with him. He also tapped into his subconscious just to ensure that the Symbiote’s influence was no longer in his mind, and, thankfully, all of it was gone.

But even so the doctor still felt guilty about what happened to the point of tears, so it took you a lot of time and constant reassurances that what the creature did to Jackie was not his fault in anyway for him to stop beating himself up.

One thing was for certain, though.

The next time some weird alien species came crawling into the Septic household....

Marvin ought to be the one to contain and study it.

[wasalwaysagreatpickle]

Friday 22 May 1829

7 20/60

11 55/60

Lay musing last night a little and more this morning what to do – 

Weighing all things will send for M. Séné, and see if he will take 4000/. a year (he paying all taxes and letting us have the furniture that we have) for his apartment rue neuve Saint Augustin – sat in my little quondam bedroom till my own room was done – wrote a note to ‘The Right Reverand Bishop Luscombe’ (by the way he lives 23 Place Vendome) to say with my compliments I was sorry I did not distinctly remember whether it was today or tomorrow he was so good as promised to administer the sacrament to my aunt – then wrote a note to ‘Miss Hobart’ merely to say that as it was Friday I should send George though not expecting a letter ‘I will call myself, and leave my card for Lady Stuart De Rothesay tomorrow – as it will be late, you will, of course, be out – let me find a note to say that you really will go to Mortefontaine; for a pair of horses must be sent forwards on Sunday to meet us 1/2 way on Monday – I shall count upon finding you ready precisely at 8 – Pray let Norbury go – very truly yours AL- Friday morning’ – 

Note back from bishop Luscombe with his compliments to say it was tomorrow he would come at 1 1/2 ‘perhaps a little later’ – Note from Miss Hobart to say there was no letter for me but she had sent me hers from Sibella from which it appeared she had ‘been alarmingly ill but by her speaking of joining you here I am in hopes she felt better when she wrote’ 

Miss Maclean’s letter half a sheet in an envelope directed ‘Miss Hobart the Lord Stuart de Rothesay’ – she seems to be at Mr Longs but desires her letters to be directed still to her lodging Duke Street 

Her continual weakness and continual violent cough so reduced her she ‘could do nothing but lie on the sofa – daily thinking I really thought I was going’ – Mr Long in dismay – ‘he poked about to see if there was anything in the rooms, that could disagree with me, went to my bed, the window was wide open, stretched himself out – and came running back saying he had discovered it – and that one night longer I should not stop here – 3 servants necessaries just under my window, this being a corner house, he sent instantly for chorarate (should be chlorate) of lime and purified my room and as Mr and Mrs Crosbie come today to spend a fortnight with him he insists on my going for a few days at least till I find other lodgings I have been in a fever ever since I came here, no sleep at night, not being able to breathe, my mouth and throat parched, I thought from inward fever, but the commotion Mr Long kicked up last night made me breathe better – but he insists it will kill me to remain longer, and I think so myself’ will go for a few days to the Skinners at Richmond – trusts she may venture to Hampshire for a week – must shew herself again to her doctor ‘and then sail from the Thames to Boulogne, or what ever way I may fix on joining dear Miss Lister – but perhaps she will join me in England’ (this letter dated 19th May) ‘she does not seem to have fixed her plans, I almost wish she may come you are very naughty to scold at my poor doctor how could he or any human being prevent my having those sad complaints, or when reduced by them talking a most terrible cold which affected me from top to toe – It was the state of high inflammation I was in, in winter that made him object to my going there till it was extracted – and you say Lady S de Rothesay must leave it for the heat etc. etc. she means Paris, and mentions the Burys and others who could not bear the heat –

Poor soul! how difficult to know what to do -  but this letter is a satisfaction to me – there is an assigned and probable cause for her being so much worse of late, and this is consolation – Backwards and forwards walk with Drake about horses to Mortefontaine on Monday – if horses go one day to meet us the next, Drake must get a permit from the poste royale, and pay what would be expected of post horses – this will not do – Drake to come and speak to me – Had just written all the above of today (had breakfast about 10 or soon after, in 1/2 hour) at 12 50/60 – 

Miss Maclean concludes with ‘you must send my letter to that best of friends Miss L as I have not a comment to write by this days post’ at two and three quarters had written my letter to Miss Maclean - 

Wrote a full 1/2 sheet and 1 page of envelope to Miss Maclean. Had just had a note from Vere with her letter from Miss Maclean which was a great comfort to me – an assigned and probable cause for her being so much worse of late and I was satisfied ‘Mr Long was right not to let you remain in a place so fatal to all hope of your recovery – I now begin to breathe again and to persuade myself that, with good management, you may still be spared to us – get out of London – as Vere well observed, you cannot be worse off here, than there – If Lady Stuart de Rothesay leaves Paris during the heat of summer, who does not leave London during the same? you would be quite as well here, or better, even in August, than in London – But have we not resources here, as well as [your] all other great towns? Can we not go into the country? and, if I am rather tethered for the moment, yet I think I could continue for you – But as to the heat of Paris, much depends on management’…. how does my aunt bear it so well? Miss Maclean would be better here than she expects – try Hampshire, and then, as I said in my last, Guernsey – 

Hope we shall have got settled about another apartment in a few days – Perhaps it may suit her better to come per steam from London to Boulogne – can rest there as long as she likes ‘Oh! that you could have come with Lady Stuart whose rate of travelling I really almost think, from your letter this morning, you would be able to bear! Perhaps you would have no cough at all, as soon as you are this side of the water’ But to write and tell me what she thinks and wishes and I will do my utmost – Cannot think the Burys or anyone else can be better judges than Vere and myself – the English all ‘flock to the rue de Rivoli, the most baking street in Paris – I do remember how, even if more coolly lodged, they come to see sights, and go about all day as if there was neither sun to shine, nor earth to absorb his rays’ – she may go and sit in the Tuileries gardens – always delightful under the shade there – How do people go to Interlacken? ‘I should say, the heat of the Swiss valleys in summer is far more insupprtable than that of Paris – Vevay is a nice place – I wish you were with your friend there, till time to come here – But think, and write - … I was at the soirée last night, at the Embassy, and was really amused, and spent an hour there pleasantly enough – Vere was exceedingly kind and attentive; and you yourself would have been quite satisfied with her looks, and with all about her – she really seems to enjoy herself, and to have every reason to do so – I admire Lady Stuart de Rothesay very much – she does the honours of that magnificent hotel admirably – Just as I was coming away the Hagermans (arrived in Paris probably on Tuesday) were arriving – I should have known Madame de Hagerman] from her likeness to Mrs Foster – I saw Vere on Wednesday and expect to take her to Mortefontaine (Joseph Buonaparte’s place) on Monday – she is a very nice girl; and you have never praised her half enough – Never did 1/2 blood sisters resemble each other so little in externals – I could not help saying to myself; the Hobart and Coll were infinitely the better arrangement of the 2 – the travelling scheme is still on the tapis, but not for me to set off before next winter and to be absent for 2 or 3 years – I hope to see you well first – I have always had a presentment that Paris would do you good – But this is to try – Do what you think best – I have no wish but for the welfare and happiness, and, right or wrong as to the means of promoting them, I am, at all rates, my dearest Sibella, always and invariably affectionately and faithfully yours AL- Paris Friday 22 May 1829 – 

I had almost written the whole of the above of today at 3 10/60 when the proprietaire of No. the apartment No. 357 rue Saint Honoré came for my answer – would gladly let me the premier because a deputé wished for the 2nde and would take the little apartment à côté, but would not let it him if I would take the 2nde – would let me have it for 4500 – said with much expression of regret how sorry I was, but could not give that price – would I make an offer – declined because I knew it could not be accepted – the premier too noisy – I expected a friend, and should want the additional little room – M. – sat about 10 minutes and went away – thus there is an end of No. 357 rue Saint Honoré for me – Too expensive – it would have been madness – thus I have been saved the trouble of writing – 

Then wrote the following to Miss Hobart ‘Dear Miss Hobart. Here is Sibella’s letter back again with my best thanks – It does indeed seem that she has been alarmingly ill, and is yet far from recovered – I have written to say I wish she could have come with Lady Stuart, for both you and I think, she could not be worse off here than in London – I fear there is no chance of any change in Lady Stuart’s plans that can affect Sibella – I shall see you at 8 a.m. on Monday – truly yours AL- 

Sent off this note under cover to ‘Miss Hobart with my letter to ‘Miss Maclean of Coll 17 Duke Street Portland place’ and with her letter to Miss Hobart back again at 5 1/4 – should have sent 1 1/2 hour before but McDonald and [Cameron] gone out – 

Then found my cousin come 

Settled my accounts – Note from Madame Galvani at 4 40/60 by Pauline ‘qui doit exercer son talent chez vous trois heures par jour au echange d’une somme de 15 francs par mois Nannette repond de va probité…. McDonald went out with [Cameron] to help her to choose a gown, and they are not yet returned at 5 25/60 – so this poor Pauline fille or femme de peine (drudge) that Madame Galvani has sent has been waiting these 3/4 hour, and now that George is gone had the kitchen to herself – bonne exercise de sa probité – 

Dinner at 6 10/60 – came to my room at 8 – nap on my sofa – then wrote rough draft of index of 6, 7, and 8 May – coffee at 9 – Drake will change 75 francs for 2 pair of horses to Mortfontaine and back on Monday 1 pair to be sent forward on Sunday – came to my room at 10 – stood an hour or at least 50 minutes, reading the livre de postes, and calculating whether it would be better to have posthorses or not – no – 10 postes and 2 extra postes = 12 at 10/. (for we must have 4 horses and 2 postilions) = 120 francs – very fine day – very warm – Fahrenheit at 70˚ all the day, out of my window – Fahrenheit 60˚ now at 11 10/60 p.m. -

[transformerimagines]

Distractions (Tfa Blitzwing x reader)

It had been a long few days, as a human who worked closely with the Autobots you were often dragged into a lot of mess you would rather not worry about. You were so excited to spend the weekend out of state, you were going to visit your sister in New Orleans. That was until you were walking to your house and a napkin was placed over your mouth, sending your vision black and leaving your limbs limp.

You woke up in an abandoned warehouse tied to a chair via rope around your wrists and ankles. You could hear manically laughter in front of you so you weren’t surprised that you saw Random video calling the autobots when you opened your eyes. Bumblebee was on the other end of the call, you could see him looking very worried on the screen as he yelled at Blitzwing.

“Just let her go Blitzwing!” Bumblebee shouted at the crazy con who released another load of cackling laughter.

“Finders keeper’s, losers veepers.” Random sung down the line causing Bee to growl. At this point you decided to clear your throat so that you got the attention of the Mechs. Icy was the face you were greeted with, Random must have been subdued by his other personalities.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Bee asked worriedly as he began to look for any signs of distress. Honestly you were very chill about the entire thing, you had been kidnapped by Blitzy more times than you could count. He thought you and Bee had a thing going so assumed capturing you was the best way to torture the poor bot. Boy was he wrong.

“I’m absolutely peachy Bee, grab me a burger on your way, will you?” You yelled to your friend. This action obviously annoyed Blitzwing who now had the hot head persona front and centre.

“You vill bring zee shards or I vill kill Y/N!” Hothead roared before abruptly hanging up on Bee before her turned to face you with a glare.

“Come on Blitzy, just let me go already.” You commanded as you yanked against the restraints that held you to your place.

“You are not going anyvhere.” Icy replied before walking over to you, he dropped into a crouch before the haunting face of Random span into view.

“None of zis vould happen if you stayed vis me,” He spoke cheerily, a servo coming down to pat you lightly on the head.  “My fleshy.” He cooed to you causing a smirk to rise to you face and your eyes to roll in your head. You didn’t belong to anyone, never will and never have but this bot in front of you seemed to think differently. Your sharp tongue and witty remarks when he would kidnap you would make him angered, amused and intrigued for the different personalities. Over time, you developed a sort of Stockholm syndrome for the triple changer which you would never tell him about but you swore he knew about already.

“I belong to no man or mech and that’s just how I like it.” You told him with a small grin. If your legs weren’t tied down you would have crossed one leg over the other for dramatic effect, but this was no time for drama.

“You’re lying,” Icy came back in a flash of blue, piercing you with a stare. “Every strong voman vants a strong mech by her side.” He informed you as if it was something that everyone knew, to him it was a fact of nature. You weren’t so sure.

“And you think you’re the strong mech for me?” You asked him, a tone of amusement in your voice at what he was saying.

“Vell who else is going to put up vis you?” Hothead bellowed right into your face making you shake your head with a small chuckle. An alarm sounded through the warehouse a second or so later, the mech smiled at what the sound meant before standing in front of you in an almost protective stance as the Autobots crashed through the door. Bee was the first in due to his speed and instantly spotted you.

“Y/N!” The younger mech called to you, you threw back a smile in reply.

“Hey Bee, hope you didn’t get any lettuce on my burger.” You shouted back to Bee. Blitzwing turned to you once you finished your shout.

“Veally? That guy?” Icy asked you in a bored tone before shooting an ice beam to the advancing team. You sighed at what he said before fixing him with a glare, your voice became serious suddenly.

“I’ve told you a million times, Blitzwing. There isn’t anything going on between me and Bee.” You growled at Icy, he turned to Hothead momentarily to shoot some fire before turning to Random.

“Because he is a squirt and you crave a bad boy.” Random noted before picking up a metal bar that looked like part of a roof and throwing it towards Prowl and Bulkhead who fell from the impact. Astonishingly, Blitzwing was winning against the three autobots that was sent to rescue you. Prowl was now fully out cold, Bulkhead wasn’t far behind and Blitzwing was getting ready to land a blow on Bee who was rushing him, as per usual. Now might be the time to say something to distract him, luckily you had the perfect thing.

“Blitzwing,” You called softly in a sing song voice but he didn’t answer. “Blitzy.” You decided to whine his nickname instead. That got his attention, Random turned to you before Icy took over and nodded for you to continue what you were going to say. You fixed him with a hungry gaze, your lips parted slightly to portray breathlessness and then you started to smile.

“I will gladly have your sparklings if you want me to.” You told him with a seductive tone, your eyes never leaving him. Blitzwing was speechless, his intake dropped open and his optics even offlined for a second. That second was all that was needed for Bee to creep up behind him and land a blow with his stingers that brought Blitzwing to the floor. The yellow mech quickly ran to you and untied the ropes so that you could follow him and the others, they were faster than you were though and were out of ear shot so Blitzwing could speak to you.

“Vere you telling the truth?” Icy asked, Blitzwing was still paralysed but he was able to pin you with a longing gaze. Against your better judgement, you quickly jogged over to the fallen decepticon before leaning close to his cheek and planting a kiss just above his intake.

“Depends on how hard you tie me up next time,” You spoke lowly. “I can’t do anything with my hands tied.” You shot him a wink and waved your hand in goodbye before running back to the entrance of the abandoned warehouse were Bee was waiting with a burger ready for you.

[lavendercanister]

Beautiful

Kurt X Reader

Word Count: 891 words

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Peter gets tired of you and Kurt being shy around each other all the time and decides to do something about it.

You always knew you were different, the way people looked at you and your family when you went out in public. It wasn’t until you were 8 that you found out why. You had been at the park with your mom, playing on the swings. A little boy with shaggy brown hair had come over making you smile, since no one really wanted to play with you.

“Get off freak. I want the swing.” Your smile instantly had fallen and tears had filled your eyes.

“W-What?” You had stuttered out, nervous and hurt. He grabbed your shoulder with his hands and threw you off the swing, making you scrape your hands and knees on the ground. You cried as blood started to seep out. Suddenly, the sound of thumping feet echoed around you, and looking up you saw a deer in front of you, sniffing your face as it rubbed against your tears. It suddenly looked at the boy behind you, crying out angrily.

“How dare you hurt this youngling!” It yelled out and you were shocked as it started towards the terrified boy. Smaller animals, such as squirrels and birds, started surrounding you, all asking if you were alright. You felt a pair of hands lift you up and cup your face, your mom’s face looking worried. That’s when you noticed all the people in the area running away screaming.

“You’re alright, darling. Everything is gonna be alright.” She continued to whisper as she took you back to the car. After that day, you didn’t leave the house as much, it got even worse when you started growing horns, green like your lime colored hair, turning into full grown antlers by the time you were 15. You were so excited when you saw the mutants on TV, even though they were trying to kill the President, it showed you weren’t the only one. Your mom seemed just as excited at the thought, so when you found out a few of those mutants were opening a school, you were one of the first to try to enroll. 

Mr. Xavier seemed really happy with your mutation as well as Mr. McCoy, which made you feel even better. Though as you grew up, you wished their was someone with a physical mutation like your own, most people could hide their mutations. Their was no comparison to the feeling you got when you first saw the man of your dreams, Kurt Wagner.

He had short, heavenly soft, blue fur that you wanted to run your hands threw for hours on end. Glowing yellow eyes that were red around the outside making him seem otherworldly, Black hair with blue highlights that seemed to fit his style perfectly. A long, thin tail with a spaded tip that made you blush when you thought of all the things he could do with it, and even though he only had three fingers, all you wanted was to be able to intertwine them with your own.

“Hello,” His voice rang out and you realized you had been caught staring at him once again. You felt yourself blush as he spoke in that thick, German accent of his.

“H-Hello,” You whispered, nervously playing with your shoulder length green hair.

“J-Jou vere staring vonce again,” He spoke bashfully and you looked down at your bare feet.

“S-Sorry Kurt,” You both were too shy to really have normal conversations. Usually one of Kurt’s friends came over and saved you two. This time, it was Peter.

“Hey (Y/N), hey Kurt. What’cha guys talking about? Still can’t talk to each other? The tension between you two is crazy! Just kiss and date already!” He spoke quickly, wrapping his arm around both of your shoulders making you all squished together.

“V-Vhat?” He stuttered and you saw his tail swung sharply behind him. Peter ignored him, and in a flash, you were in a completely different spot, feeling a wave of nausea, it took you a minute to realize what Peter had done. Feeling soft fur under your finger tips, you saw Kurt lying under you looking just as shocked and awkward.

“I-I-” You tried to stutter something, but froze up once you felt a soft tail wrap around your waist, right under your shirt that rode up slightly. Kurt and you both looked at it, and you felt his tail squeeze you lightly.

“Z-Zorry, sometimes it haz a mind of itz own.” He spoke and you shrugged, smiling as you grabbed his hand in your own.

“I-I like it,” You spoke, feeling a surge of confidence as you lent down and nuzzled into his neck. Not wanting to kiss him if he was uncomfortable. His hand tightened around yours and he returned your hug.

“W-Would you…would you go out with me, mein schön Kitz?” He asked and you nodded, pulling back to peck his lips. Wolf whistles suddenly sounded and you both squeaked as Jean and Scott entered, Peter simply watching while eating Popcorn. You got off of Kurt and curled into the corner of the couch.

“What?! No! Look what you guys did! They were finally confessing!” Peter yelled angrily at Jean and Scott. After that you and Kurt stayed rather quiet though you couldn't keep the small smile off your face as you thought about your upcoming date with the handsome young man.

[ekinsellaauthor]

Laurent of Vere - Fear

Fear

My interpretation is that Laurent’s primary driving force through much of Captive Prince is fear. His control is a protective measure to mitigate his fear and there are incredible lengths he will go to in order to preserve his control.

When Laurent comes to Damen drunk, we later learn that it was the first time Laurent has been drunk in a long time and typically refuses to touch alcohol or anything that dulls his senses. It’s not completely explained, but I almost wonder if the Regent used to give Laurent wine before his abuses. This interaction is interesting, because without that knowledge it seems like Laurent is a spoiled drunk come to taunt his prisoner, but in reality we are seeing Laurent pushed to the edge. His control is gone, his coping strategies having utterly failed him after coming face to face with Auguste’s killer. Laurent is so upset that he is willing to risk his life to try and escape what he feels.

Further interactions feel like Laurent testing Damen out, asking through his orders, Show me who you are. Laurent would have built Damen up in his head as his cold-blooded monster, a murderer, removing the context of war and setting it up as Damen taking a life without circumstance, purely for bloodlust. Each interaction you can see Laurent asking Where are your limits? Laurent’s attempts at humiliating Damen are more to soothe himself, I think, to feel like he has control somewhere.

The scene with the ring is definitely still traumatizing. Here I think it’s Laurent trying to pass his own sexual abuse to Damen, indirectly. In a sort of, “Your actions allowed this to happen to me, now it will happen to you” way. When Damen later refuses to rape one of the child pets, Laurent doesn’t seem to quite understand. It’s like he’s asking Damianos why murder is acceptable to him, but rape is not. It seems like it’s one facet of the monster Laurent believed Damen to be that is being chipped away and Laurent doesn’t like it.

When Laurent has Damen attend him in the baths I find it very interesting, because there’s this giant unspoken question hovering over them. You killed my brother, will you kill me too? Show me that you’re a monster and I’m right to hate you. It could also be a sort of death wish from Laurent, standing on his edge, wondering what it would be like to have the man who took Auguste put his hands on him. Maybe he feels like it connects him to his brother, connected in a new way through Damen, Laurent facing the same danger that Auguste did. When Damen gets distracted and aroused, Laurent is instantly furious. Laurent knows how much (potential) danger he’s in at this moment and because he doesn’t know Damen as a person, he’s likely petrified that he’s going to be raped and responds to that with violence. From the baths we go to the whipping post where Laurent pours out his fear and his anger onto Damen. As awful as these actions are, it’s almost like watching a kicked dog suddenly maul. Laurent has been unable to attack the Regent, he’s suppressed everything and now Damen is here, in a position of decreased power and those years of impotent rage are dumped out. If Damen is broken then he is not dangerous and Laurent doesn’t have to be so afraid of him, of everything.  

[redneonmoons]

Mechanical Heart {Star Trek} {3}

Word Count: 1828 Edited by: @karasong (Part 1)(Part 2)

“What is your preferred drink?” asked Nurse Traxler.

“Tea.  Raspberry leaf.” I replied, walking over to the single table, sitting down and pulling up a PADD.

“Coming right up.” She smiled.

I smiled back and looked down to type into my personal account.  Once I was in I checked my file.  My face fell as I looked at what changed, or what didn’t change.  I wasn’t reported missing or taken prisoner.  Forall Starfleet knew I was still working on that ship.

“Something wrong, Mystie?” Questioned Traxler, handing me my drink.

“Yeah,” I replied, taking a sip of the tea, “I’m looking at my file and it says I’m still working on that ship.  They didn’t even report me missing.”

“You’re looking at your file now?” Traxler asked, sitting down across from me.

I looked up at her, “Well, I couldn’t do it at the Medbay.  Too crowded.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Report to Starfleet,” I said, shrugging.

“You should, but doesn’t that mean the captains of each vessel would have to talk about it to Starfleet?  And you have to give a statement.”

“Yes.  I’ll talk to Captain Kirk tomorrow.  Get my old captain’s record tainted.”

“Sounds good,” Traxler replied, finishing her drink, “I’m going to bed.  Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I said, taking another sip.

I looked at a few more things on my PADD and finished my tea.  Yawning, I got up and walked over to my bed.  Once I got in I fell asleep instantly.

~~~

I woke up with a start; sweat dripping down my forehead.  Another nightmare.  The same nightmare.  Well, almost.  Chekov was there this time… being cut up with me.  This nightmare is more uncomfortable than the last.

“Are you okay, Mystie?” Asked the nurse, worry plainly written on her face, “You were saying Chekov’s name a lot.”

“Another nightmare… he was in it this time.” I said, getting up, “Do you know where Chekov is?”

“No,” She replied, “Why?”

“I just need to see him.” I said, walking over to the computer, “Computer, where is Ensign Chekov?”

“Ensign Chekov is in Room 1989.”

“Oh, that is right next door.” Commented nurse Traxler.

“Good,” I said, walking out of the room.

I turned to room 1989 and pushed the doorbell.  I heard scrabbling and a crash followed by some swear words in Russian.  Once the door opened and I saw Chekovby:I jumped to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.  The force nearly knocked us to the ground, but we were able to keep standing.

“Are you okay?” Asked Chekov, concerned.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, realized that he apparently didn’t have time to put a shirt on.

“You coming here zays somesing different,” Chekov replied.

“I had another nightmare,” I paused, “and you were in it this time.”

“Oh.”

I looked up at him.  His face showed his worry.  His lips seemed very tempting now.

“Hmmmm,” I hummed, cocking my head.

“Vhat?”

“Your lips are very tempting at this moment.”

“Iz zat an inwitation?” He smiled, his face coming closer to mine.

I smiled and closed the space between us with a kiss.

“Hey, Chekov you’re—”

We both stopped and I turned to see Captain Kirk at the doorway.

“You know, Mystie, your room is the next one on the right.”

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Now that should be in his mouth, not pointed at me.” He smirked.

I gave him a disgusted look and sneered at him while Chekov took a huge intake of air.

“Oh, and your legs are doing something funny.” He added, walking out.

We both looked down at my legs to see the lights going from bright red to cycling through yellows and pinks.

“I need to get to vork.” Said Chekov, a bit down.

“Yeah...” I replied in the same tone, releasing Chekov from my grip.

He turned and walked over to his closet, grabbing the standard issue undershirt and shirt.  Pulling them over his head, he walked around his room looking for something.

“Где они?” He muttered.

I started looking not knowing what he needs.  My gaze lands on a single boot.  I picked it up and showed it to him

“Looking for this?”

“Da!” He said, walking over to me, “But vere iz zhe ozher?”

My eyes instantly found it on the other side of the room.

“Over there.” I pointed.

“Ah!” He answered, walking over to it, other boot in hand.

Once his boots were on, he headed out

“Dinner after my shift?” He asked.

“Yes!” I agreed happily.

He grinned then turned and started jogging to the Bridge, waving.  I waved back, wondering what I can do while waiting for Chekov.

“You two will make a cute couple.” Said a voice behind me.

I jumped and turned to see nurse Traxler already in her medical blues.  I didn’t answer, my cheeks did it for me turning a brighter shade of red.

“What is with your legs and those yellows and pinks it turns on?” She asked, silently laughing at me.

“I… think they're based on mood,” I shrugged, “Maybe.”

~~~

After exploring the ship for hours I returned to the Medbay to see Dr. McCoy.  Just as I walked in the room the ground shook.  I immediately spread my arms out to balance myself.  Then the ground shook again, making me try to catch my balance by grabbing the wall.  Red alert came on and the Medbay began to bustle with wounded coming in.

I started to panic, my legs blinking red.  I looked around trying to understand what was happening.  The noise and busyness getting to me I ran into one of the supply closets, this one having the lock inside instead of out.  I shook as I pushed myself into the corner, making myself as small as possible.

~~~

It felt like days before the shaking of the ship and noise stopped.  I was still shaking when I heard knocking on the door.

“Who’s in there?” I barely heard McCoy say.

“Mystie,” I said, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Will you let me in?” He asked.

“No.”

I heard a sigh then yelling.

“Someone get Mystie’s boyfriend.  The attack freaked her out.”

Some minutes passed before the knock came back.

“Mystie?” I heard Chekov’s sweet voice say.

I didn’t reply.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

I frowned, still too scared to open the door.  I heard buttons being pressed and the door unlocked.  I folded myself into a smaller ball as the door opened a bit.  Chekov peeked in and gave me a smile before opening the door wider and sneaking in.  He cautiously came to me and put his arms around me.  I instantly melted into his embrace.

“Zhe ship vas attacked by Klingons.  Ve took care of eet.  Eet’s safe now.” He murmured.

I grunted in return; too tired to respond with words.  

A minute passed before I took a big breath and said, “How long was the fight?”

“Little more zhen twelve hours,” Chekov replied.

“No wonder… I’m so tired.” I murmured, falling asleep.

~~~

There was something on my chest, making it slightly hard to breathe.  It was lightly snoring.   I cracked my eyes open to see Chekov fast asleep.  I lightly nudged him, but he didn’t wake up.  He’s too heavy for me to move so I just have to lay here.  Stuck.  

There were several minutes of me contemplating whether I should wake him or not.  He did have a long shift with the fight not too long ago, but then again I’m under him unable to move.  Just when I was about to push him off he stirred and turned his head to look at me.  His eyes were glazed in confusion for a couple of moments before he can to his senses and rolled off me.

“Sowry,” He said, sitting up on the bedside, “I tend to do zat sometimes.”

“Good thing my heart and lungs are made of metal.” I teased.

“Mhmm,” He answered, twisting around to me and planting a kiss on my nose.

I hummed happily as I wrapped my arms around him to pull myself into a sitting position.  

“Hey, Chekov, have you seen—” Traxler trailed off, seeing both of us.

“GET OUT!” I yelled, giggling.

“Okay, okay.” The nurse surrendered, holding her hands up and walking out.

I nuzzled up against Chekov, “I don’t ever want to get up.”

He laughed, “Me too.”

~~~

“Why didn’t you report Lieutenant [L/N] as a missing or as a prisoner, Captain Becks?” Asked Admiral Jones.

Captain Kirk had talked with Admiral Jones before getting connected to Captain Becks from the USS Prokofiev.  He also kept me out of sight of Captain Becks when he connected so Kirk can be all dramatic and such-and-such.  Admiral Jones agreed to this plan knowing there was nothing to stop Captain Kirk.

“What do you mean? Lieutenant [L/N] is here with us.” Lied Captain Becks.

“Interesting.  Your ship was attacked by an unknown alien ship wasn’t it?” Admiral Jones questioned.

“How do you know?  I didn’t report it.” Becks recoiled.

“Why didn’t you report it?” Kirk shot back.

“There was nothing to report.  No one was killed.”

“Then why was,” Kirk motioned me to move into view, “Lieutenant [L/N] found there?”

Captain Becks moved back in his chair from surprise.  He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“You have violated Starfleet protocol and you put an officer in danger.  WITHOUT EVEN REPORTING IT!” Yelled Admiral Jones.   “I-I-I,” stuttered Captain Becks.

“You will return to Starfleet headquarters and resign your position as Captain.  You can go on your way Captain Kirk, I will have Lieutenant [L/N] transfer to you.”

“Sounds good, Admiral.” Replied Kirk, the connection ending.

“Well, looks like you’re going to put me to work now huh?” I said.

“Don’t worry I’ll have you working when Chekov is.” Kirk said, “Wait, you worked on the Bridge didn’t you?”

“Yes, Captain.” I saluted.

~~~

“Chief Medic's log, Stardate: Uh… Whatever.  Mystie has begun working on the Bridge.  I don’t know how I feel about that.  She is also getting lessons on flying the damn ship.  I definitely don’t trust her with that.  I can see bad things happening if she and Chekov get control of the ship.  Oh boy, I should make a rule stating that Mystie should NEVER be allowed to have anything sharp because this time she cut her uniform pants into shorts.  Sigh.  She sure loves showing off her mechanical legs.  I heard from Nurse Traxler that Mystie doesn’t stay in her room.  She just goes next door to Chekov.  I’m happy for her.  She now has a true family.”

[fahye]

run all the lights

(this is a direct continuation of the street racers AU ficlet! it was meant to be another small ficlet and then it...grew...so I’ll stick it on AO3 as its own story tomorrow. but it was a tumblr ficlet FIRST and so it shall remain.)

***

Damen can barely see the world as anything but blurred, tunnel-vision shapes by the time his car screams across the finish line, half a length--if that--ahead of Laurent's. As he lowers his foot onto the brake, as he pulls around in a half-circle to park, as he climbs out of the car in front of a crowd falling quiet with anticipation… he can barely breathe. Part of him's back there on the track, watching the speedometer strain towards two hundred. Part of him's hearing Laurent's voice, making the offer.

He watches Laurent's car--which is his car, now--but he can't see through the windshield with the glare of lights. He wonders if Laurent will stay behind the wheel. Drive the car away in a burst of dust, disappear into the desert.

But that doesn't fit with what he's seen of Laurent de Vere so far. And sure enough, Laurent climbs out of the car as soon as the engine cuts, and strides across to stand in front of Damen. The black T-shirt clings to his chest, scooping low enough that the ends of his collarbones are visible. His skin shines with sweat. There's nothing to see in his expression.

Laurent swipes his hair back from his face. He says, watching Damen closely, "Afraid I won't honour my word? I will. I always do."

Damen says, "What, right now? In front of everyone?" He's taken aback, recoiling at the very idea; though a small, triumphant part of him whispers, just imagine, and he can. He can imagine the pale wrists in his grip, he can imagine forcing noises from that dangerous mouth, under the hungry eyes of this crowd.

Laurent colours slightly. "No," he spits. "But perhaps," with a snap of his eyes that puts all of Damen's instincts on high alert, "you'd like a taste of what you're owed."

Damen hasn't moved before Laurent is right in front of him, stepping in close, one of his hands at the back of Damen's neck to pull him down. His mouth opens beneath Damen's and Damen is only human, after all, and Laurent is like hot wire beneath his hands. He kisses Laurent back, hard and desperate, and thinks he wouldn't notice if someone crashed two trucks into one another nearby.

One of Laurent's hands worms its way between them, cupping and rubbing Damen shamelessly though the front of his jeans. Damen finally gathers himself enough to break the kiss and push Laurent back.

Several further wolf-whistles and lewd shouts emerge from the crowd. Laurent looks over his shoulder and these subside rapidly.

Damen's mind races, wondering how Laurent will play this out. Will Laurent expect to go back to Damen's place, said place being a motel room scattered with dossiers on Laurent and the rest of his crew?

"Follow me," Laurent says. He stops briefly to exchange words with Nicaise, whose glare at Damen is poisonous enough to be felt like noon glare on the face, and then climbs back into the car he's just lost for the second time.

Damen can't think of anything to do but obey.

Laurent doesn't drive any more slowly or carefully than usual, but Damen keeps his taillights easily in view, following him on a winding dirt road up through the hills, away from the flat area where the races were being held. At a distance from the artificial lights, the moon seems both larger and brighter. By the time Laurent pulls up, at what seems to be a scenic overlook of some kind, the stars are so dense as to turn the sky into tinsel.

Damen parks at an angle to Laurent and, as Laurent has, leaves his lights on before he climbs out of the car. During the drive here, the part of Damen's brain that is still an FBI agent has managed to wrestle control back from where his brainstem and his cock had contrived to grab hold of the wheel.

The sight of Laurent's ass in dark, hugging denim, as Laurent walks into the crossed spill of headlights and towards the railing at the edge of the overlook, tests that resolve.

"We don't have to do this," Damen says. Laurent stills, but doesn't turn around. "I won. All right. Give me something else instead. Give me a chance to drive for you. You know I'm looking for work, and you've seen what I can do."

Laurent turns. His face is a ghost, a mess of shadows. He is lovelier than the arm of the galaxy behind him.

"You don't want me?"

Damen says, hearing it come rough off his tongue, "You know I do."

A smile that looks like both shyness and triumph steals across Laurent's face, and is gone. Laurent tucks his fingers into the back pockets of his jeans and tilts his head.

"Look at it this way," Laurent says coolly. "It doesn't really matter what you do now. You're never going to build a case against me, Damianos."

Cold adrenalin pours down over Damen like a sponge squeezed in the nape of his neck. His heart pounds. He's alone in the dark in the middle of nowhere, with a criminal who has called him by his name.

Laurent says, "I know who you are. I know why you're here."

Damen manages, finally, "Then why would you--"

"You can't think of a reason?" Laurent's hand comes out of his back pocket, with Laurent's phone in it. Laurent thumbs rapidly and then holds it out towards Damen, who forces his feet to carry him forward. The photo on the screen is of himself and Laurent kissing. Both of them have their eyes closed; both of them look as though they would kill anyone who interrupted.

"I doubt Nicaise has a future in photography. But do you honestly think," Laurent goes on, merciless, "that anyone would believe you didn't follow me up here and fuck me breathless?"

Damen stares at the photo: the obvious position of Laurent's hand, his own arm around Laurent's slim waist. Then he looks at Laurent himself, the almost unreal beauty of him, with his lip bitten into redness and his blond hair like water under the moon.

Nobody would believe it. Damen can hardly believe it himself.

"No," says Laurent, providing his own answer. "I honour my word. There are two hundred people down there who will swear to it."

"Did you throw the races?" Damen demands. It's absurd that he should feel more angry about that idea than anything else, but there it is. "Did you let me win?"

Laurent's mouth quirks. "No," he says, and it sounds like it costs him to make the admission. "But I know how to take advantage of a situation. You should know that about me if you've done your homework, Special Agent Akielos."

The spill of panic has ebbed now, leaving Damen feeling tired and shaken. His mission is well and truly over; all that's left now is damage control. He turns on his heel, stalks back to the car, but can't make himself open the door. He braces his arms on the roof and lets his head sag between them.

"Fuck," he mutters.

"As I said," says Laurent, sounding very close. Damen jerks his head up again; Laurent, now leaning against the car, flicks him a smile. "No matter what happens now, everyone will think you've fucked me."

"I got the point," Damen growls.

"So," Laurent goes on, "there's no reason not to."

Damen stares at him, waiting for an explanation to present itself. None does.

"I don't believe you want that," Damen says.

A fine eyebrow shoots up. "Really? Do you know what you look like? And I think," Laurent says, his voice lightening oddly, "that you would give me a good ride."

Something dangerous and fatalistic is stealing through Damen's veins. Laurent is right. There's nothing more to be lost here. Even if someone is waiting in the shadows with a video camera, the additional evidence would hardly be any more damning.

Laurent reaches up and puts his hand at the side of Damen's neck, shifts closer and presses his body against Damen's. Tilts up his incredible face.

He says, soft, "Tell me you don't want me, Damianos."

The click of a lighter within Damen's chest turns, in an instant, to true flame. He moves, trapping Laurent between himself and the car, pressing him into glass and metal, kissing him and kissing him, mad with how good it feels.

This is absurd. This is a challenge: the sheer stupid fact that Laurent would fuck him knowing that Damen has come here to put him in prison. That Damen would fuck Laurent, knowing that Laurent will ruin him. The whole heady disaster of it feels like aiming your car at a canyon edge and throwing the throttle open, trusting in luck and combustion to get you to the other side. Knowing that at least the crash will be legendary, spectacular, if you fail.

Laurent, beneath him, is surprisingly willing to be led. He doesn't try to seize control of the kiss. He opens sweetly; he tastes like night air and neon. Damen has the growing urge to surprise Laurent, who has had the upper hand all along. He wants to do something to wipe away that cool, superior expression.

"Backseat," he says, onto Laurent's mouth. He fumbles blindly and gets the door open. Laurent falls more than climbs into the car, and Damen follows him, climbing between Laurent's spread legs and kissing him one more time before sitting back and getting to work on the fastening of Laurent's jeans. Laurent's stomach, flat and flawless white in the darkness, heaves with unsteady breaths as his hands first try to help Damen, then form fists by his sides.

It's an awkward fit, trying to curl his body in the space available. But Damen keeps one foot on the ground outside the car, tugs Laurent's jeans and underwear down just enough for Laurent's cock to spring free, and then lowers his head.

He wanted surprise, and he gets it. Laurent reacts instantly to Damen's mouth on him, all soft broken noises and shivery jerks of his hips, singing for Damen like the sweetest engine purr. He comes more quickly than Damen expected.

Thinking of the upholstery, Damen swallows.

Damen wipes his mouth on the back of his hand as he pulls gently away. He feels smug, in an obscure way, like he's wrestled back some of his dignity. But he glances up into Laurent's wide, shadowed eyes and remembers with a start that Laurent is only twenty, and that nowhere in the dossier was there any mention of past relationships, even casual ones.

"Have you done this before?" Damen asks.

Laurent's face tightens. He gathers himself visibly, pushes himself into a sitting position, and reaches out to bury the fingers of one hand in Damen's hair. He drags Damen across the seat and kisses him, slow and thorough. "Do you have--?"

"Did I, the FBI agent, bring condoms and lube to a street race?" Damen says. "Strangely enough, I did not. You're the one who made the bet."

"I did," Laurent says. He holds Damen's gaze.

Damen, suddenly annoyed by how little he can see, reaches between the front seats and around the steering wheel to turn off the headlights. He hits the interior light instead, a startling spill of yellow illumination that banishes the world around them to darkness. The world is in here. Laurent, now easing his pants back up over his hips, has parted lips and mussed hair and an expression that turns, like a flipped switch, determined.

"Right," Laurent says.

It's far better than it has any right to be: Laurent stretched out on top of him, Damen's knees bent up and his head nearly off the seat, Laurent's hand working him fast and dry. Damen grabs at the back of Laurent's neck as his orgasm roars towards a finish; he buries his face in the hollow of Laurent's neck and shoulder and gasps, his hips bucking as Laurent strokes him through it, his teeth grazing Laurent's fine skin. He can't think. He wants to peel Laurent out of his clothes and have him slowly, tenderly, watching for those deadly eyes to flutter shut. He wants to race Laurent down abandoned streets.

Laurent makes a breathy sound of satisfaction and then collapses as if he's the one who just came, his head shoved up under Damen's jaw, his cheek on Damen's chest. Damen's harsh breathing disturbs Laurent's hair. A strange, giddy tenderness is spreading beneath Damen's skin. Before he can think better of it he lifts his head, tilts Laurent's face up to his, and kisses him. It's the same sweet, artless kiss as before.

"Now what?" Damen says, helplessly. Laurent's plans have dragged them thus far. Part of him is absurdly hoping that Laurent has a plan for what he should do now.

Laurent yawns. "Can I have my car back?"

"No," says Damen, automatically.

"Are you still looking for work?"

"No," says Damen, then actually stops to think about his options. He can go back to the office and explain, somehow, that his mission to infiltrate the de Vere crew is over before it's properly begun; that Laurent is smarter and faster and better than they'd thought, and that Damen has managed to breach at least five different pieces of protocol. He'll be reprimanded, and then reassigned. The promising career that was left in the dust when Nicaise took that picture can probably still be salvaged, with some effort, and time.

Or...what? Disappear into the desert night with Laurent and spend his life racing, racing, driving just fast enough to escape a life that now seems dull in comparison?

"This is insane," he says, but he can hear the wonder in his own voice.

"You were right; I've seen what you can do," Laurent says. The cool confidence is back. "You like the thrill of it more than anything else. Tell me I'm wrong."

Tell me you don't want me. The cadence is the same. The truth of it is the same.

"You're not wrong," Damen says.

Laurent twists in his arms and looks down at him. He touches Damen's mouth, and then jerks his fingers away, as if he didn't realise he was doing it.

"I suppose I could consider you on probation," Laurent says. "Betray me and I'll put the bullet in you myself."

Not betray us. Betray me.

"I honour my word as well," Damen says.

"Good," says Laurent. "Speaking of which, our bet still stands. We'll have to do something about that, when we get back to the garage."

"What?" Damen furrows his brow.

"You've got two perfectly good cars, and you still haven't fucked me over the hood of either of them."

Damen stares at him.

"Just saying," Laurent says.