#we reached a compromise where she gave us the last appointments of the day

[ssaalexblake]

Booking jabs for three people, all at the same time, double shot, one of whom is disabled and has issues getting into the local jab clinic is. An experience.

I assure you, as his carer, I know more about what he can and cannot do with his disability than you do random medical secretary 🙃 I don't care when or where you jab Me but lol it's my job to make sure you're able to jab him and you're not making it easy for me 😑

[berriusagi]

Stomach Bug Ch10

Doctor’s Visit

Alright I am back with another chapter and with this I bring something special. I want all of you to help me decide what our lovely Mari will be having so place your votes in the poll. 

LINK REMOVED

Thank you to everyone who voted I’ll be using the results gathered and I hope everyone’s happy with what the final tally was.

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“Damian’s not home right?” Tim asked, making his way into the Batcave where all the other bats sans Damian were sitting around the computer.

“No, tomorrow’s pixies first appointment with that new doctor so he decided to stay the night to give her moral support since she’s never been to a gyno before.” Jason said looking up from the files he was reading over, “honestly from what I’ve heard about what happens during those exams I don’t blame her for wanting a little support before going.”

“It’s all routine and can’t be any worse than the baby-making process.” Dick hummed typing away on the computer.

“I think that’s enough talk about that; why did you want to know Tim?” Bruce asked looking over at his second youngest.

“I found more info on Marinette thought I’d share with you all while Damian wasn’t here to stop me or compromise the data,” he explained walking over to the bat computer connecting his laptop to it.

The other men all sat silently around waiting for Tim to begin his presentation as he sorted through different encrypted files before bringing up a few pictures. “To begin her original name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and her parents were bakers back in France, Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng,” Tim said pointing them out.

“Marinette told me they essentially kicked her out,” Bruce said crossing his arms, “They believed the words of some liar and threw her out. She lived with a friend her last year in Paris before moving here.”

“Wait, hold on,” Dick said turning to Bruce, “Her parents kicked her out when she was still a minor? Isn’t that illegal?”

“Yes, and they knew that, she mentioned that when she told her grandmother she came and took custody from her parents, who seemed more than happy to hand it over, and let her stay to finish out that school year with a friend then moved here to finish out her schooling.” Bruce nodded.

“Yeah that all tracks to what I found,” Tim nodded, showing them documents next, “I have here the transfer of custody, her transcript for moving here, as well as the adoption papers for Ivy and Harley. I also went ahead and started running some background checks on the people still in her phone.” he added typing away.

“Anyone, we should be worried about?” Jason asked leaning back in his seat content to just watching Tim work, “She told me a bit about one of her friends’ guy seemed a bit sketch when he was a Paris hero though now I think he’s meh but never got a name from her.”

“You said he was one of the heroes?” Tim asked looking over at Jason.

“Yeah, she said he gave up his miraculous after the fight because his dad was the villain and he didn’t think Ladybug would want anything to do with him if she found out who he was so he bit the bullet and gave it up. He left Paris shortly after to live with his aunt.” Jason said looking around at the others.

“If the villain were outed then it’d be easy to find out who his son was,” Tim said, turning back to the computer the clicking of keys filling the Batcave as he searched through multiple French websites. The other three just watched as screen after screen flew by before settling on a trashy tabloid-like website.

“I don’t think this is what could be considered a credible source Timmy,” Dick winced looking over all the clickbait titles and the like to dislike ratio on the articles.

“No, but it does have quite a bit on the Paris heroes,” Tim said scrolling through to articles that had more likes and seemed of better quality, “here we go, Hawkmoth Defeated: How a Recluse Held Paris Hostage.”

The four men all leaned forward reading through the article that detailed the final battle between Hawkmoth and the Paris Heroes with a written description of what happened as well as a video that seemed to have been taken from a mix of sources and spliced together. The article detailed what Hawkmoth had been doing for three years and in the end, revealed him and his accomplice to be Gabriel Agrest and his assistant Nathalie Sancoeur.

“So we know that Gabriel Agrest was the big bad so who was his kid?” Jason asked as Tim typed away.

“Adrien Agrest, teen model for the Agrest Fashion Label. Looks like after his dad got taken down he had to go through months of interrogations and court hearings just to prove his innocence. His mother was found dead in the Agrest Mansion and with no one else it looks like his aunt took him in once he was cleared.” Tim said reading through the files he dug up.

“That would mean he probably gave his miraculous to Pixie right after he was cleared. If he was going to do something sketch he’d just hold onto it.” Jason said.

“He probably was so messed up after the battle he didn’t want any connection to the miraculous I mean his father turned evil because of them.” Dick hummed crossing his arms.

The four fell silent as they took in the information they had received, “Well Tim you got anything on that liar?” Jason asked, tilting his head.

“This whole blog is about that liar.” Tim said motioning to the tabloid, “I’ll email you guys the link and read it at your own pace there is years of garbage on here.”

“Then with that, I think we should all be heading out. We'll go over more of what Tim found later for now we should get to work,” Bruce said, getting to his feet and moving to change into his costume.

The other three nodded as Tim packed up his laptop and stored it away before they all got dressed and took their way out of the cave to begin their nightly rounds.

~.~.~.~

“So what do you think they found?” Marinette asked cuddled up to Damian's side on her bed with the hyenas crowded around them on either side resting their heads over their laps, “Chloe didn’t exactly hold back on mentioning certain names.”

“I would be surprised if Drake didn’t have an entire dossier on all your friends.” Damian said rubbing Marinette’s back, “You know he probably took all your contact info right?”

“Yeah oh well,” she shrugged turning to bury her face into his neck, “They were bound to find out eventually, might as well let some of the greatest detectives around have some fun piecing my life together.”

Damian hummed closing his eyes as he relaxed back into the plush pillows covering Marinette’s bed, “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” he asked.

“A little,” she sighed tightening her grip on his shirt, “Mum told me what to expect and said she’d sit in the room with me if I wanted her to, you can’t exactly join me since we can’t have this whole thing getting out.”

“I’ll be waiting here for you when you get home don’t worry,” he said kissing her forehead, “now try to get some sleep you barely got any at the manor.”

Marinette nodded letting out a deep sigh as she shifted around to get comfortable between Damian and the hyenas. Eventually, she settled down and dozed off into a dreamless sleep with Damian rubbing her back and the familiar weight of Bud’s head on her hip.

Damian stayed up for a bit longer listening to the quiet sounds around and thinking over what to do for the next day. He eventually made his way into a dreamless sleep as well a bit after one AM when he finally managed to shut his mind off.

~.~.~.~

“Marigold are you ready?” Ivy called from the kitchen as she looked through her back to make sure she had everything.

“Almost,” Marinette said, coming out in a comfortable knit sweater and skinny jeans, “I was looking for my purse. I think Lou took it,” she said, looking around in the usual spots for her bag.

“I’ll keep your wallet and Tiki in my bag we have to get going,” Ivy said, grabbing Marinette’s wallet off the counter and stowing it in her bag as Tiki flew over and settled into the bag as well giving Ivy a nod to close the bag once she was comfortable.

Marinette nodded and went back to her room grabbing her phone quickly checking it before putting it away in her pocket and leaned down kissing Damian’s cheek as he groaned slowly blinking his eyes open. “I’m leaving I’ll text you when we’re on our way back.”

“Okay habibti call me if you need me.” he yawned reaching up and pulled her down for a kiss, “good luck with your appointment I’ll see you after.”

Marinette nodded kissing him again as Ivy shouted for Marinette that they were leaving. She gave Damian another quick peck on the lips before pulling back and ran out to meet Ivy at the door. “Had to get my phone.” she smiled stepping out of the apartment and waited as Ivy locked up and ushered down to the cab waiting outside.

“Now remember Marigold just relax and everything will go smoothly, it will be uncomfortable but it won’t hurt okay.” Ivy said, settling into the cab beside Marinette and rubbing her back, “I can sit inside the room with you if need me to.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” Marinette said, taking a few calming breaths as they made their way to the doctor’s office. Once they arrived Marinette was starting to look a little green as they went through the check-in process and filled out their info.

Waiting for her name to be called felt like an eternity and her stomach was twisting into knots as she watched other women come and go through the office. Marinette sat there twisting her fingers in her sweater and took slow deep breaths trying to calm herself when the door opened, “Marinette?” a nurse called.

Marinette shot up her face going from pale to a deep red as she made her way to the nurse. The nurse smiled and ushered her inside and went about getting her blood pressure, “Hmm little elevated but I think it could just be your nerves.” the nurse smiled, and her height and weight.

“Alright girly so here’s your room I’m going to need you to completely strip down underwear and all then put this paper gown on opening to the front and here’s a privacy blanket for your legs.” the nurse said motioning to the items on the bed, “the doctor will be in here shortly.”

Marinette nodded as the nurse closed the door leaving her alone, “It’s just a check-up.” Marinette mumbled undressing and taking her time to carefully fold her clothes and set them on the table in the corner of the room. She put on the provided gown and settled on the table keeping her phone clenched tightly in her hand as she waited for the doctor to arrive.

It felt like an eternity when there was a knock at the door and the doctor stepped in, a petite redhead with a smattering of freckles covering her pale face, “Hello Miss Marinette I’m Doctor Amelia.” she smiled coming over to shake Marinette’s hand, “I see you’re here for a wellness exam and you’re expecting.”

“Uh yes,” Marinette coughed her voice, cracking a bit from her nerves, “I uh just found out a few weeks ago.” she blushed, gripping the paper blanket covering her legs.

Doctor Amelia nodded looking over the file, “This is your first-ever wellness exam yes?” she asked, taking a seat.

Marinette nodded keeping her head bowed trying to not let her nerves take over her.

“Okay sweetie we’ll go at your pace so just relax okay.” Doctor Amelia smiled setting the file aside and grabbed her stethoscope.

~.~.~.~

The entire exam didn’t take more than five minutes before the doctor was cleaning up and stepping out to give Marinette some privacy to redress. Marinette wasted no time pulling her clothes back on and sending Damian a text saying, ‘Making this baby was less violating than that.’ before putting her phone in her pocket as there was another knock, “Miss Marinette if you're ready you can go to the front and schedule the next appointment.” Doctor Amelia said through the door.

Marinette walked over opening the door her face still a bit flushed, “Okay uh when should I come back next?” she asked.

“I think in a month should be enough time and we should be able to hear the heartbeat by then.” she smiled, “Your moms waiting for you upfront, and here’s the card to one of my nurses if you have any questions feel free to call her okay.”

“Thank you.” Marinette nodded, taking the card and quickly went to the front to meet back up with Ivy and schedule the next appointment and made their way out to walk back home.

“I think we should pick up some breakfast.” Ivy smiled putting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder as they walked. “There’s a nice little bakery around the corner should we pick up something from there?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Marinette nodded following Ivy down to the bakery and got in line looking over the different pastries they had for sale. Between the two of them, they picked out an array of sweet and savory options with Marinette making sure to pick out some vegetarian options for Damian. Soon they were walking out with two large bags and were walking down the street back to their home.

Upon entering both had to hold their bags of treats high out the reach of Bud and Lou trying hard to reach the goodies hidden away. Harley quickly came over pulling them back by their collars so the two could set the bags down in the kitchen.

Damian was settled at the table and got up coming over to help them unpack as Harley got some coffee and tea going as they all settled down to enjoy a bit of a late breakfast. Marinette ate her croissants and fruit danish taking small bites so as not to upset her stomach any further. The small group spoke of anything and everything as they enjoyed their meal. Harley taking the time to pick out the meat from her sandwich to give to the two hyenas and Damian holding a small conversation with Tiki as she munched on the cookies Marinette picked out.

“So when are you going back?” Harley asked looking over at Marinette as she bit into her bagel.

“In a month, the doctor said we should be able to hear the heartbeat by then,” Marinette said, finishing off her danish, “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You’ll be fine Marigold we’re here for you every step.” Ivy smiled ruffling her hair, “Now I think you should go lay down, maybe settle your stomach and your nerves. You were looking a bit green and tense after your appointment.”

Marinette nodded, finishing her tea and croissant before heading back to her room to lay down. Damian finished off his breakfast quickly and excused himself before following Marinette leaving the two sirens and the small goddess at the table.

“At least he’s good for our little Mari.” Harley hummed sipping her coffee, “So long as he makes her happy he can stick around I guess but not too sure I forgive him for knocking our baby up.”

“Oh, now you don’t like him?” Ivy chuckled, raising her eyebrow at her.

“Oh, I adore the kid but you know one of us has to give him the shovel talk eventually.” Harley chuckled getting up to clean the dishes and put the leftovers away.

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@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm  @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth @eliza-bich @solangelo252 @icerosecrystal @heinrode @Junarvion

@babylovebug18 @animegirlweeb @corporeal-terrestrial

[luna-redamancy]

Kili x Female Reader (Safe and Sound)

Summary: After a believing he almost lost you, Kili decides he needs to be as close as possible to you. 

Note: Combining my angsty thoughts and the imagine: “Imagine being Kili’s first time” by @thefandomimagine​ so this fic is 18+. Please do not read if you are a minor.  Also! Thank you @legolaslovely​ for helping me find the link to the imagine 

“Kili!” You shout out as you search the silent battlefield. You prayed each time you turned a dead dwarf over that it wasn’t Kili’s dead eyes that were going to look back at you. Remembering Dain explaining the plan to take Ravenhill and kill Azog, you felt sick. “No…” You mumbled, beginning to race up the snowy rocks to Ravenhill, just hoping to avoid the worse case scenario. 

“Kili!” You called out again, your eyes beginning to blur with tears as your senses were overwhelmed with the sight of the blood, the sound of snow crunching beneath your feet. 

“Where are you, my love?” You whimpered as you carefully maneuvered around dead goblin bodies.

“(Y/n)!” Kili yelled out, searching for you through Dale, desperately wanting to hear the sound of your voice calling back to him. 

“Kili?” Bofur called out, relief in his voice. “You’re alive!” 

“Where’s (Y/n)?” Kili demanded, the feeling of losing his One overwhelming him as Bofur’s face turned grim. “We haven’t been able to find her.” 

“Where have you not looked?” 

“We have been searching everywhere, Dale was the last place we haven’t searched.” Bofur explained, a frown settling deep on his face as Kili felt tears rush to his eyes.

“No… She must be somewhere.” His tone was convincing, mostly trying to convince himself to banish the thought of you laying in a pool of your own blood, crying out for him in your last moments. 

“She must be... “ 

As the sun began to sink behind the clouds, you shivered, clutching your jacket closer to you as the icy winds began to whip your skin. 

Deciding to give up for the night, you began to return to Erebor, your knees protesting your movement as you felt the soreness of the battle finally taking you in its clutches; Your adrenaline wearing off. 

“I will find you.” You vowed, looking across the plain of dead bodies one more time, the only reassurance you gave yourself was knowing that he wouldn’t want you destroying your health by trying to find him. 

As you slunk into Erebor, you sighed at the sight of the warm fire in the entrance. Not even making it all the way inside, where you heard the Company members talking, you sat next to it, basking in the warmth that began to thaw your cold fingertips. You weren’t ready to face the Company just yet, the looks of pity when you would tell them that you couldn’t find Kili, or the angered look of Thorin that you weren’t still out there looking. 

Sighing again, you took off your boots, popping your toes before stretching them out. 

“Kili, you must rest. (Y/n) wouldn’t want you to kill yourself trying to find her body!” Fili tried to persuade Kili to stay inside, to get a good meal and rest before going out to search for you again. 

“She’s my One, I must.” Kili’s voice had a tone of finality to it, removing his brother’s hand from his shoulder. “I know you are concerned, brother, but I must.” Kili’s eyes almost began to tear up again as he thought of you sitting out there, just waiting for him to find you and bring you home. Injured, unable to move. 

“Okay… Just take a thicker coat and a torch at least,” Fili compromised, smiling sadly when Kili nodded. 

“I will.” Kili lied as he left the dining room, his pace quick as he raced to the entrance. 

“Alright (Y/n)... You can’t hide up here forever,” You told yourself as you began to put your boots back on, knowing you would have to tell at least Bilbo that you were okay. 

Hearing footsteps, you looked toward the sound, “Bilbo is that you?” You called out, not getting up from the floor just yet. 

Kili stopped in his tracks, your voice melodic in his ears as tears began to spring in his eyes. You were alive. 

“(Y/n)?” Kili called back, racing up the steps to find you. 

“Kili!” You cried out once you saw his face, dirty with blood smears and developing bruises, but alive. 

Scrambling to your feet you raced toward him as he did the same, bringing you into his arms as he buried his face in your hair. “Oh bless Mahal…” Kili cried, holding you tight as you buried your face in his neck. 

“I thought I lost you,” You sobbed as you clutched onto him, fearing that you'd blink and he’d be gone.  

“I thought the worst when Bofur said they couldn’t find you,” Kili whimpered as he inhaled the scent of your hair, trying to force himself to recognize that you were truly in his arms. 

“I’m here,” You cooed to him, pulling away slightly to cup his cheek, “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” You promised, your eyes fluttering shut as he pressed his lips against your own. The sweet moment was interrupted by the sound of your stomach growling. Having been searching for Kili all day, you never had time to eat.

“We need to find you something to eat,” Kili’s tone was laced in concern as he led you down the stairs to the dining room where the rest of the Company was. 

“You’re alive!” Bofur yelled out, glee on his face as the Company began to cheer at your safe return.

“Alive but starving,” You joked as Kili pulled out a chair for you to sit on. Sending him a smile you sat down, only to frown as he scurried away, stinging your heart in the process. 

“Where were you all this time?” Bilbo questioned, wanting to know all about where you were like a concerned mother. “I was looking for Kili,” You explained, “I couldn’t find him anywhere.” 

“And we couldn’t find you,” Fili pitched in. “Seems like we were going in circles around each other,” You tried to give a light laugh, only for it to sound sad and heartbroken. 

Looking around for Kili, you felt your frown deepen as the urge to go find him struck you again. You felt as though you were going to question your own sanity, if you were perceiving reality correctly and Kili was truly alive. 

Your thoughts were silenced as Kili came back into the room, carrying a plate of food and cup of water for you. Relief filled you, banishing your anxiety as Kili sat next to you, his thighs touching yours as he placed the food in front of you. “Here you are,” He pressed a kiss to your temple causing a small smile to form on your face. 

“Thank you,” You turned your head to kiss his cheek before beginning to eat, feeling his hand travel to hold the one you weren’t using to eat. Rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, Kili’s brow furrowed, indicating he was deep in thought.  

Squeezing his hand back to provide reassurance, you blew on the steaming piece of potato before putting it in your mouth, chewing with a smile when Kili squeezed your hand back. 

After having your full, you pushed the plate away as Kili took that moment to press kisses to your cheeks. Reaching to cup his cheek, you laughed as dirt flaked away from his cheek. “I think we both could use a bath.” You suggested, to which he agreed with you, noting the grime on your arms and face from battling and then searching for him for hours on end. 

Bidding a goodnight to everyone, you two left the dining room. Once you were out into the hallway, Kili lifted you up bridal style in his arms, causing you to squeak in surprise before beaming at him as he carried you down to a room that Thorin appointed to the two of you. 

Kili laid you on the freshly made bed, having to completely wash all the bedding when they got to Erebor before they could use it. Once Kili pulled away from you, you developed that feeling in your gut again, the feeling of losing him. Reaching out to grasp his hand, he turned to you confused, but once seeing your expression his expression softened. 

“I’m right here,” He cooed, reaching to put a piece of hair behind your ear. “I just need to go fill the basin,” He explained, pressing a kiss to your lips before you release your hold on him, letting him leave to the bathroom to fill the tub.

Nodding, you focused on the sound of the water filling the tub, the beginning fragrance of lavender filling your nostrils. Before you knew it, he was back, leading you to the bathroom and carefully disrobing you. 

“Did you get injured anywhere?” Kili questioned, keeping his eyes trained on your face as you became bare before him. “I think I have a few cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious,” You explained, seeing the concern on his face. “It was a war, Ki… We were both going to get hurt no matter how hard we try to avoid it,” You reassured him, moving closer to lightly thud your forehead against his. 

“I know... “ He sighed, “I just never want to see you in pain,” Kili mumbled, rubbing his nose against yours. Smiling, you gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. “I know,” You repeated his words, “I am the same way,” You murmured before pulling away to let him undress, moving to step into the tub. 

Sinking into the hot water with a hiss at the stinging of your cuts, you let your eyes wander across the cuts on Kili’s skin. “Anything we need to get Oin for?” You questioned as he too sunk into the water. “I just need you,” He responded, tugging you into his lap. 

Grabbing the wash cloth, you dipped it in the water before rubbing the soap against it until it became a foamy lather. Instead of responding, you began to wash down his neck and chest before rinsing it and pressing a kiss to his collar to show him you were here, and that you weren’t going anywhere. 

Kili slowly pushed you away, indicating for you to turn around and lean your head back. Grabbing the small cup, Kili began to scoop water onto your hair until it became soaked enough for him to wash it. 

Letting out a sigh, you sunk into his hands as he lightly massaged your scalp before rinsing your hair once more. 

“I love you,” You broke the comfortable silence, barely realizing now that the last thing you told Kili before he separated from you wasn’t your love for him. He could have died and never got to hear those words again. Feeling tears come up to your eyes again, you wiped them, grateful that your back was to him. 

“Menu tessu, men Iananubukhs (You mean everything to me, I love you).” Kili responded, the same realization hitting him as he pulled you closer to him, his vision becoming blurry as he pressed kisses into your skin. 

As the two of you finished bathing, the air felt tense, like you both were waiting for something to happen as you dried off and laid in bed. 

Looking to Kili, you found him already staring back at you. Becoming overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him, you leaned forward and captured his lips in yours with a sense of urgency, his hand reaching up to hold the nape of your neck, the other to grasp your waist and pull you closer to him. 

As the two of you kissed, Kili rolled on top of you, wanting to be as close as possible to you. 

“I love you,” He murmured as he began to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck. 

“And I love you,” You responded as he began to mouth at the swell of your breasts. 

“Wait,” You stopped him, lightly pushing on his shoulders causing him to freeze and snap his head up to look at you with a panic you’ve never seen on his face before.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, pulling off of you like your skin was stinging him. 

“I know this would be your first time Kili, are you sure you want to do this? With me?” You questioned, wanting to be one hundred percent sure that he was aware of what he was about to do. 

Kili frowned slightly, leaning forward to bump his head against yours. “I love you, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life, amrâlimê.” He began before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“I want to memorize every part of you, engrain you into my memory…” His words made your heart catch in your throat, realizing he meant that if he ever lost you, he would want to remember you. 

“Kili…” You murmured, not quite having your voice after a statement like that, causing him to give you a soft smile. “I want to make love to you, (Y/n), will you allow me to do so?” 

Not trusting your voice anymore, you nodded, giving him a toothy grin as he returned it with one of his own, capturing your lips in his once more. 

He broke off the kiss to drag kisses down your chest once more, his eyes catching yours for permission as he reached your breasts again, waiting for you to give him the okay to continue. Nodding, you threaded your fingers in his hair, lovingly scratching on his scalp as he gave you a nervous smile, kissing your chest once more before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

Kili decided to use your sounds as a way to gauge whether he was doing this correctly or not, his eyes flickering to your face constantly to see if you were okay as he played with your breasts, your moans being a symphony he wanted to hear every night if he could. Switching to the next stiff bud, he licked at it teasingly before enveloping it with his mouth, your pleasured sigh making his heart race.  

“Kurdel (Heart of all hearts)” You heard him murmur, making your heart flutter as he kissed down your ribcage, to your stomach, and to the top of your mound. 

“Sanâzyung (perfect pure/true love)” He mumbled into your skin, taking note of every (freckle, bump, beauty mark, stretch mark) and battle scar that littered across your skin. “So beautiful,” He commented in common tongue, before looking up at you, “Is this okay?”

Nodding you let out a nervous laugh. This wasn’t your first time, but the way Kili was treating you definitely made you feel like it was.

“Definitely,” You realized he was waiting for a verbal cue before he nodded, flicking his tongue out to lick his bottom lip as he spread your outer lips. “Wow….” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but his response to his first time seeing a woman’s parts made you laugh, covering your face as your chest shook with your laughter. 

“Wow?” You questioned him, as he blushed and hid his face in your thigh, laughing with you. “You know I’ve never done this before,” Kili teasingly glared at you, his joking personality coming back for a brief moment. 

“Teach me how to please you, Uzfakuh (my greatest joy).” 

A blush rose on your face this time, letting out a nervous laugh, realizing his hands were still holding you open. Reaching down with your own hand, you swirled your finger tip around your arousal before bringing it up to your clit and rubbing it slowly, a pleased moan leaving your lips. 

“This is the special pearl,” He commented, making you laugh once more while nodding, “The clitoris, yes,” You nodded again, before pulling your hand away. 

Kili furrowed his brows for a moment before looking at you mischievously, taking a bold move and licking a thick stripe up your slit. “Oh my goodness,” You gasped out as he began lapping at your sex. 

“I thought you said you’ve never done this before!?”

“Oin made me read lots of interesting books when he found out we were courting,” Kili winked at you before getting back to his ravishing of you. 

His tongue became stiff against your clit, lapping at it up and down with a quick succession, making you grip at his hair once again. 

“Kili!” You called out in a warning tone, but that was lost out in the sound of your moaning, your orgasm quickly approaching as he gathered some of your wetness with his thumb, rubbing circles over your clit as he removed his mouth. 

“Can I try putting a finger inside?” He questioned, curiously, causing you to flush, remembering that he is indeed a virgin. 

“Yes,” You murmured, not being able to focus clearly while he was bringing you to the brink of your orgasm. 

Returning his mouth to your clit, he began sucking as he slowly slid a finger inside of you, pumping it experimentally before sliding another in. Feeling you tighten around his fingers, Kili took that as a good sign as your moans grew higher in pitch. 

Trying to pull his fingers out of you, Kili furrowed his brow when it felt like your pussy was keeping them in, wiggling them to try and get them out, he froze when you released a loud moan, his fingers coincidentally brushing over your g-spot as you came on his face.

 “Kili!” You yelled out as he kept sucking on your now oversensitive clit, “S-stop,” You gasped out, lightly pushing at his face to shut your legs from his eager lips. 

“Did I do a good job?” He teased, wiping some of your juices off his face. 

Laughing you laid back on the pillows, “I find it very hard to believe you learned that from books…” You murmured as he slid in between your legs to rest his head on your chest. “I followed your lead,” He mumbled back, pressing a kiss over your heart before resting his ear over it, the sound of your heartbeat soothing him. 

Stroking his hair, you sighed happily before he shifted, causing you to notice the hardness between your legs. “Now we need to take care of you,” You flushed as you spoke, feeling the girth of him against your thigh. 

“We can wait--” Kili’s words died in his throat as you began stroking him. 

“I want to feel you, Kili,” You captured his lips in yours once more with a passionate kiss, the words ‘I almost lost you’ flaring in your head over and over as you lined him up to your entrance. 

“Do you want this?” You stopped yourself from being selfish, needing to know he still wanted to go through with this. 

“Mahal… Yes,” Kili confirmed as he propped himself up above you, his braids dangling in your face as he slipped inside you, watching your face for any hint of discomfort as he bottomed out, your mouth opening in a silent moan as he stretched you. 

Leaning down to give you a kiss, you sighed as his weight against you provided a much needed comfort after the day you both had, relishing in the feel of his skin against yours. 

As Kili began to thrust, he kept his forehead against yours, zoning in on you and you alone as you maintained eye contact with him despite every fiber in your being wanting to shut your eyes and just feel him.

You needed to know he was there. 

“My atamanel (breath of all breaths)...” Kili panted out as his pace sped up, chasing his release as you began to tip into the realm of having another one. 

“Ki--” You moan died off as you came once more, your hands clutching at his back.

“I love you,” Kili buried his face in your neck as he pulled out to release on your stomach, remembering Oin’s voice in his head saying ‘once is enough to create a babe’. 

As you both lay there panting, you looked to his exhausted face, finding him struggling to keep his eyes open. “I love you too,” You whispered as he pulled the blanket up over the two of you.

Pulling you flush to his chest, he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m never letting you go,” He murmured as your heart warmed at his words. 

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[echo-three-one]

Chapter 38

THE ROAD SO FAR

The EIGHT-Thirty Appointment

John 'Soap' MacTavish

London, UK

Following the events of Shepherd's surrender to authorities, the members of Task Force 141 who went rogue in pursuit of him had been exonerated from treason. This meant that from then on, life would be a little more 'normal'. No more hiding in public, no more lack of equipment, no more secret hiding areas.

This prompted Laswell to recreate the task force she once poured her heart on, with a few changes to its jurisdiction. With Ghost, Roach and Alexandra still recovering, the remaining members were invited to celebrate their success.

"So John, now that 141 is back your main focus will be Nero. Do you want the reassigned members back?" Laswell asked Price while they exited the building. Soap overheard this because he thought he was the John being called.

"If it's still okay and not much of a hassle, then yes." Price replied.

"What about Kyle?" Laswell added.

"No. Not yet. Just keep an eye on him." Price mused and turned to Soap, who quickly turned to focus back on Alex as he pushed his wheelchair.

"Excuse me, Captain Price. Can we talk for a moment?" Samantha interrupted as they stopped on their tracks. Alex turned out of curiosity, wondering what matter they were discussing.

"Hey hey hey. What was that about?" Alex asked Soap and France, who continued walking. Laswell turned to the next right as she already finished her conversation with Price, waving at Alex and the rest of the 141.

Soap chuckled at the CIA. This was about Samantha's surprise for him and he shouldn't spoil it.

"Well, with 141 back maybe she just wanted to know where she will be now. Nero no longer needs the IP Address and she's been through a lot." France reasoned, making Alex frown.

"You know… I want her safe and all but I also want her within my reach. I've lost her far too many times already. I'm not going to lose her again." Alex grumbled making Soap and France look at each other, their faces were worried at their sorry excuse.

"I think Samantha feels the same way too. Maybe she's bargaining for staying at 141." Soap lied, making France question him quietly.

"You know what, Alex? Don't overthink this." Soap tapped his shoulders reassuringly.

"Overthink what?" Samantha inserted. They fell quiet and Samantha slowly asked Soap to let her push Alex as they moved forward, Samantha being excited of what's next.

"Well, we did a great job. I guess." Soap quietly commented sarcastically, earning a soft elbow from France.

"Ow!" he exaggerated and turned to France, his face looked bewildered.

"Way to go, John." She sneered and followed the two on their way to their appointment, riding Soap's trusty jeep.

The drive to the surprise area consisted of mostly Soap and Francine acting like couples while they drove. Soap could see the two murmuring at each other whenever Soap would argue with France on whatever's going on in the road.

"I always wanted to try out some London restaurants." she mused, looking at the place they just passed by.

"Yeah? I could see you as the fancy kind." he chuckled at his guess.

"What does that mean?" France gave him a suspicious glare. Soap looked at her, feigning surrender.

"I just said it as is. You're the kind of person who would want fancy stuff." He explained, focusing back on the road.

"I-"

"Come on. You don't have to read everything I say between the lines. Sometimes, I'm just a simple man" he whined and Alex and Samantha burst out laughing, causing the two to be quiet.

"Are you sure there's nothing going on with you two?" Samantha asked, making the silence a little bit more awkward.

Soap carefully rolled his eyes toward Francine, who was actually looking down and blushing. He really had no definitive stance on whatever's going on between them, and if you ask him, he'd love to assume that they're already together. But he remembered that he told her that he'll be patient, and that's the only thing that's hindering him from taking her to the next level.

"Well…" Francine croaked, her voice was shaky and Soap was actually worried that she was already under pressure.

"We're here." Soap interrupted, wishing he did the right thing. Alex quickly looked outside to see where they actually were.

"What is this place, Soap? Where did you bring us?" Alex asked and Soap just nodded.

"I'll let your girl fill in everything for you. This was her idea after all and we're here to help her out." Soap replied as he assisted him to his wheelchair and watched the two enter the establishment.

He then knocked on Samantha's door as she was still out of focus.

"There's a coffee shop across the street, we could wait there until they finish." He invited her for another coffee date. Hopefully this time, there would be no more emp phone wielding persons to interrupt it.

"About Samantha's question…" She muttered.

"Don't pressure yourself about it. You actually owe me for saving you, by the way." He chuckled, already opening her door.

France slowly stepped down the vehicle and turned to Soap, her head looked up to his face.

"Look John. There's no other reason I can think of that would make you wait anymore. I really enjoy your company, your personality, and I'm curious about everything else about you. So, if you've been waiting all this time ever since that night, my answer is that I'm ready." She smiled, and John's eyes widened at the sight of her. The message made him hug her tight, lift her up and spin her around briefly while she giggled at the feeling.

"Wow. You don't know how much you made my day, France!" he sighed as he slowly set her down and closed the door and made their way to the coffee shop.

"I missed these so much!" France happily chewed on a slice of blueberry cheesecake, with a few crumbs stuck on the edge of her mouth. Soap smiled as she watched her enjoy the simple things in life, a thing he was always looking for in women.

Most of his dating life were his parents setting him up on business dates and most women there were far too serious. They looked like they haven't enjoyed anything in years. Some of them admittedly loved to have fun, but their idea of fun was far too complicated. Like expensive travels and luxurious shopping sprees, none of them piqued Soap's interest.

However, Francine was the first one who begged to differ. It's like every great idea in John's activity book is enjoyable for her. Simple things such as Netflix, Cinemas and even this coffee shop date, made her smile.

"What's funny?" Francine asked as she noticed the odd smile on his face.

"Oh nothing… you just looked cute eating that whole thing. It makes me want to buy a whole cake and watch you smile and eat that all day." he mused, imagining how things would've been if they weren't in public. He could've been tasting that cake from her mouth already.

He quickly grabbed a tissue and wiped off the crumbs as Francine blushed in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. I didn't notice it was there." she blushed shyly and looked down.

"Nah… why apologize. I was thinking you were hinting at me to kiss you. Like what most movies and cliché shows would mean." He scoffed and sipped on his coffee.

"Ha ha. Well you could try. As if I'd let you." She smiled bravely, but Soap could see her weakness behind that smile. She's raising her guard up again, and it's always like that when people are around.

"Wow. Umm that went differently." Soap commented, attempting to let France open up. This has been a common trend with her lately, toughening up when people are around but when they're alone, she's still strict but less tense.

"I'm sorry. It's just-" She hesitated and turned to the window.

"Say, how long would it take for them to finish?" She asked. Soap also turned to the building and shrugged.

"I don't know. Honestly, I'm excited for him. They make the best prosthetics around here and it'd make Alex's life easier. It'll look and weigh and bend like an actual leg." he said proudly as he turned to France who was looking at him weirdly.

"What?" he asked as he checked his phone which just beeped.

"Actually, they're almost done. And they're asking for an order. I'll just go get some for them, you stay here." He added, holding the thought, wiping his face and proceeded to the counter.

The reformed Task Force 141 would soon be back in business as papers were already approved by the board. They'll be situating themselves on American soil as their previous base was compromised by the traitorous General.

As for their last day on English soil, the rest of the team stayed in a penthouse condominium unit owned by the MacTavishes.

"Wow. This is top class!" Samantha mused as Alex plopped himself on the couch, his new leg quickly rested on the table. He's been in it for only a few hours but he already got the hang of it.

Samantha shot a glare at Alex's actions to which he shrugged on, prompting Soap to reply.

"Don't worry Samantha, make yourselves at home. We don't use this place anyway so help yourselves out. I promise it'll be fine." he eased as Samantha slowly plopped down beside him as Alex's arm rested on her shoulders. Soap actually wondered if he could do that to her too, get comfortable, open up, just normal stuff.

"I'll go get tea." he quickly said to himself as his imagination got the best of him as he walked to the kitchen. France quickly followed him to help out.

"Fancy place you got here, John. I wonder how many girls you've brought in here." She mused standing in front of him, helping with the teacups. Soap eyed her for a second and replied.

"Honestly, I can't count. I used to stay here when I studied and that was years ago." he replied as seriously as possible, looking at the changes on her face. She's actually jealous.

"Yeah. Figures. I saw your photos from earlier years. It was no doubt you'd have a lot of women over." She chuckled, nervously at it. Soap saw through her as she started to get curious about his life. A sign that she's ready to stop lowering her guard. Soap on the other hand, wanted her to feel special. Asking her out as soon as possible would make him come out as a desperate one, so he planned to do it the long traditional way. Which he actually despised, he would want to hug her so tight right now and it was already killing him.

"What about you? How many different rooms did you wake up to already?" he asked, changing the subject as she was already starting to feel bad about her question.

"Me?! Only a few. And most of them were owned by you. I've been very serious about my life choices that I never let myself loose." she sighed as Soap raised an eyebrow.

"Let loose? Like going out to parties?" He added.

"Yes. But broader. Like letting myself loose. I've always followed the path I wanted to be in, not letting any distractions bother me." she explained, blushing at it like it's a secret she was too shy to tell. Soap on the other hand, didn't quite get it.

"So you mean…" He tilted his head.

"Yes. Since birth, I never had a boyfriend." she looked down in embarrassment for the second time today.

Soap gulped. He didn't actually know how to respond to her statement. Sure he wanted to be the first one, but now wasn't the time. It would feel forced. And he wasn't a fan of forced relationships.

The kettle whistled and the two of them quickly responded to it as they both reached out for it, their hands met just by the handle.

"I'll take care of this one." She said as Soap slowly let go of her soft hands and watched her pour it on, carrying it to Samantha and Alex who were already giggling through a romcom.

"Way to go, John." he muttered to himself with a sigh as he ran his hand on his hair.

The day actually felt worse as France continued to remain quiet towards Soap as she invested herself on the television, third wheeling on Alex and Samantha.

Soap pondered about the words he chose to say to her and those he didn't over a steamy shower.

With the place having only two bedrooms, it was inevitable that France would sleep beside him but he also considered sleeping on the couch to respect her privacy or something like that.

As soon as he exited the bathroom, he saw France already tucked on her side of the bed, scrolling through her phone.

"Hey there." he muttered as she rolled her eyes to him and back to her phone.

"Hey." she said nonchalantly, her eyes dead focused on her screen. Soap quickly grabbed his nighttime clothes and slipped them on.

"Are you in any way excited for tomorrow?" he asked, trying to keep her from interacting with him.

"Yeah. A little." she said as she turned to him and smiled.

"Listen, about earlier today, in the kitchen..." he said.

"I'm not mad, John. I just wanted to say it out there so you could understand me."

"Tell me what you feel."

"Embarrassed."

"Why?"

"Because I looked like a fool earlier. When I told you I was ready and now I feel that you're the one who isn't. You told me you would wait but-" Soap placed his hand on her face, gently touching her cheek.

"France. You don't have to worry. You're still the one I'm thinking about every second. I just… wanted to do this the slow and steady way, where I would show off how worthy I am for you. I want you to enjoy the whole John MacTavish Experience." he smiled and she slowly turned her frown upside down.

Soap wanted to take a picture of that smile and plaster it all around the room as his heart started to pound like crazy, his face unknowingly moving closer to hers. They both started to close their eyes as they let their lips do the talking, but in a quiet and intimate way. Soap felt France's greed for his kiss as she slowly learned how to beg for more of him. It was true that she had no experience on these things but something told him that she's starting to learn some tricks herself.

Soap didn't hesitate to retaliate as she released a soft groan, a sign of her being content as her hands slowly grazed his arms, her thumb softly pressed his biceps, digging deeper as their tongues clashed. After a few more seconds, they both broke their kiss as they gasped for air.

"Yeah. Go sleep on the floor before we do something stupid." She giggled and Soap nodded in agreement as they quickly shuffled about, set their beds and called it a night.

Next Chapter - The SEVEN Inch Wound

Notification Squad my Beloved

@samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @enderio @bumblingbee1 @ricinbach @whimsywispsblog

[colbybrocksmolder]

Awkward Boner – Colby Brock x Reader

“COLBY!” The group yelled. He was over at Heath’s house with Sam, Brennen, and Jay to film a video and hang out.

The premise of the video was simple. Answer a personal question or pick a dare out of the hat. Colby had admitted to a few things, but the last question made him tap out. He jokingly had darted from the hotseat, jumping the little wall and running down the street to avoid picking a dare.

“GET BACK HERE YOU PUSSY!” Brennen had yelled after him, the rest of the group laughing.

He had good reason for fearing the hat full of dares. So far Heath had to shave part of his head, Sam had to wax an entire leg, Brennen committed to getting a small tattoo that said “yeehaw” and Jay…Well Jay had to send a not so modest text to the girl he liked.

“I don’t wanna!” Colby whined, sitting back down in the hotseat.

“Pick a dare, bitch.” Heath mocked him, holding the hat forward.

“Please be easy, please be easy, please be easy…” Colby whispered, opening the folded piece of paper. “FUUUUUUUCK” He whined, passing the paper off to Sam before dropping his head to rest in his hands.

“Get both nipples pierced. May take them immediately out.” Sam read out loud.

“That’s not THAT bad.” Heath said, teasing him.

“Yeah, you’ve got tons of piercings and tattoos already. You might even like them.” Sam agreed.

Colby just shook his head back and forth, his chin resting on his fists. “When do I have to do it by?” he asked, looking at Heath.

“I don’t post for another week.” He answered.

Colby nodded. “I’ll call my piercer, Y/n. She was going to change Jake’s jewelry out this week anyways.”

The video ended and the boys finished hanging out. When Sam and Colby headed back to their apartment building, Colby stopped by Jake’s.

“Come in!” he heard Jake yell after he knocked. Colby walked in the apartment and dropped down onto the couch. “You okay?” Jake laughed. “You look like someone stole your puppy.”

Colby sighed. “I had to pick a dare in Heath’s video and I have to get my nipples pierced.”

Jake gave him a funny look. “That’s nowhere near the worst thing you’ve ever had to do for a video.”

“There’s just a little issue.” Colby blushed, turning to stare at Jake.

Jake scooted away from Colby. “Why do I feel like I don’t want to know what you’re about to tell me?” He laughed.

“You know what, fine. I’ll go by myself.” Colby huffed, standing to leave.

“COLBY! I’m kidding!” Jake reached out, grabbing his arm. “When have I ever actually judged you or outed your shit?”

Sitting back on the couch, Colby let his head drop into his hands. He told Jake his “secret” but it was so muffled he couldn’t understand him.

“What?” Jake laughed, seeing Colby so embarrassed. When he didn’t immediately repeat himself, Jake continued. “Dude, you know like ALL of my embarrassing shit. This can’t be THAT bad.”

Colby rubbed his face, turning to look at Jake. “I said, I get really turned on when ANYONE touches my nipples. If I have to sit through Y/N cleaning, and touching, and pinching, and poking my nipples…Dude, I’m gonna get a hard on. I know it.”

Jake busted out laughing and ended up inhaling his own spit. “Fuck.” After about a 30 second coughing fit, he took a deep breath and giggled.

“That’s what you get for laughing at me.” Colby finally cracked a smile, knowing that even though he was legitimately stressed out…this shit was pretty funny.

“This is karma, brother.” Jake laughed. “You said you were going to ask her out like 6 months ago. Maybe if you had nutted up back then, she’d already have seen you with a boner.” Jake barely finished his sentence, busting a gut all over again.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.” Colby sighed, laughing. “I have to just tell her, right?”

“I mean, unless you want to surprise her with it.” Jake answered.

Colby grabbed one of Jake’s pillows and whacked Jake in the face with it. “Jake!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He laughed, yanking the pillow out of Colby’s hands. “You guys are friends, dude. Just talk to her about it. I’m sure this is nothing compared to the weird shit she sees in her shop.”

Colby’s eyes went wide. “That’s true.”

Jake’s appointment wasn’t for a few days, but Colby wanted to drop by and talk to you ahead of time and just get everything out and in the open. “Hey, Jack.” He said, shaking one of your piercer’s hands. “Is Y/n here?”

“Yeah, yeah. She’s just chillin’ in her room. Do you have an appointment?” he asked, reaching for their book.

“Nah, I just wanted to talk about a piercing I’m getting later. She knows I’m stopping by.” Colby answered.

“Oh, just head back, dude. You’re on the friends list. I’m gonna lock the door soon, though, so make sure you let her know to lock it after you leave.” Jack instructed.

“I’m on a list?” Colby asked, a bit shocked. The two of you had hit it off, but he was still always nervous around you. He didn’t think he’d made that great of an impression.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s like our “safe” list. Like, if we’re here early these people are allowed in the shop. Or like, this is the list of people we’re allowed to answer questions to. Like if you called and asked if y/n was here, normally we don’t answer that. We tell them we’ll have her get back to them and get their number, but this list is people we trust.” He tried explaining.

“Oh, rad. Good to know.” He smiled at Jack and walked to the back where your office/piercing room was. “Y/n?” he called, walking into the dark-ish room.

“Flip the light on.” You called from your piercing chair.

Colby slid his hands over the wall looking for the switch. When he found it, he flipped it on. “You okay?” he asked, seeing you cover your eyes. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, no. I just have this killer headache. This is day three of this monster.” You answered, your hand reaching back over your shoulder to rub the muscles in your neck.

“Damn, can I get you anything?” Colby asked, moving to sit on the other chair.

“Sadly, no. I think I’ve tried everything there is to try. I may go get a massage tomorrow. Jack said it would help.” You answered, sighing. “What can I do for you, though?” you smiled over at Colby.

Colby’s cheeks turned red pretty instantly, remembering why he was there. “I have a compromise.” He shyly smiled. “I’m going to massage your shoulders and your neck for you so that I can ask you this really fucking awkward question without having to look you in the eyes.” He laughed.

You laughed, giving him a confusing look. “A really awkward question, huh?”

Colby nodded, biting his lip and closing his eyes. “The most awkward, y/n.” he laughed.

“Hell, I’m not going to say no. First, there’s no way your question is as awkward as you think. Remember, I’ve pierced A LOT of body parts.” You stopped to make a dramatic face. “Second, my head is killing me and I’m willing to try pretty much anything at this point to make it better.”

Colby stood and flipped the light back off, walking to stand behind you. “I’ll start at the beginning I guess.” He said, his fingers starting to work the knots out of your muscles. “I was in this video….” He continued telling you how he ended up in this position.

“Ooo, getting your nipples pierced is one of those ones that hurts decently bad when you’re getting it done, but people absolutely love having once it’s healed.” You commented after he had gotten to the part with the dare. You let your head fall forward, feeling Colby’s thumbs start to work up the back of your neck into your hairline. “You should do this for a living, by the way.” You practically moaned.

Colby’s mouth went dry hearing the noises you were making. “Yeah?” he asked, his fingers continuing to knead your tense muscles. “Is it helping?”

“Definitely.” You answered, reaching back to move one of his hands back to where it had been a moment ago. “Dude, whatever you did right there…it immediately helped.”

“Like this?” he asked, digging his fingers into the tight tangled muscle.

“Colby.” You moaned, feeling the pressure that had tormented you for days slowly dissipate.

“Y/n, I can’t ask you awkward questions if you keep moaning my name like that.” Colby teased, laughing. On the inside he was freaking out. He had shown up to tell you his worries about embarrassing himself in front of you and it turns out he was about to do it before you even got to the piercings.

“Oh yeah, sorry.” You laughed. “Honestly, this feels better than any sex I’ve had in a long time, so the moaning makes sense.” You joked. Well, you said it as a joke. It wasn’t really a joke. “Why are you worried about getting your nipples pierced? The aftercare is pretty easy, honestly.”

“If that’s the case, you’re sleeping with the wrong people.” Colby laughed. “And it’s not the piercing part I’m worried about. Or the aftercare. You always make sure to take care of us with that stuff. I’m worried I’m going to…” He hesitated, his fingers pausing in their movements.

“Colby?” You encouraged him to continue.

“I’m worried I’m going to embarrass myself. If that makes sense.” He said, his fingers slowly starting to move again.

You sat there thinking for a moment. “Do you mean…Are you just really sensitive there?” you asked, wondering why he was so worried.

“You could say that.” Colby chuckled out. “Combine that with the fact that my piercer is this beautiful, funny, dare I say sexy individual…”

“You think Jack’s sexy?” You teased him, thoroughly enjoying how nervous Colby was.

Jack walked in the room, flipping the light on. “Did someone say I was sexy?” he asked, making a weird face.

You laughed, hearing Colby laugh behind you. “Are you locking up, Jack?”

“I am indeed. I’ll see you tomorrow!” he said, turning to leave. “Do you want the light off?” he turned back to ask.

“Nah, leave it on.” You answered, watching Jack leave. The two of you heard the bells ring on the front door, indicating he had left and locked up.

“Your head feeling better?” he asked, his hands still rubbing circles into your muscles.

“Insanely better.” You answered, reaching back and grabbing one of his hands. “I think I need to pay you back.” You said, climbing off of the piercing chair. “Lay down.”

“What?” Colby asked, his eyes going wide.

“Come on. You’re worried about this and it’s going to stress you out all week. Let’s just do it now.” You encouraged.

“Fuuuck.” Colby groaned, tossing his head back. “So, this isn’t going to be awkward? You aren’t going to ban me from your shop or anything?” he asked, forcing a laugh.

“Silly boy.” You said, adjusting your piercing chair to lay back. Patting it so he’d lay down. “Ditch the shirt.”

When you turned to sort through your supplies, Colby reached down and adjusted himself in his pants. Between the moaning, giving you the massage, and the anticipation of you piercing his nipples he was already sporting a half chub. “At least tell me I won’t be the first person in your chair to get an awkward boner.”

That made you snort. “First, if a piercing turns you on, more power to you. You’ve chosen the right piercing.” You laughed. “Second, there’s nothing awkward about a half-naked, turned on, Colby Brock laying in my chair.” You turned to smirk at him.

“I can’t tell if you’re saying that because you believe it or if you think I’m a weirdo and you’re trying to put me at ease.” He laughed, laying down in the piercing chair.

“I’m shocked your buddy Jake hasn’t outed me yet.” You laughed, grabbing the supplies and putting them on the tray next to the chair. “He caught me checking you out last time you were in and asked me if I liked you.”

“WHAT?!” Colby practically yelled.

“See, now we both have a reason to feel awkward.” You laughed, grabbing his shirt from him. “You still want to go through with this?”

Colby looked down at his now very obvious bulge before covering his face with his hands. “Y/n, I think my answer is obvious.”

You looked down, happy with the answer. “In that case…I have a few questions. Are you single?”

“Very.” He quickly answered.

“Do you like me?”

Colby smirked, looking you up and down. “I wasn’t lying when I said my piercer was beautiful, funny, and sexy.”

“Do you just want to sleep with me, or do you want to date me?” You asked, your eyes wandering over his naked torso down to what looked like an impressive package hidden within his black skinny jeans. When you looked back up at his face, he wore a soft smile.

“I would love to date you.” He said, his cheeks once again turning pink.

Looking at his blushing face, you couldn’t help but smile. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek before moving your lips to his ear. “Then do you want to have a little fun with this?”

You could hear Colby’s breath catch, his body shivering and little goosebumps appearing across his flesh. “Jesus, I’m actually going to come in my pants like a 13 year old if you keep doing stuff like that.”

You breathed out a silent laugh, connecting your lips with his. “See, if we did this my way, you wouldn’t be coming IN your pants.”

Colby nodded his head quickly, leaning up to connect your lips once more in a quick kiss. “I’m in.”

Slipping on your gloves, you grabbed the alcohol wipe and cleaned the first nipple. “I’m going to pierce this one first so you can get used to the feeling, okay?”

Colby moaned when your fingers brushed the alcohol wipe over his now hard nipple. “Okay.” He started dragging his fingers up and down the skin of his stomach.

“You weren’t lying when you said you were sensitive.” You teased, pinching his other nipple between your fingers with the alcohol wipe.

Colby had to stop himself from arching his back away from the piercing chair. “Now you see why I was so worried.” He laughed.

You grabbed your pen and marked where the piercings would sit. “Sit up for a second so I can double check that these are straight.” He sat up gingerly, trying not to rub himself against his jeans, his legs hanging off the side of the chair. “Perfect.” You said, approving of where you had marked his skin. “These are actually going to look gorgeous on you.” You smiled up at him.

“I’m glad you approve.” He smirked. “You know, since my hope is that you’ll be the one seeing and touching them all the time.”

You pulled your gloves off, knowing you’d have to put fresh ones on before you opened the needle. You moved to stand between Colby’s knees. “I think I like the sound of that.” You said, your lips grazing his ear and your hand cupping him through his jeans.

His forehead dropped to rest on your shoulder. “I told you what would happen if you kept doing that.” He groaned.

“Lay back.” You laughed, backing away from where he was sat. “Nothing special for the first one. I’m going to use the forceps to pinch it, I’ll run the needle through, I’ll remove the forceps, and then I’ll slip your jewelry through.” You said, putting on new gloves.

Colby took a few deep breaths. “Okay. I’m ready.” He said, staring at the ceiling.

“One…two…three…” you pushed the needle through his skin.

“Y/n.” Colby moaned, his head slamming back against the cushion.

You removed the forceps and let him chill for a second. “Can I switch the needle for the jewelry?” you asked, smirking down at him.

“Yeah.” Colby answered, his breaths coming out ragged. “I’m so glad Jack went home.”

That made you laugh. “Probably for the better. He would have wanted to watch.”

You switched the needle for the jewelry and screwed on the tiny steel ball. “Is it done?” Colby asked, looking down at his freshly pierced nipple.

“That one is.” You answered. “Now for this one…” you pinched the flesh of his other nipple between your gloved fingers. “I’ve got other plans.”

“Fuck.” Colby groaned, moving his hand over his bulge to try to relieve some of the pressure.

You leaned down and kissed Colby. “Unzip your jeans.” You instructed, pressing kisses across his exposed collarbone. “Now touch yourself.” You said, standing back up to watch him.

“Re…really?” he asked, his hand hesitating in his boxers.

“Colby, pull yourself out of your boxers and touch yourself.” You repeated, pinching his unpierced nipple.

“Fuck me.” Colby moaned, his hand moving to jerk himself closer to his already close orgasm.

“I’m going to do the same thing for this nipple, okay?” you grabbed the forceps and placed them in the right position on his nipple. “Don’t stop moving your hand.” You said, going to count down to the needle.

“Y/n, I’m already gonna come.” Colby cried out, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Perfect.” You grinned, pushing the needle through his flesh.

Colby threw his head back, his hand rubbing himself through his climax. When you went to switch the needle for the jewelry, he nearly cried out.

“That was honestly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen happen in this room.” You laughed, ditching your gloves and grabbing a damp paper towel to clean Colby’s now sticky stomach and hand.

Colby laid there, trying to catch his breath. “Just in this room?” The two of you laughed.  

“How are you feeling?” you asked, leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.

As you went to pull away, Colby’s hands moved to cradle your face. He held your lips against his, deepening the kiss. When he finally broke the kiss and sat up, he kept his hands on your cheeks. “That was, no lie, the most intense thing I’ve ever felt in my life.” He quickly pecked your lips with his before removing his hands and tucking himself back in his jeans.

“Just wait a few months. Once they’re healed, you’re open to a whole new world.” You smirked.

“Jesus, I have to wait months before we can touch them?” He asked.

“I’ll show you how to clean them, but yes. You want them to heal well so you can have fun with them after.” You explained.

“Damn. Looks like I’ll just have to play with yours until mine are healed, then.” Colby teased, his hands resting at your waist.

“Oh, mine have been healed for years. You can play with them all you want.” You agreed.

Colby groaned, pulling you back into a kiss. “I didn’t even know you had yours pierced. You’re introducing me to all sorts of new things.”

“Want me to take a picture for your friend’s video?” you asked, enjoying the lazy kisses you and Colby were sharing.

“Yes, actually. That would be perfect. I’ll make sure he puts your shop in the description, too.” He said, posing in front of a mural inside your shop so you could take the picture.

“I got a few so you could choose.” You said, handing him back his phone and putting away your piercing supplies.

“Hey, Y/n.” Colby moved to stand behind you, his hands once again finding your waist. “You’re really going to let me take you out, right?” He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I really do want to date you.”  

You let out a soft laugh. “Of course. I really did tell Jake I had a crush on you.”

“I was supposed to ask you out like six months ago.” Colby replied. “I was just a massive pussy about it.”

You turned, making sure not to hit Colby’s piercings. “I can think of a few ways you could make that up to me.” You smiled up at him.

“I think you should write them down with my aftercare instructions.” Colby teased, leaning down to connect your lips. “Better yet, come to my place and show me. I want to make sure I get this right.”

[catgirlthecrazy]

To Love and To Cherish

After being extremely mean to Jon and Martin in my last fic, I had to make it up to them with 2,000 words of domestic softness (and a side helping of character development)

AO3

Summary: What if the Scottish Honeymoon lasted through retirement? 

***

Martin was washing dishes when the fog rolled in. He didn't notice it right away. He was bent over the kitchen sink and didn't see much beyond the plates and soapy water. It wasn't until Martin straightened to work a kink out of his back that he saw the soft white curtains of vapor drifting across the yard. And Jon was down in the village at the moment, and hadn't said when he planned to come home.

When he'd first come to Scotland for years ago, that had been enough to send him into a panic attack. Slumped against the kitchen counter, knees hugged to his chest, sweating and struggling to breathe for god knew how long until Jon came home and found him like that. He'd held Martin's hand, softly rubbing circles in his palm. Come on Martin, breathe with me, he'd said, voice soft and steady as a highland cow. Breathe in to a count of ten. 

Decades had passed since then. Somewhat less since his last real panic attack. Martin knew now, with a rock solid certainty, that Jon would come back. He knew he had friends waiting for him.

Still. Martin Blackwood might not be Lonely anymore, but that didn't mean the scars couldn't ache in the wrong weather. He stared out the window into the fog, hands still dripping with suds. He could remember the day when that fog had filled his eyes and lungs and heart and mind. When he'd been certain that no one in the world cared if he lived or died, and that he would spend the rest of eternity with that numbing fog. Without even the mercy of death to look forward to.

Martin closed his eyes and breathed in. One. Two. He thought of Sophie and Rasheed, who ran the chemist's shop down in the village and invited them to dinner every once a week. Three. Four. Their children, Maryam and Noah, who Martin had known since they came home from the hospital and were now graduated from university. Five. Six. Robin and Daniel, who ran the pub that Jon and Martin went to every Wednesday, and had done so ever since taking it over from Robin's father ten years ago. Seven. Eight. Georgie and Melanie, who hosted Christmas every year down in London. Nine. Ten. Daisy and Basira, who came up to visit for two weeks every summer. Now hold.

Jon. Who woke up beside him every morning. Who could go on and on about the strangest things. Whose brusque demeanor hid a surprising depth of kindness that still delighted Martin even to this day. Who'd plunged himself into that cold and numbing fog to save Martin, and pulled him out again with love. Who'd given up his own sight for a life with Martin, away from eyes and fear. Martin breathed out to another count of ten. He opened his eyes, and the fog was just fog. Just water vapor brought about by a closeness of air temperature and dew point. He went back to washing dishes.

Some time later, something meowed at his feet. Martin looked down and smiled. "Hello Percy," he said to the regal ball of fluff twining itself around his ankles. Percy looked up and meowed again.

"Don't give me that. It's not dinner time for another hour."

Percy gave him a withering look and meowed again, as if to say You are most certainly mistaken. Your clocks must be running slow.

"I think you'll find it's your clock that needs winding, not mine."

Another plaintive meow. You must make an exception! Can you not see how I am malnourished and dying?

"Not falling for that one either."

Percy gave him a look of pure pleading, and mewed.

"That won't work on me. Jon's the cat person, not me."

Percy's expression grew more plaintive. He mewed pitifully. Martin turned back to his dishwashing before he could give into weakness.

Percy's full name was Sergeant Major Percival Pike. The naming of cats was one thing Jon and Martin had never really been able to see eye to eye on. One day many years ago, Jon had come home with a stray kitten and informed Martin that they were calling her The Commandant. Martin hadn't had the heart to argue at the time. Jon had been so adorably besotted with the tiny thing, how could he tell him no? But Martin always felt a little ridiculous calling such a squeaky little fuzzball by such a weighty title. So he'd nicknamed her Manda, and called her that until she passed away from old age in front of the fireplace. Jon had only lightly teased him for it, and Manda didn't seem to mind answering to two different names.

When they adopted their second cat, three years after rescuing Manda, Jon had wanted to name him Lord Chancellor. This time, Martin put his foot down.

Please Jon, can't we give the cat a normal name?

Jon scoffed. What self respecting cat would accept a normal name?

You think a cat's going to care if it's called Whiskers? Or Mittens? Or Fluffy?

Yes, and their owners should be hanged for lack of creativity.

In the end, they compromised, and the cat was dubbed Lord Chancellor Reginald Roberts III. Martin called him Reggie. And so it continued for every subsequent cat they owned, down to their current pair. In addition to the Sergeant Major aka Percy, they were also graced with the presence of Brigadier General Eleanor Evans, aka Ellie. People who didn't know them well sometimes assumed they actually had four cats instead of two.

The scraping of a white cane on concrete announced Jon coming up the front walk. Percy alerted to the sound and trotted over to the front door to wait. A moment later Jon came in, Ellie following closely on his heels like a mother shepherding a slow kitten. She did that often these days. There had been a time some years ago when Jon had been clipped by a drunk driver while walking up the lane, fallen into a ditch, and broken his leg. Ellie had found him on her daily ramble outside, then gone home to Martin and refused to stop screeching until he followed her to see what the problem was. She had appointed herself Jon's official outdoor chaperone ever since. Jon didn't put up with overprotectiveness from humans, but apparently he could tolerate it in cats just fine.

"Sophie and Rasheed say hello," Jon said. He shuffled over to the counter and set down two bags. One had the logo of the chemist's shop, containing the month's assorted prescriptions (arthritis medications for Jon, blood pressure and thyroid medications for Martin). The other had a container of something thick and brown and spicy-smelling. "They insisted on giving us some of their leftover curry, so I think we're having that tonight, unless you have any objections."

Martin smiled. Percy leaned his front paws on the counter walls and meowed insistently, as if to say Yes, that is clearly meant for me, please serve it up straight away. "Sounds better than omelettes. I'll go put on some rice." He leaned in to kiss Jon on the cheek.

***

The curry was excellent. Rich and warm and exactly as spicy as Jon liked it. After dinner found him and Martin on the couch, Jon leaning sleepily into Martin's shoulder. The fabric of Martin's sweater was soft against Jon's cheek, and it smelled faintly of lavender scented soap. Somewhere close by, the Sergeant Major was purring like a well oiled car engine. No doubt he was using Martin's lap as his own personal heated cat bed. Good taste in laps, that cat.

"Let's see, where did we leave off," Martin said. Jon heard the distinctive paper scrape of flipping pages. Real paper books were something of a rarity these days, but Martin wouldn't hear of replacing his collection with more convenient electronic versions. Jon couldn't afford to be as picky. Paper books were satisfying to hold, but they didn't come with built in text-to-speech software. Except when Martin owned those books, then they sort of did.

"Ah, here we are." Martin cleared his throat.

"Nevertheless I long—I pine, all my days—

to travel home and see the dawn of my return.

And if a god will wreck me yet again on the wine-dark sea,

I can bear that too, with a spirit tempered to endure."

Martin read in a calm, gentle voice. A slight shift in the cushions told him the Brigadier General was settling herself down above them on top of the couch. Aloof, but still part of things. With care, Jon reached up, found her chin, and offered scritches. The Brigadier General graciously accepted. What a picture they must make.

Jon didn't actually know what Martin looked like anymore. That was a statement that was true on a couple of different levels. Jon's mental image of Martin was still of a smiling, round-faced man with freckles in his late twenties. Jon knew Martin couldn't look like that anymore. His skin was dry and papery, his arms soft and flabby his hair thin and wispy and bald on top. And that was before considering the visual changes that other people (including Martin) commented on, like white hair and liver spots. Jon tried to overlay those facts onto his mental image of Martin, like a police artist trying to age up a photo of a long-missing person. But Jon would never know how closely that image matched the real thing.

On a deeper level though, Jon wasn't even sure if his image of young Martin was still accurate anymore. He'd made a point of memorizing every feature of Martin's face the day he'd decided to take his own sight. Every night for weeks after that, he'd conjured up the image in his mind, gone over every single detail with a mental microscope. He'd hoped that by sheer repetition Martin's face would wear a groove on his memory that could not be wiped away. But memory didn't work like that. Like an image that had been through the photocopier too many times, each act of recall changed the memory, altering and embellishing it until it was a caricature of its original form.

Once, that would have horrified Jon. He'd already had Sasha's face stolen from him, and no amount of terrible eldritch knowing power had been able to retrieve that knowledge for him. The thought of losing Martin's face? That had kept him up nights in a cold sweat. But if the decades since had taught him anything, it was this: the Not Them might have stolen Sasha's face from him, but it had also stolen every other part of her. Her voice, her laugh, even her manner. Jon still had every other part of Martin, waking up beside him each morning.

Jon awoke to gentle shaking. "Jon? Jon, you'll get a crick in your back if you fall asleep like that."

Jon grumbled and sat up. His spine screeched at him for forcing it back into a normal alignment. He grimaced. "What time is it?"

"Half past nine. You want to go to bed? Or I could make Percy let you have my lap."

Half past nine. In his younger days that barely counted as night. One of the lesser known adjustments of old age was the way it had completely obliterated his night owl tendencies. Jon considered Martin's offer. One last nap on his beloved's lap before moving to bed? "Tempting. But I think if I stay much longer I'll stick to it permanently."

With some considerable effort, Jon levered himself out of the couch. He offered a hand to help Martin up, which he readily took. "C'mere a minute," Martin said, tugging Jon gently back before Jon could turn towards the bedroom. Martin placed a hand under Jon's chin and tilted it up slightly. The gesture was both invitation and request, codified through decades of habit together. If the answer was no, Jon just needed to pull away, and that would be that.

Instead, Jon leaned in. There was the subtle but unmistakeable crackle of electricity that came before their lips met. Martin pressed his mouth into Jon's with a somewhat surprising level of intensity. Had something happened while he'd been out that day? Well, if it had, Martin would tell him. Or he wouldn't, if he didn't want to. Either way, it wasn't something Jon needed to know. Jon reached up to caress one cheek. It was dry and cracked, but covered in a soft peach fuzz he'd always been fond of. His other hand stretched around Martin's back, still soft and warm and huggable as an overlarge teddy bear. Jon might not know what Martin looked like anymore. But he didn't need to.

[kali-tmblr]

Problematic Atlas Quotes: Volumes 1-3

All of the places on Remnant put together have not produced as many jarring incongruities and mixed messages as Atlas. These are all quotes relating to Atlas that really stood out to me at the time and have stayed with me since.

Volume 1

Penny: I am combat ready! (Yeah, but are you ready for anything else? And who would send out a cute girl robot who was ONLY ready for combat?)

Weiss: The innocent never run, Yang! (Karmic law says that one will come back to bite your ass, Weiss.)

Penny: I don't have a lot of friends, but if I did, I would want them to talk to me about things. (We haven't seen this one come back around to Penny yet. Blake, yes. Penny, no.)

Volume 2

Ironwood: But ask yourself this: Do you honestly believe your children can win a war?

Ozpin: I hope they never have to. (Note that Ozpin believes they can. It's having to fight he considers a failure. Later revelations would make his view even more tragic.)

Ruby: But why not let us know you were okay?

Penny: I... was asked not to talk to you. Or Weiss. Or Blake. Or Yang. Anybody, really.

Ruby: Was your dad that upset?

Penny: No, it wasn't my father... (Ironwood speaks next. An early sign of Ironwood's controlling nature.)

Penny: I'm the world's first synthetic person capable of generating an Aura. (Tell me more.)

Penny: One day, it will be my job to save the world (The whole world? Seriously, tell me more.)

Penny: It's okay, Ruby. They're not bad people; I just don't want to get you in trouble. (And why would talking to you get Ruby in trouble? And why send her to a festival that encourages students to talk to each other if you won't let her talk?)

Penny: Just promise me you won't tell anyone else my secret. Okay?

Ruby: I promise.(If she HAD told Pyrrha, the whole debacle might not have happened. Will this come up again?)

Roman: As some of you may have heard, this right here... (Taps the giant mech) ...is Atlas's newest defense against all the scary things in the world. And thanks to my "employer", we've managed to snag a few before they, uh, "hit the shelves".  (Damn, Atlas, y'all got a lot worse security problems than Ruby.)

(The image of Penny dancing by herself at the ball surrounded by uniformed guards. Say what?)

Ironwood: Ruby, I feel it's appropriate to let you know that I think what you did last night is exactly what being a Huntress is all about. You recognized a threat. You took action. And you did the very best you could. (Ah well, that's nice. Doesn't entirely fit in with the rest of your character James, but it's nice.)

Ruby: Wait. You think this girl is connected to Torchwick and the White Fang?

Ozpin: It's possible. But we still lack the required evidence to link the two together.

Ruby: Actually, I... I think I remember her saying something about a hideout, or something, in the southeast. Just outside the Kingdom.

Ozpin: Interesting.

Glynda: I thought you said the intruder never—

Ozpin: Thank you for your cooperation, Ruby. Why don't you go and spend some time with your team? You have a big day ahead of you.

Ruby: Any time.

Ozpin: And Miss Rose, please try and be ... discreet about this matter.

Ruby: Yes sir. (This tells Ironwood several things. It tells him that Ruby will lie for Ozpin, that Ozpin will cover up Ruby's lie to protect her, and most importantly that Ruby and Ozpin TRUST EACH OTHER.)

Glynda: Why must your answer to everything involve a triumphant display of military bravado!? You treat every situation like it's a contest of measuring di—!

Ozpin: Glynda!

Glynda: Well, he does. (Tell me more, Glynda.)

Ozpin: You're a general, James. So tell me, when you prepare to go to war, which do you send in first? The flag bearers, or the scouts? (Why is a civilian Headmaster schooling a general with a lesson taught to greenhorn Lieutenants? And why does he have to?)

Ozpin:  We fought for countless reasons, one of which being the destruction of all forms of art and self-expression. (SOME kingdom has control issues.)

Glynda: You're a good person, James. You've always done what you think is best for the people, even against strong protest. It's admirable. But it's high time you stopped talking about trust and started showing it. (So Ironwood's trust issues are not new. Tell me more.)

Councilman 1: You've left us no choice! The Vytal Festival tournament cannot be broadcast, let alone held, if we are unable to ensure the safety of the citizens.

Councilman 1: Ahem... Therefore, we have reached out to the Atlas Council and together have decided that the best action is to appoint General Ironwood as head of security for the event.

Ironwood: Thank you, Councilman. Our Kingdom is happy to lend as many troops as it takes to ensure that the event runs smoothly and safely as possible.

Councilman 1: And we thank you, General.

Ozpin: Will that be all?

Councilman 1: For now. But after this festival comes to a close, we are going to have a serious discussion about your position at Beacon Academy. General Ironwood's reports over the last few weeks have left us somewhat... concerned. I am sure you understand.

Ironwood: This is the right move, Ozpin. I promise, I will keep our people safe, you have to trust me.(Damn dude, what did Glynda just say about trusting people? And why do you expect Ozpin to trust you when you clearly have tattled behind his back?)

Ironwood: You brought this on yourself. (Yeah, he did. By trusting you.)

Volume 3

I have already written a detailed post on the vast discrepancies between how Winter Schnee behaves and what she is trying to convey in her first scenes, titled "Snowbirds of a Feather". Suffice to say Ironwood isn't the only Atlesian sending mixed messages.

Ironwood: If you were one of my men, I would have you shot!

Qrow: If I was one of your men, I'd shoot myself.(So y'all have an acrimonious history as well. Okay.)

Goodwitch: While I wouldn't condone his behavior, retaliating like you did certainly didn't help the situation. ("Call yourself a grown-up? I've seen better behavior from first-year students! Why do I even have to say anything to you? Don't answer that.")

Qrow: You sent me to get intel on our enemy, and I'm telling you, our enemy is here.

Ironwood: We know.

Qrow: Oh! Oh, you know! Well, thank goodness I'm out there risking my life to keep you all informed!

Ironwood:Qrow-

Qrow: Communication's a two-way street, pal. You see this? That's the SEND button.

Winter: They had reason to assume you'd been compromised. (So, Ironwood, explain to me WHY, if you seriously think Qrow has been compromised, you haven't brought it up with HIS BOSS before now? Isn't that information kind of important?)

Qrow: Despite what the world thinks, we're not just teachers, or generals, or headmasters. The people in this room, the leaders of the other two academies, we're the ones that keep the world safe from the evils no one even knows about! It's why we meet behind closed doors, why we work in the shadows. So you tell me, James, when you brought your army to Vale, did you think you were being discreet, or did you just not give a damn!?

Ironwood: Discreet wasn't working. (Explain.)

 I'm here because this is what was necessary. (Explain.)

Qrow: You're here because Ozpin wanted you here! (Is it just me, or does anyone else think this sounds like it was an unpopular decision?)

Ciel: Ruby Rose. 15. Hails from Patch. Leader of Team RWBY. Status: Questionable. (Daaaammmn son. We need to talk. You ordered a full background check on a teenage girl just because she talked to your android? And then you gave it to your android's handler? And on top of all that, a gifted honor student from a multigenerational Huntsmen family who leads Beacon's first-year star team, who Ozpin clearly trusts, only rates as "Questionable"? Who doesn't rate as "Questionable"? Oh that's right. Qrow is also "Questionable", and so is Ozpin. Tell me, do you rate yourself as "Questionable"?)

Ciel: Penny? I believe it is best if we move on to our next location.

Penny: Could we have just a minute to talk? (No seriously, is Penny now not allowed any free time?)

Ciel: It's been precisely one minute, ma'am.(Apparently not.)

Penny: Ruby, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about. I want to stay at Beacon.

Ruby: Penny, they'll never let you do that.

Penny: I know, but I have a plan.(Tell me more.)

Yang: You're from Atlas. What could we expect?

Weiss: Well, seeing as their Kingdom, academy and armed forces are all merged as one, I think we can expect strict, militant fighters with advanced technology and carefully rehearsed strategies.  ... Or whatever they are.(So even other Atlesians think Atlesians send mixed messages.)

Ironwood: For the past few years, Atlas has been studying Aura from a more scientific standpoint; how it works, what's it made of, how it can be used. We've made... significant strides. And we believe we've found a way to capture it.

Qrow: Capture it and cram it into something else. (Dude, exactly WHERE did Penny's Aura come from?)

Ironwood: What I believe and hope this to be is nothing more than the result of stress and adrenaline. When you're out on the battlefield, your judgment can become clouded in an instant. Sometimes you see things that simply aren't there. Even after the fight is past... (That answers that question. You don't trust yourself either. What happened to you?)

Ironwood: Ozpin, the girl... I-I can explain! (You've got a full scale Grimm invasion going on and you're more terrified of OZPIN? What did you do to create Penny, James? How ELSE have you betrayed Oz?)

Ironwood: Qrow! This isn't my doing! (Why did you automatically assume Qrow is attacking you instead of looking behind you? Guilt?)

This post is long enough already, so I'll finish later. While I may be overreacting to some of these statements, that doesn't explain all of them. It's looked from the beginning like there was something fishy going on in Atlas, especially having to do with Ironwood.

[patriciahaefeli]

A Cautionary Tale? A Love Story? You Decide

It's been one of those rollercoaster weeks, one that began with a great deal of pain, which I tried to ignore at first, so as not to ruin my 17- year old’s already Corona-compromised birthday party. At some point during our 5 p.m. family Zoom celebration, I quietly left the room and went upstairs to lie down, writhe in pain, get back up, bend over, moan, repeat. This continued through the night Monday – and at one point, I remember thinking that labor wasn’t this bad and that I should probably go to the emergency room. In this new world we’re in, that thought was quickly dismissed by one word: COVID. I paced the floor at 3 a.m., alternately moaning and then bopping my head and sort of softly singing what kept running through my head, which was the chorus of The Knack’s 1979 hit song, “My Sharona.” Only my version went “My Corona.” Yes, even while suffering, I’m clever that way. 

By Tuesday morning the pain had subsided. I was exhausted however, and slept throughout the day. “Tricia! Drink this! Jesus, she’s burning up.” It was the alarm in my husband’s voice that I responded to more than the command. I sat up, drank the water he was holding out to me, and when I caught my reflection in the mirror over the dresser I had the brief, feverously detached impression of someone who’d sat under a sun lamp for too long. Sun lamp, the words made me almost giggle out loud. Sun-lamp, sun-lamp, sun-lamp…Does anyone even know what that is anymore? A few hours later I had a virtual appointment with my regular GP, during which the decision was made for me to go to the office first thing Wednesday for a full exam. My instructions (my fever-addled brain again added the words “should I choose to accept them” - hehehe), for entering the building would come in the form a text. 

My office exam was efficient and thorough. Upon arrival, I called the office and someone met me at a side door. As we were both masked and gloved, we nodded and murmured muffled greetings. Two PAs and an MD palpated my tender abdomen while I stifled screams. They decided that I should have a C-T scan that day, with the expectation that the offending culprit was a kidney stone. As many radiology facilities are currently closed, it took a few hours for them to locate one that would take me. My scan took place at 4:30. I was the last patient of their day. 

 Fast forward to 6:30 p.m. Wednesday evening. I picked up the call, which was remarkable in itself because anyone who knows me knows how irritating it is that, a) my phone is always on silent mode, and, b) I rarely answer numbers I don’t recognize. It was another doctor from Vanguard, calling to let me know that my C-T scan showed no evidence of kidney stones – “Yay!” BUT, he cut in, it did show acute appendicitis. What I needed to do, he said, was to go directly to the nearest ER. 

So here’s where this story really begins, because I was about to get a reality check regarding the difference between the inconveniences of “social distancing” and quite literally, matters of life and death. For those of us who are shuffling around at home in our sweatpants, eating too much, complaining about the buffoonery of our President, laughing at all the funny memes, and who are, to one degree or another, COMPLETELY OBLIVIOUS to the fact that health care workers do not have the luxury of ANY of that, here’s the newsflash: The Corona virus has virtually SHUT down normal operations for hospitals and surgical facilities, so if you’re also laughing in the face of social-distancing guidelines, and just can’t wrap your head around the possibility of contracting this deadly disease, know this too: If you break your arm, or your spouse has a heart attack, or your child’s strange rash won’t go away and you’re just really concerned, good luck. We are NOT in Kansas anymore, peeps. 

 I considered doing a bit of a negative a rant on the first hospital that I went to here, but perhaps that wouldn’t be fair. “The nearest ER” for me would have been another hospital, but due to their somewhat dubious reputation, we opted to go just a bit farther away. The best thing I can say about that experience was that the safety protocols to enter the ER were impressive. Picture the scene in E.T. where the Hazmat-suited guys from the space program find out about him and “invade” the house in a tunnel of white - then picture the people standing six feet apart outside of say, ShopRite, only these people don’t look so great. They’re kind of bent over, or swaying, or leaning on someone else. Then count your blessings that your gut hurts and you’re not bleeding out…or struggling to breathe. 

Three hours later, after they’d reviewed my scans and completed all of the necessary pre-op tests (blood work, EKG, urine analysis), I got the word that most of the ORs were being used as ICUs for COVID patients, and they were only doing “emergent” surgeries. They sent me home with massive doses of antibiotics, and a referral to see their staff general surgeon - outpatient. 

I figured they were right, too. Must not be very serious. I was doing well with that notion until the following morning, when I heard the barely concealed shock in the voice of my regular MD.  

“Did they see your scans?” his tone serving only to increase my anxiety. 

 “Yeah. But my appendix hasn’t exploded yet.” I said. 

 “Ah,” he sighed, “I know things are being handled differently in the ‘current environment,’ but last time I checked, acute appendicitis was emergent.” 

Okay, pay attention now, because here’s where it gets really interesting: See if you can answer his parting questions: 

 “Do you have a general surgeon? Preferably one with their own facility?” 

 So, do you? And if you do, are you sure they’re even open right now? I sure as hell didn’t (and the name they gave me at the hospital turned out to be for a doctor whose answering machine told me he was not seeing new patients). And the idea that it was now pretty much my problem to solve was a little intimidating – especially for someone who generally needs to be told that they’re sick (enough) or in (enough) pain to seek help—but that’s another story. Now that doctor, who I respect and like a lot, said he’d be trying to find me one, but that I should do my research as well. 

 My husband and I made a fairly long list of people/places to call, and split it. Those we were able to reach at all offered possible solutions to my dilemma, but each dead-ended pretty quickly. I focused on the task now, trying to ignore what it might mean that the ache in my belly seemed to be spreading down my right leg. 

As of this writing, I have yet to hear back from my regular GP and yet, here I sit, post-op, able to get this down mostly because of a Facebook message I sent to one of the nurses in the Belleville Public School district. The only real help I got came from her, a nurse, who responded immediately to an “in-boxed” message, and kept responding for the next hour, sending me the names and phone numbers of doctors (sometimes with their credentials!), links to possible facilities, and words of encouragement. She gave me her personal cell phone number and encouraged me to call it if I had questions and/or to let her know how it was going. I felt like she meant it, too. I also think she was responsible for the first in a series of serendipitous events that just may have saved my life. One of the names she gave me turned out to be the dad of one of my kid’s friends. 

 At that point, things happened pretty quickly. I called him (at home) and told him my situation. In a matter of 20 minutes, he had my scans and had booked  a time slot for me for same-day surgery at Clara Maass. He’s a high-energy, outgoing kind of guy, and although I’d stood on sidelines with him and his lovely wife at many a sports event, I don’t know him well enough, nor did I think it was appropriate to laugh out loud when he laid out the plan: “With everything going on, I just really want to do you – and get you the hell out of there!” 

So here I am, more grateful to him than I can possibly express and having some time to consider just how random and crazy and dangerous that whole situation was (turns out, my appendix had begun to perforate after all, and the real fun was just beginning) and how fortunate I am. 

 But the real heroes here - Oh, and God, aren’t we all a little sick of the “hero” thing? – well get over it, and listen up! From the minute I walked through the door of Clara Maass yesterday, my experience was the best it could possibly have been. The nurses! OMG the nurses - I was in pre-op for hours. Lucky as I was to have been squeezed in to an already crowded surgical schedule, the truth of the matter was that my presence had required a quick shifting of resources—stretchers and space and - nurses. My sudden appearance in the queue was inconvenient, possibly even annoying. And yet all of them, including the nurse who ran the OR, came by to check on me, to give me extra blankets, to chat with me, and laugh with me. A friend’s daughter-in-law, who is a nurse there, got a text from him and even she came from three floors below just to say hello and charm me with her Australian accent and tired-but-twinkling blue eyes. I swear, for me? The whole experience was a cross between a weirdly sterile spa stay, and – as mine all happened to be women - a girls’ sleepover with your best girlfriends—only these were women I'd just met (but they’d also pretty much seen me naked, so, there’s that…). 

Most of them were nearing the end of a 12-hour shift. As I lay there, relaxed and warm, reading and texting, they race-walked back and forth among those of us who waited, or were recovering. I lost count of how many times one of them asked me if I was okay, or if I needed something. They ate their dinners on the move, taking bites and then sprinting off, tearing off one set of gloves, putting on another. These people Do. Not. Sit. The sink was right near my bed, so I saw a lot of hand-washing traffic too, and a lot of red, chapped, over-sanitized hands. They spoke in soothing voices to those who were waiting, and possibly scared, and loud-enough voices for those emerging from the cloud of anesthesia to understand. Sometimes they shouted good-natured complaints to one another, or teased one another – and me, as when one started repacking those bags they give you for your clothes, amusement in her voice as she yelled, “What the hell did you do here, shove it all in like a little kid? Your purse is open – Maria, come over here and see this – she’s a mess!” Hahahaha! One came by and pointed to the cover of the book I was reading entitled “The Silent Patient”, and joked “That’s the kind we like!” 

I even began to wonder if what I was getting was “special treatment” reserved for those whose surgeries were personally called-in by the surgeon. Once he arrived, however, it was clear that not only did they not know he was the one who got me in, but they chided him in the same affectionate way. At a point, I said to one of them, “Doctors think they’re all that, but nurses really run the show don’t they?” She winked at me and elbowed me a little, “Like husbands, honey – they just think they’re in charge!” 

I lounged, for over four hours while they stood on what had to be tired feet, hands on hips as they talked to me, telling me which part of the hospital they’d spent the morning in, or where they were headed next in this crazy, all-hands-on-deck environment. We chatted about jobs and kids, and only when the topic of this deadly disease came up did the lack of words become conspicuous. Then it was all a mime of sad shakes of the head and downward glances. 

It occurs to me today that after all of this, I'm not sure I would recognize any of them tomorrow if I saw them on street – nor they me. Of course, we were all masked. But maybe I would – if I could see their eyes again. And I'm not exaggerating when I say that most of all, those eyes conveyed a profound kindness. And laughter, and concern, and compassion, and dedication—and a toughness that allows them to do it all. 

I'll tell you a secret: I am a person who often has a weird response to unexpected kindness - it makes me cry. I welled up more than once yesterday afternoon. I may have been just one of many for them – this is just what they do - but for me, a bond was made. I will always remember them. 

Make no mistake: it’s no hardship to be home in your sweatpants with your gel manicure looking a little ratchet, and your spouse and kids seeming more like houseguests who have overstayed their welcome. Today, I want you to feel really, really blessed and grateful, and if you’re like me, a generally healthy person who never really gave too much thought to the job that these people do, I hope I was able to convey just a little of it. 

That school nurse who rescued me put it this way: “I took an oath when I graduated just as physicians do. I have followed it for 28 years and it has never let me or my patients down.” That whole oath thing is good and important and all, but the heart behind it gives it grace. 

So, if you get an invitation to do one of those car processions where you beep your horn and cheer for the local health care workers as they go in to, or leave, work– get in your car and go. Or, just mail them each a check for a million dollars. Either way.

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Let The Flames Begin (Chapter 32)

Long author note but please read.

First off, I can’t believe there’s only two chapters left of this before it ends and then the sequel starts. I actually feel really sad loool

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past few days about the sequel and where I want it to go. You all know I hate writing canon and originally when I started this as a multi chap fic, I was gonna keep it totally AU and they never met the group. But stupidly, I changed my mind.

I regret it so bad now, so I decided to come to a compromise with my brain. It will be somewhat canon but I’m making shit up as I go. I won't be doing dialogue line by line from the show. It's too tedious and when I did it with Blood in the Water, it killed the whole story for me doing it that way. Watching it over and over by the sentence, reading scripts, it's too much. There will be a lot of shit I’m mixing up with the sequel, AU elements and just doing my own thing.

I don't want to write the same shit you’ve already seen over and over with my OC just slotted in there somewhere looking awkward and out of place.

So this is just a warning; if you don’t like AU elements or things not strictly canon then don’t bother reading the sequel because it's gonna be so fucking different to the show.

It’s the only way I’ll ever write it because I've been dreading it so much and it’s really been getting me down.

That being said, there will be a break before I start the sequel when I work on some of my other already started fics so I can get them posted for you.

Also, so I talk about Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome here. This isn't something I have no knowledge on since I have it myself. So I’m writing here from experience and from all my appointments and speaking to doctors.

That being said, have some cute insecure Daryl  :’)

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

Daryl was sat skinning some rabbits he had caught in some of the snares. He had left Charlene sleeping soundly in the tent after staring at her and admiring her for fucking ever. He was a lucky asshole. He couldn't believe his luck. But he almost felt like this was his reward for everything shitty that had happened in his life. If this was life making up for shit, he would gladly take it. Merle walked over, two bottles of water in his hands and he plonked himself down next to him, setting a water next to him. Daryl grunted and gave him a grateful nod.

“So… have fun last night?” Merle smirked, making Daryl look at him warily. His face flushed and the tips of his ears turned pink as he stared at his brother. Merle just barked a laugh and shook his head.

“Ya little lady ain’t as quiet as ya thought she was. My tents right next to yers don’t forget,” he grinned. Daryl looked down, fighting the smirk that wanted to make its way onto his face. He couldn't help it. Not when he thought about how he had the prettiest girl alive writhing under him last night.

“What d'ya do with the rubber? Don't tell me ya tossed it near my tent,” Merle snorted. Daryl paled, realisation dawning on him. How the fuck had he forget that one? Was he that far gone with his lust that he just didn't give a shit what happened? Merle eyed him carefully, reading that look all over his damn face.

“Boy, don’t tell me ya didn't use one,” he glared at him. Daryl looked at him, looking almost like a scolded child as he berated himself internally for being so fucking careless.

“Are ya fuckin’ stupid? Ya wanna knock her up when the dead are walkin’ around?” Merle growled at him, resisting the urge to smack him around the head. He had taught his brother better than this. Daryl lowered his gaze. He knew he was right. A baby was the last thing they needed. And besides, what if she didn't want a fucking baby with him? Who would want to birth a fucking Dixon? No one, that's who. Not to mention how soon it was, they had only just found the balls to admit they liked each other and now they might end up parents? Now he was panicking, his mind going to places he wished it fucking didn't. He felt the fear and panic welling in his chest as it tightened and he cleared his throat.

“I just...I didn’t think,” he muttered tensely.

“Yeah well ya better fuckin’ pray she ain’t knocked up,” Merle huffed, shaking his head at him. It was bad enough thinking he might have gotten her pregnant, but adding on Merle's severe disappointment in him, the day was starting to sour considerably.

He couldn't settle, the anxiety was bubbling under his skin and he was trying to calm himself. He had been doing okay with trying to not freak out, to take a minute to breathe when he felt it coming. But now it was overwhelming and he got up, going into the tent. She had said he needed to talk to her when he felt that way, and if he didn't fucking talk to her about this, he would flee and never show his damn face again. He had to swallow his pride with this, no matter how awkward the talk might be. Now he was with her, he knew he couldn't be a stubborn asshole and ruin it. It just might kill him. When he got in the tent, she was awake and sitting up as she sleepily rubbed her eyes. She gave him a smile and his chest constricted. His throat closing up as he glared at her stomach like he expected it to start growing right in front of him.

“We ain't use protection last night,” he blurted. His face looked panicked and Charlene blinked at him for a moment. She could tell he was starting to freak out.

“Um...Just sit down for a minute,” she said softly, raking her teeth over her bottom lip. He frowned, not grasping why she was acting so calm about the fact he had probably knocked her up and ruined everything.

“Didn't ya fuckin’ hear me? Ya could be fuckin’ pregnant now,” he frowned. She gave him a look and it almost reminded him of the look Merle would give him. The one that would make him submit. He found himself sitting down without a thought and he didn't know how the fuck she managed that one.

“Look...the chances of me getting pregnant are pretty slim,” she started softly, toying with her hands and looking somewhat awkward. He tilted his head a little, wondering if she was bullshitting him to calm him down. His distrustful eyes bore into her and she looked at him. She inhaled a deep breath.

“You remember how I told you my periods get bad?” she asked softly. He nodded, eyeing her warily.

“I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome,” she explained. Daryl blinked at her for a minute, sitting up straighter.

“The fucks that?” he asked warily, looking almost like he thought it was something that could kill her.

“It's nothing life-threatening or anything. My ovaries and hormones are fucked basically. But doctors have told me chances of me getting pregnant are really low. That I’d have to go on some meds and stuff for it to happen,” she shrugged, picking at her nails. He swallowed thickly as he let the information sink into his brain. She looked sad and it made his heart ache painfully in his chest. This was new information about her, but he gathered it was personal and not something Anna would have blurted to him if he was around.

“So...ya can’t have kids?” he asked, his voice low. It made him feel all weird inside. A second ago he was freaking out about the thought of knocking her up and now a dull ache was spreading from his chest to the rest of his body. He hadn't ever wanted kids, he hadn't ever thought he would meet someone he cared about that wanted him back. But somewhere in the deepest darkest parts of his fucked-up mind, there was a little voice that was hoping that maybe one day, the world wouldn't be in such a fucking state. That maybe they could start a real family and settle down. It was the voice he smothered constantly because hope got you nowhere in life. But it was there subconsciously all the same. And now he was left with a hollow feeling growing in his chest that he didn't know how to deal with.

“It's not that I can’t. It can happen. It just usually takes a while for most girls, and sometimes not at all, especially without the meds. When I used to go to my appointments, there were a lot of girls there who were trying for a baby. One woman had been trying for 10 years and it still hadn't happened,” her voice wavered slightly and Daryl looked at her. Really looked at her, pushing his own selfish feelings aside as he saw her eyes glistening with tears. She was picking at her fingers unable to look at him and he knew deep down, this was something she had struggled to accept. Hell, he was currently struggling to accept it and it wasn't his fucking body. He reached out, taking her hand and her eyes snapped up to his as a tear fell down her cheek. She snorted at herself, wiping her eyes with her free hand as her cheeks flushed.

“Sorry. I haven't really thought about it in a while with all this going on. If you wanna use protection from now on we can. But chances of me getting pregnant are really low,” she muttered looking embarrassed. Daryl's chest hurt and he brought her hand up to his lips, kissing her knuckles sweetly. It made her smile a little as she glanced at him.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for Peaches,” he said softly. He admired this tiny girl sat in front of him. Her life hadn’t been fucking kind to her with the shit it had thrown at her. Yet she always remained herself. She stayed hopeful and happy. She was still able to smile. She hadn't let all the bullshit in her life ruin her like he had. She was stronger than she would ever even realise. That's why he loved her. I’m sorry, what now? His eyes widened a little as he looked down. Is that what the feeling was in his chest every time he looked at her? He hadn't ever been in love with anyone before. The revelation jarred him as he tried to calm his breathing so she didn't know anything was wrong. He was trying to be supportive now, she didn't need him having a fucking panic attack on her. He could run off into the woods later and freak out on his own.

“Let's get some breakfast,” she smiled at him, wiping her eyes. She looked like she was doing a little better now. He wasn't sure if she was just good at hiding it or if she was over it for now. But all he could think about was the fact he was pretty sure he loved her. He wasn't sure how to deal with it. Did it change things? What if she didn't love him back? What if all she could muster up for his hick ass was liking him and it never went any further? Fuck my life. He gave her a weak smile, the best he could give her with his head turning against him. He didn't want her to ask what was up with him, he had no intention of telling her. Ever. He just nodded before they both climbed out of the tent.

He was about to walk over to the rest of the group with her to eat with them, but she grabbed his wrist and stopped him. He blinked down at her. Once again getting lost in her green eyes. It calmed him somewhat for a moment. But it wasn't like he could just stand there staring at her forever to try and calm himself. She leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss to his lips. He felt like he melted into a puddle. Such a fuckin’ girl, man. She hadn't ever kissed him in public before. His cheeks flushed as the corner of his mouth quirked up into a small smile. He couldn't even help it. It felt good that she would kiss him in front of people. He hadn't so much as touched her, held her hand or anything when they were around the others. He didn't want to embarrass her. It was bad enough they knew they were together since he had lied to Shane that day. He didn't want to make her feel embarrassed or self-conscious about being with him. So he kept his distance. But now, here she was kissing him, not giving a shit and it made him feel good.

Not long after breakfast, he was down by the quarry. Charlene was helping the women out in the group doing chores back at camp and he needed a minute to himself. He had told her she didn't need to help out. He was still unhappy being stuck here with the group and he didn't think she needed to do a damn thing to help out. But she had been firm she wanted to. Saying that even Merle was helping out with hunting and prepping the food. His brother had been trying to be on his best behaviour since Charlene came back. He knew the others in camp had been surprised. He was a little less of an asshole and didn't pick fights for no reason. At least with anyone that wasn't Shane. Merle didn't like Shane one bit, neither did Daryl. But he wasn't as aggressive as before and he could see the relief in everyone. It made him feel a little guilty. Sure he didn't like any of them, but when he thought the girl was dead, his brother was fucking terrorising people in camp and Daryl had just fucking let him. He couldn't bring himself to care. He was guilty himself because of that and he was glad things had sorted out.

But now his mind was going a million miles a minute. He was confused. Did he love her? He didn't know what the fuck he felt and it was driving him mad. It wasn't something he could just ignore. His mind wouldn't let him, he couldn't just accept the fact he felt something and leave it well enough alone. He was terrified and he needed to fucking know what it was and how to deal with it. He hadn't ever been in this situation before. He was gnawing at his thumb as he paced and suddenly Amy was walking down near the water with some clothes in her hand. He glared at her, continuing to pace.

“Are you okay?” she asked carefully as she watched him, looking like a caged animal. He didn't mind Amy so much. She wasn't as annoying as some of the others and she didn't look at him and his brother with complete disdain. Only whenever it was deserved.

“Fine,” he bit out. He would have gone back to camp to get away from her. He didn't like her watching him unravel like this. But if he went back to camp then Charlene would see him and know something was up. He didn't want to go off to hunt because his head was all over the place. He didn't much feel like having a biter take a chunk outta his ass ‘cause he wasn't in the right frame of mind. Amy watched him warily from the corner of her eye as she started washing the clothes. After another few minutes of him pacing, she sighed and stood up looking at him.

“You can talk to me if you want. I won't say anything. It might make you feel better,” she shrugged. She just wanted him to calm the hell down. He stopped pacing, right eye twitching a little as he tried to calm himself a little. He didn't want to talk to anyone about this. He wanted to bury it deep inside of him and forget all about it, but his mouth clearly had other fucking ideas.

“How the fuck d’ya know if ya love someone?” he blurted. His eyes widening and cheeks flushing that it had left his fucking lips. Alright, time to go off into the woods and put a bullet in my damn head.

A grin worked its way onto Amy's face and she looked at him with a weird look. Like understanding dawned on her face at why he was out here losing his mind just a little.

“Well… first off, if you're thinking about it this much, you probably do love her. But it depends on the person and how they make you feel. How does Charlene make you feel?” she asked with a small smile. Amy and Charlene had become somewhat friends in the time she had been in the camp. Daryl had noticed she was the one person Charlene would actually laugh with and seemed to hang out with the most.

“She makes me feel a lot of shit. Mostly that I wanna run into the damn woods and never come back,” he muttered, making her snort at him. He shot her a glare as she covered her mouth, looking sheepish.

“In a bad way or a good way?” she asked, watching him as he rolled his shoulders and sighed.

“Good I guess. It's just… I start to freak out. I ain't used to this shit and she makes me feel all kinds of shit I ain't used to. Makes my chest feel tight like my heart’s about to explode,” he huffed, glaring at the floor. Amy bit her lip to stifle her grin. It was weird seeing Daryl like this and she found it cute. Everyone had noticed how different he and Merle were since Charlene came into the group.

“And how do you feel about that?” she prodded, watching him. He shrugged, pacing just a little again and he worked his jaw as he tried to make sense of his thoughts.

“Don't know how the fuck to feel. It’s just...she gives me that fuckin’ smile that knocks me on my ass. It makes my insides turn to mush and it's like...as long as she’s smilin’ at me like that, then it’s all okay.  Nothin’ else matters except to keep the damn smile on her face,” he rambled. He stopped his pacing and looked at Amy who was smiling at him and he sneered. He hated that he opened his fucking mouth at all and now he had embarrassed himself in front of her.

“That's so sweet,” she grinned. He squinted at her and she masked her smile quickly.

“I’m just saying, it sounds like you do love her. But I don't think that's such a bad thing. Love these days can be hard to find. If you’ve found your person, then you’re lucky,” she said softly.

He chewed on his lower lip, looking at her through his lashes as her words soaked into his mind. She had a point, yet the voice in his head wouldn't leave him alone.

“And what about if she ain't feel the same?” he asked warily, suddenly looking boyish and so vulnerable that Amy had to resist the urge to hug him. She hadn't seen this side to him. He was always so gruff and now he was unsure of himself.

“In my opinion, I think she does. I mean, she never shuts up about you for one thing. No matter what we’re doing its ‘Daryl this and Daryl that’. Not to mention the way she looks at you when you aren't looking,” she smiled. She seemed to be enjoying the whole thing way too much but he wasn't surprised. She was always gushing romantic girly shit, it just seemed to be something she was into.

“And how does she look at me?” he asked curiously.

“She looks at you like she just realized what love feels like...The exact same way you look at her,” she smirked, quirking her brow with a knowing look. He looked down, the whole thing getting too touchy-feely and awkward for his liking. He swallowed thickly as he thought about what she said. Did she really look at him that way? He knew what she looked like when he was looking at her. Those sweet smiles and shiny eyes. But he didn't know she was looking at him when he wasn't looking. That's what he did to her all the time. Staring longingly after her no matter what she was doing.

“So...this is what love feels like? Fuckin’ butterflies every time she looks at me? Just starin’ at her wonderin’ how the fuck I got so lucky?” he asked, wiping a hand over his face.

“Yep!” she snorted. He shook his head and looked down as he huffed a laugh.

“Shit, I’m in way over my head here,” he muttered. She pat his arm quickly, trying to be reassuring and he was thankful she hadn't pushed her luck and lingered a little. He might have thrown her in the water and bolted if she did.

“You’ll do just fine. I think you're cute together. Just don’t freak out on her and it’ll all work out,” she smiled up at him.

“Do I...do I tell her?” he asked warily. His eyes wide as he looked spooked at the notion. She stifled the laugh bubbling in her chest. He looked so clueless.

“That's not for me to say. If you want to, then tell her. If you aren't ready yet then that's fine too. There's no need to force it to happen. Just take your time and let things happen naturally. You don't need to pressure yourself,” she explained. Her words were comforting to him. No need for pressure, take his time. He could do that. Now he knew just what those weird feelings were that he kept having, he could try and deal with them. And he kept thinking of Amy's words about the fact Charlene talked about him all the time. That fact she was always looking at him when he wasn't looking at her. It felt weird to think she might feel the same way, but he wasn't about to get his hopes up.

He thought back to the conversation earlier with the girl. Despite the burning ache in his chest at what she said, it didn't change how he felt about her. He had been shocked at how disappointed he felt, that if they ever wanted a family it might never happen. He didn't even realise he wanted that, but with her, he wanted it all. But even through the disappointment, he never once wavered with how he felt for her. It didn't change a damn thing. If they couldn't ever have kids, so fucking what? He would still want to spend every waking moment with her and soak her in. It didn’t make a damn bit of difference in the end. He now knew he loved her, he could just carry on as normal and store those feelings away to keep for himself.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus @jodiereedus22 @easnuppa @fand0m-fiend @txladyj-blog @walkingdead-dixon

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Truth Pt. 12

Truth Master List

Request:

What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: FLUFF, FEELS, CUTE MOMENTS, only a little sad

A/N: Look. I’m a sucker for Bucky dancing, I’m a sucker for cheese (sometimes) and also I just thought these two deserved a moment like this after everything they’ve been through. Ugh. I love them.

Tags are open!

@midnightdream83 @mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @handplucked @buckysstar @sam-jae @marauder--harder @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @andreagf956 @marvelousmeggi @jewelofwinter @fairislesheets @animegirlgeeky @lydklein1 @katecolleen @siriuslycloudy2 @zannemes 

The next morning you slip out while Bucky is still sleeping for your appointment with Tony and Bruce.

You were happy he managed to get some sleep. Throughout the night you kept waking up, terrified he’d stopped breathing or constantly seeing that image of him bleeding from a wound you’d inflicted on him…

The moment the elevator opens you’re met with Black Sabbath blaring. It wouldn’t have been your first choice but you’re not mad about it either.

“Mornin’ Sparks!” Tony bellows from the other side of the room.

“Coffee or tea?” Bruce asks.

“No fasting?”

“Nah.”

“Coffee.” Bruce pours you a cup and brings it over to the chair you were at a few days prior.

“We just needed that for the initial blood tests.” You hold your arm out and he begins to attach the nodes.

Tony heads over when Bruce is about done, Dum-E on his heels. “Sorry, had to fix this idiot.”

“Be nice to him,” you smile at the robot. 

Tony laughs shaking his head and holds out a bag of banana chips. You take a few, munching them, mind wandering back to Bucky.

“Hey,” Tony sits next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “you ok?”

“I’m fine. I’m not the one who got a hole torn in their side yesterday.”

“It really looked worse than it was,” Bruce says, tone trying to reassure you.

“I know how much worse it could have been…” You feel the energy rise in you.

“Damn,” Tony looks at the screen. “Tell me, after a fight are you able to get your power up and running faster?”

“Uh… maybe? I’ve never really paid attention to it.”

“Because it took almost an hour for you to reach this high of a level the other day. And now what, five minutes?”

“Could be linked to emotion too.” Bruce would know.

“Yeah. Both maybe? Sorry, I know that’s not helpful.”

“No, but it’s interesting.” Tony studies the readings as the energy quiets. “The signature is also just a touch different-”

“Not quite as stable,” Bruce finishes. It’s like you’re not really there. Which is honestly ok with you.

“So you and Lefty,” Tony pops some chips in his mouth, “had quite the tiff. Guess you made up?”

You glare at him for a minute before responding. “I guess making him bleed was good enough payback for being a chauvinist.”

“Maybe,” he glances at the screen. “You should actually talk about it though.”

“Are you really giving me relationship advice?”

“More of a suggestion. Based on my own many and likely continuing mistakes.” Bruce snickers and Tony throws a chip at his head.

You laugh and sigh. “As much as I hate these words, you’re probably right.”

“You just broke rule #1, Y/N.” Bruce shakes his head in mock disappointment.

For the rest of your appointment, you run through some of the same things you did before. Bringing your energy up and down, letting it crackle from your fingertips, forming and dissipating.

Tony and Bruce both study the screens after you’re unhooked. “You boys need anything else from me?”

“Nah, you’re good Sparky. I’ll let you know if we need ya.”

“Have fun nerds!” You call over your shoulder as you head back to Bucky’s apartment to check on him.

When you open the door the smell of bacon makes your stomach growl. The sound of Bucky singing along to Sinatra’s Fly Me To The Moon brings a smile to your face and an ache to your heart. What if you’d-

“Y/N?” Bucky’s calls from by the stove.

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry I didn’t knock…”

He comes out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee for you. “You don’t have to knock.”

“Thanks,” you take the mug from him but don’t take a sip, your lips pursed, trying to settle your nerves.

“You’re welcome. Thought you may be hungry.” He nods toward the kitchen and heads back.

Slowly you follow taking a seat at one if the bar stools. You stare into the mug, the silence only broken by the sizzling from the pan for the next few minutes.

As he cracks and whisks the eggs you can’t stand it anymore. “Why are you doing this?” You snap.

He turns around, bowl in hand one brow raised. “Like I said, I thought you’d be-”

“I could have fucking killed you Bucky…”

“Yeah,” you feel your face contort at the admission. “But it was my fault.” You turn back to your coffee, the guilt too overwhelming.

He turns the burner off and comes to your side, “Look at me, Y/N.” His right fingers graze your left cheek, gently turning your face to his. The expression on his face is soft, eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. “You had it handled. I… I was... well I was acting like my fucking father. Like I knew better based on nothing but my own pride. Because of that I got in the way and got caught in the crossfire. That isn’t on you, baby.”

You reach a shaky hand out to touch his side lightly where the bandages were. Bucky takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips. “I can’t promise I won’t ever be an authoritative prick again. But I’ll work on it, I promise.” Sniffing hard you nod. “We ok?”

“Yeah. We’re good.”

The two of you enjoy a nice breakfast and have just curled up on the couch to watch a movie, both of you still tired from the mission, when Tony texts you:

“Hey. Can you come back for a minute? Wanna talk about something.”

You sigh heavily.

“What is it?” His back is pressed against your upright torso, head on your chest. Tilting his head to the side he looks up at you.

“Tony needs me to come back to the lab for something.”

“Ok,” Bucky groans a little as he sits up, the exhaustion clearly kicking in. “Tell him if he keeps you too long he’s gotta deal with me.”

You laugh, “You got it, Sarge.” Standing you lean down and press a kiss to his forehead.

Tony’s at his desk, the lab quiet for once. It’s unnerving.

“What’s so bad that you don’t even have music on, Ton?”

“Huh?” He looks at you distracted. “Oh! Nothin’ bad just needed to focus and couldn’t find the right song.” He flashes you a half smile.

“Tony…?”

“I just can’t work out how you tick. It’s unlike anything we’ve seen…”

You can’t help but laugh bitterly, “Well you’ve only tested me twice.”

“True but the results are so different. I mean… the base readings are pretty similar but… I just hate a problem I can’t solve, or that I don’t even know how to start.”

“Are you trying to… fix me, Tony?” A cold feeling of betrayal begins to settle over you.

“No! Absolutely not!” He looks horrified and you feel like an idiot for thinking that. “Unless you want me to… I just want to be sure we can keep you, ya know...”

“From blowing up and killing everyone?”

He rolls his eyes, “I was going to find a more tactful way to put it.”

“Tact isn’t your style man.”

“Ouch!” He dramatically grabs his chest. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d be cool with me tagging along on your next few missions as a non-combatant. I just want to monitor your levels in real time, see how they change in combat vs. in a controlled setting. But I don’t want you to feel like I’m babysitting you.”

You think about this. It could be a little weird. Tony usually stayed out of most basic missions, only really getting involved in the ones where they needed the extra firepower. Honestly you always like when he’s along and you can think of another good reason to have him…

“I’m game. But I need you to promise me something.”

Tony’s brows raise with suspicion. “That makes me nervous… suuuuuure.”

“If you’re with us and something goes wrong. If I’m down or compromised in some way… get him out.”

Tony’s face settles into a stoic mask as the weight of what you’re asking settles over him. “Y/N…”

“Look, I don’t have any intention of throwing myself to the wolves or anything but after yesterday… I just don’t trust he won’t do something stupid to save me if he thinks he can… no matter if it’s a lost cause.”

“He’ll put up one hell of a fight. I saw how he looked at you Y/N the other day. That man is-”

“You can handle him. Plus… you’re the only one that can besides Steve and…”

“He’ll hate anyone who pulls him out. You figure I can handle that.” He smirks.

“Tony…”

“No you’re right, I can. And I am the only one. So yeah, deal.”

You give him a cold smile, it wasn’t exactly something to be happy about. “Alright.” You stand and extend a hand to shake on it.

He takes it and pulls you into a hug. “Just don’t put me in that position Sparky. You don’t get to just cash it in, ok?”

“I won’t.” You pull away, this time your smile is genuine. “Besides, without me, who’re you gonna make playlists for?”

“Exactly.”

You enter the elevator with a strange sense of hope warming your chest. A sense that grows and grows over the next few months.

For the most part, you’ve moved into Bucky’s place. Sure you still technically have your own apartment in the tower but you haven’t stayed there one night since that mission where you injured him. Your clothes, records, and even some of your photos have made their way into his drawers, shelves, and onto his walls slowly but surely.

On nights where you’re not beat from a mission or eating with the team, you cook together. Dancing everything from the waltz to tango as various dishes bubble away on the stove. You even convince him on a few occasions to invite one or two people over for dinner or drinks that aren’t Steve.

Nat and Clint join you one night. Another it’s them and Steve, which proves to be hilarious back and forth between best friends calling one another out on their reckless bull shit. You laugh yourself to tears more times that night than you can count. When you have Sam over things are awkward for about a half hour before they gang up on you to argue the superiority of Star Trek to Star Wars.

Tony accompanies you to whatever missions he’s able. Mainly he hangs back in the jet, looking over the feedback Jarvis sends him from the cuffs he modified to not only offer (hopefully anyway) emergency stabilization but to give him readings on your energy levels, how the signature changes, temperature fluctuations, and other minute details you never pay attention to.

When you’re back on the jet he usually would do a more thorough scan as you fly home. Determined to figure out just what Hydra did and how he can give you the most control possible. It warms your heart that he’s so determined.

Only twice do they pick up on any more energy signatures that come close to your own. The first was a false positive. While the other seemed to be just residual energy since the facility appears to have been abandoned for years. In fact, you’re fairly certain it was one of yours, judging from the way your head feels like it’s filled with static and the soul-shredding dreams that followed that night.

Bucky held you while you screamed and cried. You weren’t able to make your tongue form the words, some block in your brain preventing you from speaking about that facility. It was ok though, he understood. The night was spent with him rocking you gently in his arms, singing softly to you, grounding you to a present so wonderful it made the past truly feel like nothing more than a bad nightmare.

You weren’t the only one to deal with ghosts though. It was a particularly brutal mission, the Hydra agents were determined to win or die… needless to say, they didn’t win. Bucky had been cornered with Nat by about 10 agents. When you saw them after they were both covered with viscera and blood, looking more like animals than humans.

That night you rolled over to find the bed empty the door to the bathroom cracked, the sound of the shower running seeping out. You padded quietly over, pushing the door open slowly, not wanting to startle him. Bucky was on the floor of the shower, head pressed to his knees. Scalding hot water hitting him from all angles, his skin pink and red. When he lifted his head you felt your heart shatter. His face a mask of fear, pain, regret, and horror.

He didn’t have to explain to you why, though he wants to. What he wants is irrelevant. Had you asked for a mission report he could have given it, could have recited every horrifying detail of the day. His mouth opens and closes as you tentatively approach.

“Zamorozka,” is all he’s finally able to manage in a shaky voice when you’re by the shower. Freezing. Cryo. That’s what they would have done after a mission like that just to be sure. Wipe. Reset.

Nodding you strip your clothes, stepping into the cloud of steam to sit behind him, warm him further with your body, pull him as far from that freezing hell as you possibly could. For a long while, you hold him, kiss his tense back muscles, remind him where he is. When you coax him out of the shower you tell Jarvis to crank the heat in the apartment. You wrap Bucky in cozy clothes and blankets and though you’re practically sweating you don’t care.

But even with those and a handful of other times that your past comes knocking in the night, the two of you find something neither ever hoped for. Happiness. He frustrates the hell out of you some days but he makes you laugh, never questions your silences, and goddamn if he wasn’t incredible in the sack.

And it seems that you make him happy too. You’ll catch him watching you from time to time, a warm smile lighting his features. He’s more personable to everyone, even Sam commenting that he likes him better now. Steve is convinced you’re bringing back more of his old self, you hope that’s true.

-

Bucky can’t help the smile on his face. All you’re doing is caring an armload of blankets in from the bedroom but still… it makes him unbearably happy.

Everyone is wrapped up in gala business. Some necessary evil PR stunt for the Avengers. No one has mentioned anything about having to attend to either of you so instead, you’re taking the time to watch movies and eat copious amounts of shitty food.

He pops a cheese puff in his mouth and you look over to him. “If you eat all those I’ll zap you.” Laughing Bucky walks over and tosses a neon orange ball at you. Effortlessly you catch it, munching loudly.

“What’re we starting with?” He settles next to you, tugging you close.

“Reservoir Dogs, Tony’s been harping on me to watch it and I just want him to shut up about it.”

Bucky laughs, “Alright. Hit it Jarvis.” The windows darken to block out some of the early afternoon light and the film starts.

They’re no more than 20 minutes in when Jarvis pops in. “Pardon the interruption, Captain Rogers is on his way up.”

You exchange a glance, “Everything alright, Jarvis?”

“To my knowledge, yes.”

When Steve raps at the door Bucky gets up to let him in. “Hey, sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s fine.” You pipe from the living room as they head in. “Cheese puff?” Steve smiles at the proffered bowl, never one to turn down a snack he grabs a handful as he sits.

“What’s goin’ on?” Bucky settles back at your side, automatically taking your free hand in his own.

“This damn gala.”

Bucky laughs, “You never did like a dance, Stevie.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Hard to when every gal had a foot on me at least.”

“Mhm. That was why.” He turns to you, “He just doesn’t like dancing.”

“You do though.” You both turn your eyes back to Steve, Bucky’s suspicion mounting. “That’s kinda why I’m here…”

He reaches over and nabs more cheese puffs, shoving some in his mouth before continuing. “Hill thinks maybe you should both attend.”

You just popped a puff in your mouth and begin coughing a bit, “What?!”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Steve holding a hand up in surrender. “She said it would be excellent PR for the team to let people see-”

“The reformed freak show?” Bucky’s grip tightens on your hand. This puts a bad taste in his mouth. Steve looks wilted and Bucky regrets his tone.

“No man, at least I don’t think it’s like that.” His fingers begin to drum on his knee. A classic Rogers tell that he’s nervous as all hell. “I think it’s more to show people that you’re not something to be afraid of, either of you.” Bucky feels you shift next to him.

“The public knows there are two former Hydra assets on the team. You,” he gestures to Bucky, “they know about from the Battle of The Potomac. But, Y/N, you’re a total mystery which is almost worse.”

Bucky stares at the place where your clasped hands rest. People fear what they don’t know. “So… this is a PR suggestion, not a team decision?” He can feel the tension in your body.

“Yeah, but everyone agrees it’s probably a good move. It’s a secure event, every attendee vetted. Plus it’s here in the tower so if you need to duck out, you can.”

“Bruce said the last one wasn’t bad,” your voice seems kind of small.

He looks over at you, your eyes also glued on the spot where your bodies connect. “Do you wanna go, doll?”

You laugh a little bitterly, looking up, “I mean… it’s not my thing, I didn’t even go to prom but if everyone thinks it a good call and will help PR… I kinda feel like we should.”

Suddenly he feels kind of excited, having you on his arm, dancing with you… Of course, there’d be all the other people, press, and… He swallows hard. “Alright. We’re in.”

“Thank god.” Steve looks genuinely relieved.

With the gala on Saturday night, your relaxing Thursday afternoon immediately shifts. Now there are clothes to be chosen and fitted, logistics to discuss, various preparations to be made.

Bucky is drug off with Tony and Pepper takes you on. Tony gets his tailor on fitting a suit for Bucky immediately since apparently what Bucky had wasn’t suitable, despite the fact that Tony keeps insisting that the event isn’t super formal. It makes him think of when he’d let his sisters dress him up. Except he’s more annoyed and less endeared.

The next day you’re both back in fittings after breakfast. When you’re done it’s lunchtime and you both look spent. Still, it’s off to a meeting with Hill to cover security details, as much for the attendees as all of you.

Most everyone would enter at the beginning of the party, do the press thing, answer a few preselected questions, etc. When they’re going over this Steve looks like he wants to puke. It’s the one time Bucky’s happy he’s known for being an unstoppable murder machine.

The two of you and Bruce would hang back, coming in an hour after the others once the event actually starts. This doesn’t mean there won’t be some pictures snapped throughout the evening or even that people won’t attempt to interact with you all but it will take the pressure of being in the spotlight off. All that’s really asked is that you all stay for at least a half hour but if you need to leave that’s ok.

No weapons would be allowed into the building. All of you were welcome to arm yourselves as you saw fit. While they never anticipate anything to go wrong, few were bold enough to make a move inside Avenger’s Tower, after all, it never hurt to be prepared.

Saturday morning comes and you’re both already over it. His initial excitement has been smothered in anxiety and general annoyance with the whole process. Plus he knows as soon as he sees Tony, he’s going to have to once again make it clear that he’s not cutting his hair.

“Let’s just say we’re sick.” You press tighter into his side, burying your face in his chest.

His lips curl a touch as he strokes the back of your head. “Don’t think that’ll fly, doll.”

“Thirty minutes has never seemed so long in my life. And after Hydra, I feel like that’s saying something.” You roll over onto your back next to him.  

He can’t help but laugh. “It’ll be fine,” he tangles his fingers with yours. “Besides, didn’t Tony say he put together a great playlist?”

“Not worth it.” Your phone buzzes on your nightstand. Groaning you pick it up. “It shouldn’t take a whole day to get ready for anything ever. It’s just not right.”

“You’ll have fun, Nat’ll be there.” You slide him a sidelong glance. “Promise after this we’ll see about running off someplace for a few days. Sound good?”

You smile before pouncing on him, straddling his hips, kissing him hard. “The thought of having you all to myself for a few days may just get me through this.”

Your phone buzzes again and you go to get off, he pulls you back, “I think they can wait a minute.” He lifts his hips to fully press the hard length of him against you.

“I think you’re right Barnes.”

His good mood lasts until the exact second Tony asks about his hair for the sixth time in the last three days. “Stark, if you ask me one more time I swear to god I’ll-”

“Alright, alright,” Tony’s hands are up. “At least pull it back.”

“Planned on it.���

“Give him some credit, Tony, the man wasn’t raised by wolves,” Clint pipes up from the couch where he’s waiting to try his suit on too.

Bucky doesn’t see you for the rest of the day. Pepper planned what she swore would be a fun ‘girls day’ for all the women on the team. He hopes you’re having fun but as the clock ticks closer his anxiety over everything is peaking. Seeing you, he knows will calm some of it. He’d face anything with you by him.

You were all meeting in the common space for a toast before the majority of the team went down to kick things off. When he gets there, it’s just the guys, drinking whiskey and lounging.

“I guess you clean up alright Barnes.” Sam lifts his tumbler of amber liquid in Bucky’s direction.

“You don’t look terrible either, Wilson.”

“Psh,” Sam scoffs as Bucky takes a seat by Steve on the couch, “I know I look damn fine in this Armani. Not that you’d know taste if it hit you upside the head.”

Bucky has to admit, Sam’s burgundy suit is pretty sleek. He’d opted for something black. Its slim cut seems strange but it’s the style now. The jacket, Tony insisted, could be worn open and thank god this wasn’t something he needed a tie for. In fact, the perfectly tailored white button-up was open a few buttons, making it fairly comfortable.

It’s almost twenty minutes before the elevator dings. Everyone but you and Natasha file out. Tony catches Pepper up in a passionate kiss. Hill looks incredible in pants that hug her legs and what looks like a men’s blazer without a shirt under, very her. The other gals look great too.

Since time was getting tight Tony goes ahead and gathers everyone around, popping a bottle of champagne and pouring glasses. Finally, Natasha saunters in but oddly you’re not with her.

“Sorry I’m late, had to figure out where comfortably put a pistol,” Natasha announces. She’s in a bold number. Gold, short, strapless, with a triangle cut out showing her cleavage perfectly. 

“Told you not to go with the Versace,” Hill quips.

“Ok, but how could I not. Just look at me.” She flashes Bucky a smile, “Y/N is right behind me.”

On cue, the elevator doors open and you step out and Bucky’s jaw hits the floor. You’re radiant in a floor-length black gown, sheer from the waist down with black overlays resembling roses with crystals providing shimmer, the neckline plunges almost to your waist, your arms bare. Your hair is swept and pinned to one side, curls perfectly shielding half your face, your lips a deep blood red. 

“Woah.” Steve breathes out next to him. “I don’t know if you can handle that Buck.”

“You may be right,” Bucky can’t take his eyes off you as you float over to them.

“I feel slightly ridiculous.” You say exasperated as he wraps you in his arms.

“You look beautiful.”

You smile softly, a slight blush on your cheeks. “Thanks”

“I may have to take back what I said about your lack of taste, Barnes.” Sam teases before Tony shuts everyone up for the toast.

When the time finally comes to slip into the party you grab his metal hand so hard you’d likely break a regular Joe’s bones. Bruce goes first. Since you’re supposed to wait a few minutes he pulls you into him. Kissing you, his fingers grabbing your hair by the roots, body pressed tights against yours. Your panting when he releases you.

“You’re lucky this lipstick is magic.” He laughs noting it didn’t budge.

“Ready darlin’?”

“Now I am.”

Hand in hand you walk into the room. The door is tucked in a back corner so no one really notices either of you for a minute. That is until Captain America just has to pull up next to you both.

“Save me,” Steve whines.

Bucky can’t resist laughing at how visibly uncomfortable his best friend is. He clasps his free hand on Steve’s shoulder, “Come on, pal. Can’t be that bad.”

Honestly, it wasn’t bad at all. People keep a wary but curious distance from the two ex-Hydra agents in their midst. This means when the other team members want to have a minute away from their PR faces they just gravitate toward the two of you. He wants to dance with you but honestly, he’s too nervous to drag you out into the big middle of it all. It’s fun to watch the others dance and get a little silly though.

After a couple of hours, Tony and Pepper approach you.

“Come on,” Tony’s free hand grabs Bucky’s.

“What?” Bucky has no clue what Stark is playing at.

“Grab that gorgeous woman and get on the damn dance floor with us.”

Pepper smiles at you with a wink, “As much as I hate to agree with Tony, that Elie Saab you’re wearing is too beautiful to be a wallflower.”

A few light synth notes start and all the sudden you bust out laughing. “Foreigner?! Tony? Really?”

“This is a great song!” Tony’s face takes on a mock look of offense. Bucky doesn’t know the song but he’s not hating it, unlike some of the other stuff you had him listen to.

As the four of you begin to sway on the dance floor the crowd there thins out a bit. You’re still giggling in his arms. “Tony is such a lame ass.”

“What was that Sparky?” Tony shouts over the music.

“You’re a lame ass!” You shout back, Pepper belts a laugh and there are distinct snickers from the crowd.

You’re both laughing as he spins you out when the melodramatic chorus kicks in. The two of you manage some kind of waltz sway mashup, giggling like kids.

Natasha and Sam join you all and seem to be getting a kick out of the song choice too, singing along. As the song turns takes on a choral vibe you, Tony, and Pepper, along with a chunk of the crowd all join in. Bucky swears his face aches from smiling.

When it ends he can’t help but spin you into his arms and kiss you. A few whoops from around them makes it sink in just how public this is. Somehow he doesn’t really care. Your head falls back and your ringing laugh sends his heart soaring.

“Careful Tin Man,” Tony playfully elbows him, “wearin’ your heart on your sleeve there.” 

Bucky thinks that Tony Stark had never been more right in his life. 

[lilyvandersteen]

Puppy Eyes Chapter 19

So, uhm, if you need a warning for sexy stuff? Consider yourself warned. This is where the mature rating kicks in. Ahem. *Scuttles away to hide in a corner*

Thank you so much to everyone who sends me feedback - you’re wonderful and you spur me on to keep writing :-)

This story is also on AO3 and on Fanfiction.net.

The other parts can be found here: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 19: Perfect With You

Once the spell was broken and they were finally officially together, Kurt found out that the charm, affection and little attentions Blaine had shown him before were nothing to the love Blaine showered him with now.

The day of their first date was magical from the moment Kurt woke up, to delicious smells from the kitchen and Blaine’s incandescent smile the moment he saw Kurt. Kurt may have curtailed the poodles’ usual morning walk because the lure of a cooked breakfast was too strong to resist. When he got home, he practically inhaled the food Blaine set in front of him – so good!!

Because it was raining, Blaine gave him an umbrella as a present, and Kurt beamed as he opened it and offered Blaine his arm. For a moment, he felt like they were in a 1950s musical. He imagined the both of them tap-dancing down the street and had to tamp down his laughter.

Blaine took them to a gigantic museum where there was an exhibit about sea animals. The hall it was in was gorgeous. Kurt couldn’t stop staring everywhere – there was something so soothing about this ocean atmosphere.

They didn’t have to go far for lunch, yet they still got drenched before they reached the restaurant. Kurt’s hair was a wet, flat mess. He tried to get it back into shape using his emergency comb and the hair dryer in the restroom, but it stubbornly kept flopping down into his eyes. Ugh.

Kurt shrugged at his reflection and went back to the booth he shared with Blaine. Blaine had seen him in all sorts of sorry states – in clothes with grass and mud stains from his dog walks, in ratty sleep T-shirts, with a bedhead, sweaty in his workout gear – and he still hadn’t run for the hills, had he? So Kurt didn’t need to impress him at all, he could just be his floppy-banged self.

After another dog walk, Blaine bundled Kurt up in a blanket and they cuddled on the sofa, drinking tea and watching Casablanca. Once the tea cups were on the coffee table, Kurt tugged Blaine on top of him and threw the blanket over them both. They traded lazy kisses, and Kurt ran his hands over Blaine’s back, slowly, grinning when that elicited a pleased hum and a flutter of Blaine’s lashes.

Later that afternoon, they went to The Sweetest Thing bakery. Kurt guessed they both qualified as crazy for starting to plan their wedding while on their first date, but he really couldn’t care less. After all, they’d been living together for over a year, hadn’t they? They’d shared a bed and everything. They knew they suited each other well. So far, the only thing they hadn’t done together was have sex. And wow, that thought made his stomach swoop.

Mrs Peters was friendly and accommodating. She wasn’t fazed at all when Kurt started detailing exactly what he wanted on his wedding cake and started sketching it out on the napkins meant for the taste-testing. She nodded and smiled and made suggestions to enhance the design. When at long last, Kurt was happy with his final sketch, he looked up and saw that the table was a mess of discarded scribbled-on napkins, and he hurried to apologise.

Mrs Peters waved that off with a laugh. “It’s good to see someone who’s this passionate about their cake. Most of the time, if I want to know what design the couples want, I have to show them tons of pictures and they take ages to make up their mind. You know exactly what you’re going for. I like that.”

Then, they tried out the different kinds of cake the bakery had on offer, and Kurt started to fidget a little when he was on his fifth piece of cake and still hadn’t tasted anything he liked. When the next cake hit his taste-buds, though, he beamed. Now THAT was more like it, and he was quick to say so.

Blaine had no objection, so that was their wedding cake sorted out. Kurt looked at the sweet Mrs Peters and wondered whether she’d be smiling like that if she knew they’d only been together for a day and weren’t engaged at all.

I bet she wouldn’t… I really should talk to Blaine about this situation. It’s ridiculous. But then why does it feel so right?

Mrs Peters filled in the order form, and asked for the wedding date.

Oops, busted!

But Blaine just told the baker that they hadn’t decided on the venue yet, and summed up the dates for the top three. Mrs Peters didn’t so much as blink when Kurt and Blaine started discussing the venues, and just asked them to repeat the dates so she could write them down.

Huh. I guess we’re not the first indecisive couple she’s dealt with.

Before they left, Blaine paid half of the price of the wedding cake, and Kurt went pale when he heard the amount.

“The remainder will have to be paid three weeks before the wedding date,” the sales assistant told Blaine, who nodded and smiled at her with a “We’ll be back!”

Wow. I guess we’re really doing this, then.

Part of Kurt was excited and thrilled. Another part just wanted to laugh hysterically.

Blaine didn’t seem to think this was at all odd, though. As soon as they stepped out of the bakery, he was already on the phone calling their top two venues for an appointment, and five minutes later, they were whizzing to the New York Public Library in a cab.

Whatever qualms Kurt had all flew out of his head the moment he climbed the steps to the library and went in.

What a place! He loved EVERYTHING about it. The ceilings, the lighting, the staircases, the atmosphere. It was all phenomenal. More importantly, it felt right for them. Kurt could totally picture Blaine standing there at the front in a gorgeous black tux, and looking at Kurt like he’d hung the moon and the stars in the sky. He could picture his friends and family sitting here, and he even knew what decorations he wanted. Yes, if they really did get married, this was the place where it would happen.

Blaine smiled at Kurt when he voiced his thoughts, and without any more ado, he went to the front desk to book the venue for the fourteenth of July.

Kurt had the feeling that whatever he’d want for their wedding, he would only have to snap his fingers and Blaine would make it happen, like a genie from a lamp. Only, it had to be Blaine’s dream wedding, too, so he told Blaine he’d be quite happy to check out the Bowery Ballroom too. Kurt had lost his heart to the Library, but if Blaine preferred Bowery, well, marriage was about compromise, wasn’t it?

Blaine chuckled at the way Kurt stumbled over his sentences in his eagerness to prove to Blaine that this didn’t have to be all Kurt’s choice, and just shook his head. “I’ll cancel the appointment at the Bowery Ballroom, beautiful. It’s not a problem at all. I love the Library too.”

Even though they’d eaten a lot of cake, the both of them were hungry again, and they decided on Thai takeout before the poodles’ evening walk. This time, Kurt insisted on paying, telling Blaine he’d spent quite enough money for one day.

When they went to bed, Blaine apologised, apparently under the impression that their first date had been a disappointment for Kurt.

Kurt was quick to set him right, with words and with kisses. This time, he was on top of Blaine, and he took advantage of his position to nibble at Blaine’s neck and suck a hickey on his collar bone. That made Blaine gasp and writhe and buck up as if he couldn’t help himself, and Kurt moaned when that caused delicious friction.

The next thing Kurt knew, Blaine had grabbed his butt, and they were rutting together as people possessed.

It took him only minutes to come so hard he saw stars. He kept moving until Blaine froze, gripped Kurt’s ass more tightly still and moaned high and long.

Then Kurt flopped off Blaine’s chest and turned on his side facing Blaine.

Kurt smiled and gave Blaine a bunny kiss. “Hey.”

Blaine’s answering smile was a bit loopy. “Hey.”

“That was not how I’d expected my first time to go,” Kurt giggled, and wrinkled his nose. “Coming in my pants like I’m fifteen again. Gross.”

Blaine’s smile fell off his face in an instant, and Kurt could see a new apology coming.

“But it was perfect,” Kurt stressed, before Blaine could speak. “It was perfect, because I got to share this with you.”

He cupped Blaine’s face and kissed him again.

“Next time, we’ll just have to remember to lose the clothes before we have sex, okay?”

Blaine nodded. “Okay.”

Kurt yawned. “Quick clean-up? I’ll bring you another pair of boxers.”

Kurt slipped out of bed to fetch a wash cloth, new pyjama pants for himself and boxers for Blaine.

“Hips up,” he commanded when he came back, and he stripped Blaine quickly of the soiled boxers and cleaned him up. That made Blaine’s dick twitch.

“Ready for another go?” Kurt laughed. “Maybe we’ve really become teenagers again!”

Kurt gave Blaine’s dick a few experimental tugs, and smirked when that made it swell up.

“You too,” Blaine commanded. “Pants off.”

Kurt kicked off his pants and tried not to feel self-conscious as Blaine’s eyes roved over him.

“Gorgeous,” Blaine breathed. “You’re so gorgeous.”

Kurt felt his face heat up, and looked away, but Blaine hooked a finger under his chin and turned his head to face Blaine again. “Don’t go shy on me, beautiful. You’re gorgeous, every inch of you.”

Blaine’s eyes shifted down, and he asked, “Can I…?”

Now Kurt’s cock twitched too, and they both laughed. Kurt quickly grabbed his lube from the nightstand and squirted some onto his own hand and then on Blaine’s.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Together?”

As soon as Kurt felt Blaine wrap his hand around him, he knew this wouldn’t last long at all. It just felt too good. He tightened his hold on Blaine’s dick, and heard him whimper and moan. He chanced a glance at Blaine’s face, and felt a wave of affection go through him when he saw Blaine’s blissed-out expression. His eyes were closed, his lashes nestled against his cheeks and fluttering the tiniest bit, and he was smiling slightly.

Kurt let his eyes wander. He’d seen Blaine naked before, of course, but back then, he’d made an effort to look away and not stare. Now, he did stare. He lingered on Blaine’s strong shoulders and arms, his tiny waist, the little belly that was somehow more attractive than a six-pack would have been, his powerful thighs and pretty ankles. But most of all, he focused on the dick his hand was working over – rock hard under the velvety soft skin, with a glistening wet top that produced more and more precome the longer Kurt slid his fist up and down over it.

Meanwhile, Kurt was teetering on the brink himself with every move Blaine’s hand made, and little moans escaped him every time the upper fingers passed the rim of his cock head and sent a sensation through him that was nothing short of electric. It made him increase his own pace, until his fist was a blur over Blaine’s dick and Blaine’s stomach tensed up. And then Blaine’s hand made a twisting move, and Kurt was coming, coming, coming.

When the waves of pleasure ebbed, he realised he was gripping Blaine’s dick way too hard. He loosened his hold a little, and felt warm wetness dribbling over his fist.

“That was amazing,” Blaine sighed.

Kurt looked at him. “You… You came too?”

Blaine giggled. “Just after you did. You look so hot when you come. I just…”

“Next time, we’re taking turns,” Kurt declared. “I want to see you fall apart, too.”

Blaine grinned at him. “Okay.”

“But that will be for tomorrow. I’m so – YAWN – tiiiired!”

They went to the bathroom to wash their hands, and Kurt wet another washcloth to wipe their dicks and bellies clean.

Kurt yawned again, his jaw cracking, and Blaine steered him back to bed and took him in his arms. “Sleep, beautiful.”

“Sweet dreams, honey.”

K&B

Kurt slept like a rock after that, right through his alarm, and when he finally woke up, he found that Blaine had already taken the dogs on their morning walk and was now sitting at the foot of the bed, fully dressed.

Blaine smiled at Kurt and held out a mug of coffee.

Kurt sipped from it, and then drank more deeply, his brain becoming more alert the more caffeine hit his blood stream.

“Why didn’t you just wake me up?” Kurt asked, blinking and squinting at the too bright sunlight.

“You were sleeping so peacefully. Like an angel, beautiful. I couldn’t bear disturbing you.”

Kurt scoffed, and then his eyes widened and he grabbed Blaine’s arm. “Oh! You didn’t forget about Snowball and Summer and Titus, did you?”

Blaine grinned and shook his head. “All taken care of.”

Kurt sighed in relief. “Good. Good. Wow I… I haven’t slept this late in years. Even in Ohio, I get up at seven thirty. Eight a.m., tops. We need to get into bed earlier.”

Blaine grinned. “Sure, beautiful.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “To sleep, I mean!”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

Now Blaine was full-out smirking, and not so subtly staring at Kurt’s cock, which was, yes, hard again. Hello, morning wood.

Kurt drained his coffee mug and ran to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth. When he came back, he hugged Blaine from behind, hooked a finger under Blaine’s bow tie and tugged, whispering into Blaine’s ear, “Somebody’s wearing way too many clothes.”

Blaine’s breath hitched for a moment. Then, he turned around in Kurt’s arms, his lashes low and his voice dark caramel. “Maybe this is your next gift, waiting for you to unwrap it. There’s a bow and everything.”

“Mmm, yes, there is,” Kurt purred, and he deftly undid the knot. He made quite a production of undressing Blaine, running his hands all over his chest and back and making sure to rub over his nipples until they stood at attention. When Blaine was naked from the waist up, Kurt kneeled to pay just as much attention to Blaine’s legs while opening his belt and unbuttoning his pants, teasing him by rubbing over his inner thighs with his thumbs until Blaine started breathing faster and then groaned, “Kuuuuuurt!”

“What is it, honey? I’m just being careful with the package.”

Blaine snorted. “The package is about to explode, so you’d better hurry up and get me naked or I’m going to come in my pants again.”

Kurt conceded the point and took Blaine’s pants and boxers off without any more teasing.

“Lie down,” he commanded, and Blaine obediently flopped down on the bed, grinning up at Kurt.

“Can I… Can I use my mouth on you?” Kurt asked, and watched Blaine’s eyes widen and darken.

“Yes. Of course.”

Blaine was nodding like a bobble-head now, and Kurt giggled as he took Blaine’s dick in his hand and then bowed down to fit his mouth over it.

Blaine let out a strangled sound that made Kurt slide his mouth off his cock and look up again. “Yeah, I know I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do. Just… Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t, okay? Tell me.”

“No, no… That… You… It was just… Guh… That felt so good!”

“Ah. Okay. So much the better. Still. Tell me. Here I go again.”

And once more, Kurt sank his mouth over Blaine’s dick.

Blaine started babbling, his voice higher than its usual pitch. “Oh, yes. Oh, God. Oh, wow. Beautiful, your mouth. So good. I don’t…. This is… not gonna last. Like… not at all. Oh, do that again! Please? With your tongue? Ah!! Yes! Ahh! That feels… Oh my God. Kurt. Kurt! Kuuuuuuurt!”

And with that, spurts of come filled Kurt’s mouth. So much of it that he couldn’t swallow it all and some dripped down his chin.

Before he could get self-conscious about that, though, Blaine had cupped his face in both hands and was licking it off and then kissing Kurt, wild, dirty kisses that made his pulse race and left him a little light-headed.

“Your turn now,” Blaine announced, and pushed Kurt onto the bed. As his mouth slid over Kurt’s cock, Kurt had only one thought.

Best Sunday morning EVER.

[whisker-biscuit]

Harley Quinn is Not A Good Role Model: Chapter 6

Rated T-M for language and graphic descriptions of violence

Pairing: Dr. Flug/Black Hat

Summary: Dr. Flug Slys is a successful psychiatrist working at one of the world’s most respected mental institutes for the criminally insane. But this new patient is unlike anything he’s ever encountered. Flug is determined to help him, nonetheless.

Black Hat has other ideas.

Chapter 6: Therapy 101

10:50 am

Flug tapped energetic fingers against the doorknob of his office, debating whether arriving early would be seen as a sign of preparedness, eagerness or desperation. He had been ready to go for over half an hour and was trying very hard not to rush up. He looked at his digital clock on the desk and counted the individual seconds as they passed. The moment the minute changed to 10:51 he could stand it no more and left his sanctuary in a burst of anticipation.

As he started down the hall, a familiar, unwanted coworker came around the corner.

“Oh, Dr. Slys!” Bautista gave a cheerful smile, “I was just on my way to collect you for the session.”

“Um,” the doctor stopped as he was approached. “I thought you got my email last night.”

“Sure did, about my intern? I think it’s a great idea, giving Lauren the kid to deal with. Thanks for the help.” The larger man flicked a thumb briefly against his nose and sniffed.

“I said it’d be a good idea to ask for her input not, not just dump Mart – your intern on her. That’s still your responsibility.” Flug rocked back on his heels to look up, squinting irritably. “And please refer to her as Dr. Rorschach. She’s our superior.”

“Eh, I’ll call people whatever I want. Don’t worry your paper head about it.” There was a dismissive hand wave in his direction. “Anyway, you ready to go? I’m excited to get this one to crack.”

“I thought you said you read my email.”

“Yeah, I skimmed it, why?”

“Well I,” the psychiatrist wrung his hands up his clipboard, “I did some thinking yesterday and I mentioned this in the email, but I…” God, he hated confrontations in person. “I think it might be better if we, if I was the only one working with Black Hat, at least today.”

His colleague’s smile was waxen. “What do you mean, Doctor?”

“The patient seems a lot more comfortable with me than anyone else already, and you – you let some information slip that I didn’t want him to learn.”

“What, your name? Come now, Flug, that’s not really that important –”

“It is, it is to me, alright?” Flug couldn’t quite keep the biting tone out of his voice. “Look, I’m grateful for your help yesterday, I really am, but I really don’t think this case will need more than one psychiatrist. I’m sorry for interrupting your schedule so much already.”

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Bautista peered at him, smile gone now. “But I was under the impression that Patient 513 is incredibly dangerous and needs extra caution. I mean, you wouldn’t shut up about it yesterday. What changed, Flug?”

I don’t trust you to do your job, was the thought that made the doctor’s jaw clench, unseen. But he answered instead with, “I’m worried about the casualty count with so many people. I’m still planning to keep a security guard in the room with me, but if the patient prefers only one psychiatrist – which seems to be the case – I won’t refuse his request unless it becomes unreasonable or dangerous. I hope you understand.”

They stood facing each other, stock still, one face masked and serious and the other slowly turning a shade of violent red.

“I’m taking this up with Lauren,” Bautista threatened, eyes dark. “You think I’m incompetent, Flug? Think I’ll drag your perfect little record down? See how smug you are with a filed complaint against you.”

Flug’s fingers twitched at his side. “I’d be willing to discuss it with you and Dr. Rorschach, when time permits. I’m sure we can come to a compromise for everyone. But I’ve already requested the changes to the director. I’m sorry, but I have an appointment with a patient and I’m going to be late.”

He had to skirt along the wall to avoid touching his angry colleague, who refused to budge to make space for him. The psychiatrist felt a bitter, biting gaze on him until he turned the corner, and his teeth grinded together at the absurd politics of it all.

This was why he worked better with the inmates. Fewer games.

...

I was not able to sleep more than two hours at a time after my third encounter with my would-be therapist. Of course, that is not to say I had slept particularly well the evening before, either – plans of escape and wariness of a new environment puts a damper on one’s ability to relax, after all. But last night I was up for a very different reason.

Ninety minutes with this human who has so strangely caught my interest.

I must say I could not predict what that would entail. I have been the subject of attempted “psychological analysis” before, but it had been more of a plan by the authorities to draw a confession from me. When I realized this, I had only done the logical thing before making my escape.

Dr. Hyde passed away recently from medical complications, if I’m not mistaken.

But this…I could not detect an ulterior motive from Dr. Flug Slys. It might have been good acting on his part – highly unlikely – or a misjudgment on mine – nearly impossible. It is not something I encounter often among humans, regardless of their social status. Today would be an excellent chance for me to probe at him as he struggled to do the same. I was going to learn about this man, and why he was so fascinating, and how I might use that to my advantage.

It would be a lovely way to pass the time until my inevitable liberation from this depressing place.

When my doctor unlocked my cell door and fumbled pitifully inside with another guard, I was waiting impatiently in the center of the room.

“You’re late,” I hissed in mild irritation. I did not have access to a clock here, not yet, but I felt this truth in my being. The resulting apologetic flinch confirmed my instinct.

“Ah, yeah sorry, I was d-dealing with a…an internal issue. It t-took longer than I thought it would.” Dr. Flug rubbed his arm in sheepish cowering. He appeared distracted and I could not have that.

“Then you would do well to remember where your priorities lie, Flug. Tardiness is unacceptable.”

“Of c-course, of course,” he gave me a long look, and I smirked in return. “So I guess we should g-get started then, um. Are you, would you prefer t-to stand there or would you rather sit down? It’s a long session.”

“I’m aware of how long it is, Flug. Don’t patronize me.” I watched the armed guard carefully. “I don’t feel comfortable setting myself up so vulnerably while that man is present. I will sit when he leaves.”

“Oh sorry, we c-can’t do that. I – we can’t have a repeat of t-two days ago. It’s just a precaution until we can c-confirm our safety, you understand.” My doctor raised and lowered his clipboard several times. “But m-maybe I can have him s-stand by the door while w-we talk, if you’re willing to c-cooperate.”

“I suppose I can’t ask for much more than that,” I conceded begrudgingly. They really were getting smarter. What a shame. “Very well, I will sit over here, on my…mattress, if you will at least step away from your bodyguard for a more private conversation.”

“Sounds, uh, sounds fair.” But Flug waited until I had taken the initiative and placed myself on the raised padding before coming any closer. There was still a light limp to his step that sent a thrill of satisfaction through my wrapped hands.

I crossed my legs and smiled pleasantly. “So Dr. Flug, where is your colleague? I had assumed he would be here. Or is he prone to lateness as well?”

Something tense settled in my doctor’s shoulders. “Dr. Bautista won’t be joining us today, or h-hopefully any day. You, uh, if I can make the observation,” he cocked his head at me, “you didn’t seem to like him very much.”

“You may make that observation, and I will confirm it. Your coworker is a buffoon.” I watched as he tensed further. There was an expression in the reflection of his goggles that I couldn’t yet pinpoint.

“Oh no, he’s an intelligent man, please don’t say that,” Flug held his clipboard to where his mouth might be under that bag. “He just, we just thought it would be easier to have one psychiatrist in this session instead of two.”

“Please. That man’s egotism is plastered over every exaggerated action he makes. I’ve seen it before, and have no interest in tolerating it.”

As I watched, my doctor’s left hand reached up to run along the bottom rim of his bag, and he risked a glance at the present security, who was not interested nor interesting. When he looked back to me, I saw his hesitance become conviction.

“Is there…anything else that concerns you? Is that the only reason you don’t want him to sit in on our sessions?” Calculation. Determination. Motive. He wanted my answers for something, and I couldn’t hazard a guess at what that was.

Intrigued, I responded. “There are many reasons I have no interest in him, Dr. Flug. He has no sense of subtlety, for one, and cannot grasp at the concepts of perception and observation. Not a promising aspect of someone trained to rehabilitate criminals.”

My doctor was furiously writing my reply, possibly word for word by the way his pencil moved. He finished shortly and glanced upwards. “Is that, is that it?”

“No sincerity, either. I wouldn’t trust him with my scheduled mealtimes, much less my personal details.” As he continued scribing every accusation, I studied the way his shoulders remained tense, excited almost. The expression I had seen past his bag was increasing tenfold, and my eyebrows lifted as I recognized it.

It was mirth. He was trying to keep from laughing, trying to keep himself from revealing to me or our guard that he was enjoying this. I took the challenge.

“Would you like to know what else?” I asked innocently. Flug nodded, fast then slow, careful not to appear too eager. I uncrossed my legs. “He has no regard for you, and I assume that extends to his other coworkers as well.” I watched in glee as his hold on his pencil tightened in subconscious agreement. “He does not realize what the risks are in this job, nor what it means for you when he so offhandedly gave me the way to learn your name.”

There was a stop in the sound of granite on paper, and my psychiatrist looked up at me warily. He hadn’t forgotten our exchange yesterday, it seemed. I had not either, and although I still very much wanted to know the origin of his name, I bypassed the question in the air to ask a different one.

“May I ask why you want to know so much about your colleague, Doctor?”

“Oh, um,” Flug danced from one sneakered foot to the other. “We j-just like to document c-complaints from patients a-about…everything. For reference and uh, review.”

So he planned to use my testimony as leverage against his coworker. Without my permission. Unbelievable. In any other situation, I would have been provoked at best and murderous at worst. Even now, I could feel indignation bubbling up in a familiar spill.

“So my words will be shared with others without my consent?” I didn’t stand but drew my shoulders to full form. Irritation oozed along my tongue. “Are you telling me, Flug, that patient confidentiality means so little here?”

The little imp jerked back as if I’d scorched him. “No, n-no I didn’t – that’s not w-what I meant a-at all! I –”

“Perhaps not, but it’s what will happen, you naïve idiot.” I trembled to keep myself on the mattress. Any action that could be perceived as threatening would cut our time short, and I did not yet want that. Still, staying my hand was difficult.

“If y-you d-don’t want your p-preferences r-reviewed, I c-can keep it p-private!” Flug shook like the pathetic waif he was. His knees knocked together, making a sound that set my teeth on edge. I wanted to break them.

“You better see that it does, Flug, or else I will not be so hospitable,” My hands curled, sharp and stuck under their abhorrent restraints. “I will let you know when I want or don’t want something, and I will be very clear about it. Don’t you ever use my words without my permission.”

“I, I won’t,” the human took a moment to try to calm his tremors. “I p-promise I won’t.”

“Good. I’ll know if you’re lying.” I took my own moment, to let the anger drain from a cascade to its more regular hum. It was hard when my doctor couldn’t stop knocking his goddamn knees. “Would you kindly stop shaking, Flug!”

He sat down where he was, in the middle of the room, and the vexing sounds ceased. As my breath slowed and my irritation diminished, I noticed that Flug was forced to tilt his chin up to meet my gaze. I looked down at him and felt…hmm.

“What?” My doctor blinked quizzically and I schooled my expression with practiced ease.

“Nothing, Doctor. Simply grateful you can follow orders so promptly.” How curious. My sense of dominance was fairly common when I had power over a human in any form. Here, I could not deny that I had little hold of Flug beyond basic fear, but his position now brought forth that feeling of control, shallow but present at the base of my hat. I knew very well the influence of posture and placement in displays of dominance, but this felt distinctly different than usual.

Fascinating.

Of course, Flug took that moment to stand back up, destroying the bizarre scene and the thoughts it evoked. I waited impassively as he collected himself and filed away this discovery to consider later, when I was left alone again.

“Alright so,” my psychiatrist gave me a guarded, narrowed stare. I wondered what he might have picked up on. “I think it m-might be best if we move onto a – a different topic.”

I didn’t grace that with a response, and it made him nervous.

“Okay, um, okay. Let’s t-talk about,” Flug tapped at his left heel with his right toe. “Actually, how about you p-pick?”

This was new. I had never been asked to decide the source of discussion in meetings with ‘the right side of the law’. But it was irrelevant. I was finished with this session as soon as I learned my words would be used. It was time to end it.

“Mm,” I considered him. “Is there anything off-limits?”

“No, I, you can talk about a-anything you’d like.” He tapped at his right heel with his left toe. It was symmetrical to his previous action. “It can be trivial, or serious, or w-whatever.”

“Very well,” I shifted in my seat and leaned forward, showing teeth. “Let’s discuss you, Dr. Flug.”

“M-Me?!” My doctor squeaked, tugging at his bag. It was quite amusing. “I don’t think we should –”

“I believe you said I would choose the topic, and I have. If I am to share anything, I must know the little psychiatrist who hasn’t fled yet and seems to have a death wish.” Every word made Flug closer to the image of frightened prey. I took in a breath of the fear.

“Well, ah…” He was tense as a violin bowstring, and I waited for the inevitable, fourth time he would flee from me. “I mean, th-that is, I d-don’t think…” Any second now. It was in his body. He brought his shoulders to the bottom of his headwear. “I think, I…you know w-what? Fine.”

…What?

I blinked, dumbfounded, as he continued. “You’re r-right, I can’t e-expect this to go anywhere without, without t-trust. If we’re – if we s-start here, I guess it’s as g-good a place as any. Just…nothing a-about my name. Or the bag. O-Okay?”

I could not help it, my jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

This was not expected in the slightest. Every encounter with this creature, every mention of his name or personal life, sent him skittering like a spider caught in an open room by a human holding a newspaper. I couldn’t fathom why it was any different now.

“You h-heard me. Um. Ask, ask away, I won’t mind.” Flug’s hands flitted along his bag and clipboard.

It took longer to compose myself than I wanted him to see. My teeth cracked together into perfect symmetry and I stayed very still, looking my doctor up and down for signs of deceit. Once again, I failed to find any.

“Very well, Dr. Flug,” I hissed, frustrated. “Why do you bother toiling in a place like this? Surely someone of your…stature would be better suited in a place not so dangerous to your personal health. Maybe a lab, instead?”

“Nah, research has too many d-deadlines,” he answered fairly quickly, obviously acquainted with the inquiry. “And uh, for your first question, it’s j-just something that’s always felt right. You know? Something th-that kinda just clicks?”

I did know. It was the experience of villainy, in any and every form, that gave me that sense. I didn’t share that with him.

“You cannot expect me to believe it is only out of the goodness of your heart that you’re here, Flug.” I would have propped my elbows on my legs if not for this accursed jacket. Instead I settled with a slight lean to my right, towards my doctor.

“Ah, the m-money isn’t a small f-factor either, I guess,” Flug was relaxing, millimeter by precious millimeter. “But I’m n-not really here for m-much else. Just,” he rubbed at the back of his head, “wanna give others a ch-chance, you know? Who, might not h-have had it until now.”

“Do you think I deserve a chance, Doctor?” It was not as sarcastic as he would interpret it. I actually wanted to know his answer. “Am I someone who did not have that before?”

“Well I don’t know, I d-don’t know your history.” He looked at me, this lovely little enigma of paper and anxiety. “But I am absolutely w-willing to offer what I can. If you’ll have me.”

The choice of words made me chuckle. “If I’ll have you, Doctor? What are you implying? What goes on in these padded rooms, exactly?”

Flug was visibly red through his bag, which I wasn’t aware was possible and took great greedy pleasure out of. “I mean! I mean I didn’t mean! Not – that’s disgusting!”

He hit his clipboard against his face when the embarrassment became too much, babbling apologies and repulsion at the thought of anything at all. Quite the prude he was. My eyes drifted over to the security guard, who leaned against the door in clear apathy. His gaze was on some point far to the left. My doctor was still hiding his shame. Neither party was paying real attention to me.

I risked a shift to the end of the mattress where I sat. The guard did not stir, and Flug was busying himself with goggles practically buried in his notes. I tilted my head, calculating.

“What does ‘offering what you can’ entail exactly, Doctor? Is it merely counsel or does it extend to…physical therapy?” My grin was large.

The little wreck pressed the clipboard hard against what I assumed was his forehead, eyes covered completely. With a subtle glance at the oblivious guard, I stood very, very slowly. It went unnoticed even as I rose to my full height and didn’t move further.

“Really Flug, I’m flattered. For all my charm, I can’t say I get offers like this often.” One slide of a step, silent as death. “But I have a reputation to uphold, even in a promiscuous place as this seems to be.” Another slide. Four more to go, give or take. “What would the other villains say if they heard – can you imagine? Me, the greatest threat to mankind that ever lived, giving in to such basic, immoral, fleshy temptations.”

With every step closer I pitched my voice lower, creating the illusion of maintained distance. I probably did not need the caution. The idiot security was practically turned around, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. Flug’s eyes were closed, mumbling German things like “Bitte stoppen” and “Warum iche?”

I could smell his panic now, clear and strong and constant. Humans had the tastiest reactions. And without the doctor’s realizing it, I was standing over him, almost intoxicated by the rush of it all. I might have been stripped of my powers but stealth would never be an issue, it seems.

How I wished my arms were free in that moment. If I had all my limbs, all of them at my disposal, I could have done anything I desired. But one doesn’t need arms to contain, to restrain. I leaned close, planning to sink a hungry maw into that open vulnerable jugular, when I was forcibly stopped.

It was not because I was spotted that I was compelled to cease my ambush. Quite the contrary – the two were still flustering pathetically over my words. But it was Flug that made me stop, because I sensed something in that instant that forced me to reevaluate my summary of the doctor.

You see, there is an ambience of sorts that surrounds humans. Not so much an aura, as many so-called psychics would claim, but more a collective of their thoughts and actions and mood. It mostly manifests as a sort of darkness, although not one that anyone can see. It is a feeling, like the warning in your gut that tells you in no implicit terms to stay away, to beware. Most humans are not tuned into this frequency, for they scoff at the idea of a sixth sense, of the supernatural, of something they cannot measure or explain away. The few I have met that are in tune usually don’t have the instincts or training to pick up on the more subtle nuances of The Dusk, those people who hide their true selves so well. I myself am a connoisseur of it, like a wine taster at a banquet. Darkness recognizes darkness, so they say.

Being in a place like this, with so many humans and criminals shrouded lovingly in their dark ambiance, can cause a sort of thickness in the air not very different from a fog. Captivating as it is for a being like me, it often results in a jumble of confusion, as it is difficult to distinguish one Dusk from another.

Perhaps that is why I had not noticed the beautiful, sickening sense misting my doctor until this moment.

It was such a revelation that I could not bring myself to attack Flug as I would have otherwise. Instead, I absorbed the heady gloom like a chain smoker does the first pack of the day. It was a delectable taste as well – the quiet, unassuming kind that churns your stomach for reasons you cannot place, an uneasiness that is questioned and brushed off as paranoia even as it lingers. The sneaky ones are the most enjoyable at times.

And my dear doctor was very sneaky indeed.

Having wasted precious seconds, I reluctantly brought myself back to the physical plane and came so close to Flug that my cheek was nearly touching his bag. I whispered in his ear in the same way two days ago when I had assaulted him. But this was not a threat of the same nature, no. This was a sweet, sweet promise prompted by the wonderful feast he had unknowingly offered to me.

“Oh Flug, you should have told me. Your darkness is delicious.”

“Eeee!!” My doctor squeaked high enough to break glass and jumped at least a meter backwards, like one’s startled pet cat. He fell onto his rear and I laughed, loud and harsh and uninhibited, even as the guard finally did his job and corralled the terror-stricken human out the door in one fell swoop.

They left shortly after, but it did not matter. Our session was nearly over anyway, from what I could guess, and what had originally been a plan to settle curiosity from my overseer and formulate an escape became a wonderful, audacious need to taste more, to consume more of that sly little flavor from a little human Slys.

My dark little doctor.

Y’all thought Flug was the thirsty one but Black Hat has just found an oasis in a desert lol

[sarcasticfina]

pampered - 1/1

for: @laurenlikesstuff for her donation prompt: Darcy gets the love and respect she deserves/acknowledgement from the team/SHIELD/whoever

Exhausted did not begin to cover how Darcy was feeling. Don’t get her wrong, she loved working for Pepper and the Avengers, but there were days that she seriously regretted not still being the lab monkey that trailed behind Jane, trying to keep a cap on her crazy and encouraging her to meet basic hygiene requirements. She still managed to visit her friend in the labs, and she checked in with Ingrid, Jane’s new flunky, to make sure Jane was being taken care of, but Darcy’s primary job was acting as the ringleader to the Avengers media interactions. That meant keeping an eye on the social networking sites (or, in Tony’s case, locking him out of his Twitter account whenever he was on a 3+ day brain binge). It also meant setting Steve and Barnes up with someone who could fill in the blanks on history and social media. Steve was a quick learner, and had done much of the work before Darcy had been hired on, but Barnes a blank slate in a lot of (very sad) ways.

For a lot of reasons, Darcy loved her job. The people she worked with, while frustrating, were good people, and she considered most of them her friends. It was hectic, though. Corralling a group of people that were used to being independent, often working in the shadows and far from the glare of public opinion, was no easy job. There was a lot of arguing, and sometimes she felt they disagreed just for the sake of it. Or, when it came to Tony, pushed her buttons just to see how long it took to make her blow up.

She got it. They didn’t want to spend what little down time they had playing nice for the cameras. Even Steve, who wanted to do what he could to positively influence the younger generation, put up a fight after a while. Then again, those high school PSA’s were terrible and the forced smile he fed the camera after the first handful only became more and more obvious. But, this was her job, and there was a reason for it. 

If they wanted to keep doing what they were doing, then they had to work on their public image, but when there wasn’t an intergalactic war happening in the middle of downtown, people were quick to wonder if the Avengers were all that useful. And considering the history that some of them had racked up, between brainwashing and both on-the-book and off-the-book assassinations, having the public on their side helped to keep the government off their backs. Telling them that eventually got old, but it was the truth.

As much as Darcy wanted them to keep operating in the capacity they were, strings had to be pulled and palms needed to be greased. Which was where she came in. Only, she was tired. She was always tired these days. In a lot of ways, her job was thankless. She appreciated the paycheck; Pepper made sure she was paid handsomely for her work. But being on top of the team was a 24/7 job and not in a fun way. She was only getting five hours of sleep on a good night, she was always eating on the go—literally, she ate take-out while going over her schedule with one of her three assistants last night— and any chances of a social life were laughable. Her phone was constantly going off with the latest fire she had to put out and what little time she did have that wasn’t spent trying to sleep, she ended up in Jane’s lab, listening to her babble about her latest act of genius. Not that she hated that, she was proud of Jane and everything she’d accomplished. She was just getting… Well, lonely. The team were good people, but ninety perfect of her interactions with them ended with complaints and a compromise.

When she walked into her apartment, she had her shoes in one hand while the other rubbed at her shoulder, where a knot was quickly forming. She wanted to shower, but with her eyes quickly closing, she figured she might have to put it off until she woke up. Just as the door closed behind her, her phone started buzzing demandingly. Darcy wasn’t too proud to say that her eyes watered. She was so, so tired. Turning her phone over, she squinted at the screen, and found Pepper’s name staring back.

Sighing, she answered it. “Pep, hey. Any chance you’re calling to read me a bedtime story?”

“Not quite. Listen, I’m going to be in town tomorrow and I’d like to meet. My office? 8 am. Does that work?”

Darcy checked the time. That gave her six hours to sleep, shower, and get her ass across the facility. “I can do that.”

“Great. And sorry for calling so late, Darcy. Get some sleep.”

“On it. See you tomorrow!”

After hanging up, she dragged her feet on her way to her room. Falling face first on her mattress, she sighed. Eventually, she would have to crawl up her bed, plug in her phone, and, if she wanted a good sleep, change out of her clothes. But ‘eventually’ would be eat least five minutes of her arguing with herself over how much energy that would take.

Darcy drank her morning coffee in the shower. She also brushed her teeth and shaved her armpit at the same time; no lie, she was a little proud of that skill. By the time she was out of the shower and dressed, she was ready to face whatever monumental fuck up had her being called to Pepper’s office. As much as she could blame, and thank, Pepper for her job, they didn’t often get a chance to interact. Pepper was a busy woman and, obviously, so was Darcy. Which meant that there was either some grenade-sized scandal she needed to throw herself on or she’d fucked up somehow and Pepper was firing her.

In either case, Darcy planned to go in with her head held high and her best heels on display. She’d put her blood, sweat, and tears into this job. She was proud of the work she had done. And she was willing to fight for her position, or the team, whichever outcome was waiting for her.

Making her way into Pepper’s office, she found her standing at the window, her hair down and her clothes far more casual than Darcy was used to.

“Hey…” Darcy’s brow furrowed, hesitation coloring her voice and expression. “You wanted to see me?”

“I did. Yes.” Dropping a file on her desk, Pepper smiled and crossed the room toward her. “I’ve set you up for an appointment at The Surrey. The works. Anything you want or need, it’s on me. After that, I thought we could get lunch. I already okay’d it with Natasha, Maria, and Helen; they’re all on board. And Ingrid said that she would make sure Jane gets there, fully showered. I also set up an appointment with Joseph, he’s my personal stylist. You have an appointment at a salon for three o’clock and then he’ll be taking you to some of the best shops New York has to offer. I thought we could cap the day off with drinks and dinner. Tony’s renting out a restaurant for the night, which means the team can come and everyone can relax.” She calmly folded her hands together. “How does that sound?”

Darcy blinked at her. “I… I think I had a stroke in the elevator and I’m hallucinating this as my final moments.”

Pepper smothered her amusement. “I know we don’t get to see each other often, but I’ve noticed all the hard work you put in. And not just from your weekly emails, which are a lot more… colorful than most employees would send me. That’s not a bad thing, either. I hired you because you speak your mind. You’re smart and capable and you’ve managed to do something not a lot of people could. We work with a lot of wonderful people, but they also have huge personalities, which can make our jobs…difficult. To say the least.”

Clearing her throat, Darcy nodded. “I get that. And I appreciate what you’re saying. But… a spa day, shopping, all of it is a little… much, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think it is.” Pepper shook her head. “Darcy, you work your ass off, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we deserve a break sometimes. So, let me do this for you. Let me show you how much I appreciate all your hard work.”

Chewing her lip, Darcy nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Pepper grinned then. “There’s only one caveat.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Which is…?”

“You give up your phone until the end of the day. No work, no calls, no texts, nothing. If something happens and we absolutely need to reach you, we’ll find you. But today is supposed to be about resting.”

Darcy looked down at her phone, her brow knit. Very slowly, she reached out, and dropped it into Pepper’s hand. “Fine. But take care of her. My whole life is in that phone.”

“I will.”

The doors opened then and Pepper’s assistant stepped inside. “Happy is waiting outside.”

“Great.” Pepper motioned to Darcy. “Happy will stick with you for the day. He’ll take you everywhere you need to go.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks.”

Pepper nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Awkwardly, Darcy turned on her heel to leave, following the assistant out. But a tiny bloom of excitement formed in her stomach. As strange as it felt not to have her phone, it was a little freeing, too. The weight of her job and whatever impending problem it came with was no longer on her plate, at least for today. As she crossed the facility to the front, excitement slowly started to fill her. Stepping outside, she smiled at Happy, his sunglasses on and his hands stacked in front of him.

“Looks like I’m along for the ride, Lewis.” He moved to the back of the car to open her door. “Hope you don’t mind my shadow.”

“If you’re nice, I’ll set you up with a premium pedicure.”

He snorted. “Hot-rod red with gold trim?”

Climbing into the car, she settled back against the buttery leather seat, and winked at him. “Anything for you, Hap.”

Pampered was not a word Darcy considered part of her vocabulary. Pampering herself usually consisted of a cheap facial mask, painting her toenails, and a Netflix binge. None of which had been part of her day-to-day life since signing on with Pepper. There just wasn’t time for that. But after a day of luxury, she was starting to think that maybe pampering herself from time to time was necessary. Maybe she needed a fourth assistant and a regular day off so she could actually enjoy her downtime. It probably wouldn’t involve the best luxury spa in New York, but something a little closer to her budget wouldn’t be terrible.

After a morning of spa treatments, she’d met up with the ladies for lunch, and she… loved it. Most of her interactions with Natasha, Helen, and Maria involved work, but there was none of that. They’d put their phones away too and the meal was spent just talking. Getting to know each other, finding common ground, and occasionally making fun of the boys. Jane was occasionally distracted with writing her thoughts out on napkins here or there, but for the most part, she stayed focused on enjoying her lunch.

After eating, Darcy was ready for a nap, but then Joseph was there, ushering her out of the restaurant and back into the car. She was on time for her hair appointment and, while it took a while, when she walked out of the salon, she felt lighter. Apparently, she had more split ends than she thought, so she had a few inches taken off, added some color, and while it wasn’t a dramatic change, it left her feeling new.

Shopping was unexpectedly fun. With Darcy’s figure, she often struggled to find something that fit properly, but Joseph helped her find outfits that flattered her figure, and whatever she liked that wasn’t perfect, he sent to the tailors to have them done right. She even picked out a new dress and shoes for that evening’s dinner.

In the end, Darcy felt good. Happy helped her out of the car in front of the restaurant and Darcy fiddled with the end of her dress and stroked her fingers through her hair nervously. She felt like she’d just been on one of those cheesy makeover shows and was about to have the reveal in front of her closest friends and family and a live audience. But as Happy led her inside, she calmed down. Her stomach stopped twisting and turning and the familiarity of the faces surrounding the table were a comfort.

Today, she wouldn’t have to steal Tony’s phone or tell Sam to stop posting candid pictures of Barnes glaring at him with the tag lines like ‘freezer burn,’ ‘elsa,’ and ‘ice, ice, Bucky.’ She wouldn’t have to explain whatever slang word Steve had heard Tony purposely say in front of him in the hopes that he would Google it. And she wouldn’t have to convince Natasha to go on any early morning TV shows where she would no doubt terrify the hosts with her cryptic answers to every question. Today, she could just relax and talk to them and be a part of instead of feeling like a nagging parent with too many children that didn’t like the word ‘no.’

Sam noticed her first. “Hey…” He raised his glass and the others followed. “If it isn’t the reason we all got a night off. Nice work, Darce.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Hardly.” She made her way down the table and took a seat between Helen and Jane. “I’m surprised you all made it.”

“Pep made it mandatory.” Tony was buttering a bun from a nearby bread basket; he waved the knife around absently. “I was in the middle of a stunning piece of engineering brilliance, so if my genius flags later, it’s all on you, Shortstack.”

“It was only mandatory for you,” Pepper said. “Everyone else was happy to come.”

“I never turn down free food.” Clint winked. “It’s good to see you without the extra luggage under your eyes, Kid.”

“The wonders of make-up,” Darcy joked.

A waiter stopped next to her then to get her drink order and when Darcy turned back, she found her phone sitting on the table, next to her napkin. Picking it up, she hesitated. Rather than checking her messages and immediately immersing herself in what she’d missed during the day, Darcy pressed her thumb down on the power button and shut her phone down completely. It could wait for tomorrow.

Placing her phone in her purse, she relaxed and listened to the table as an argument broke out over which appetizers they wanted to get and what end of the table they should go to. It was a pointless discussion, considering they could order multiples, but sometimes she thought Tony and Steve just looked for a way to bicker.

“Well?” Jane shifted in her seat to face her. “How was it?”

Darcy smiled slowly. “Pretty amazing.”

“Good.” Jane bumped her shoulder. “You deserve it.”

Feeling as good as she did, surrounded by the people she worked with and for, by her closest and dearest friends, Darcy agreed. Tomorrow, her day would be just as busy as ever. But, she also knew how much it was appreciated. Plus, she had a feeling that Pepper would ‘okay’ a fourth assistant and, with a new motivation to make sure she was taking care of herself and not just flagging under the weight of her job and responsibilities, she felt better about life and what it was going to look like.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Fracture 6/10

Please note that this chapter references torture

If you like Juyeon, go love on @yoosungshoodie, since Juyeon is her OC and gave me her blessing to use her. The banner comes from @kiserusmoke!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue | AO3| Masterlist

There’s something else. I believe that whoever left the note is an employee of C&R.

“C&R?”

Suddenly, Seven’s mouth was dry and he mourned the soda Vanderwood scrubbed from the floor.

“I asked my security team for the full details of who came and went to the apartment today and the last people to leave were Nari, Juyeon and housekeeping, in that order.”

“I’ll look into it!” He cried out, hoping his enthusiasm masked his concern. “Don’t worry about---”

He hung up before Jumin could even respond and hopped out of his chair to gather together as many maps and files as he could carry.

“Hey, hey,” protested Vanderwood, “what are you-” He flinched as Seven threw car keys in his direction.

“Come on! We have to go.” “Go? Go where?”

Seven frowned over the top of the mountain of research in his arms.

“If there’s a mole in C&R, we need to warn V. There’s no telling exactly how much they might know or use to their advantage...it could jeopardize the entire investigation,” he said. “There’s a safe house not too far from the castle, so come on, we need to hurry!”

Vanderwood frowned, glancing from the messy floor to his flustered expression. Neither mentioned that the safehouse Seven referred to came into their possession in the earlier days of the Mint Eye investigation, nor that every single team to use it was MIA.

“Fine,” he said. “But just so you know, this means the photographer guy owes us double.”

Jihyun arrived at the castle boundary at midnight, which was strangely apt the more he thought about it. The outhouse he had previously used as a camp had changed a good deal in the last few months, which he supposed made sense. It belonged to the cult in the castle, after all, perhaps intended as a sentry post or something far more sinister. Either way, the last time he saw it it contained little more than a handful of water bottles, a worn bible and a pamphlet or two. He had been careful not to disturb the shelves much on his last visit, sniffing at the water in the bottles before taking a tentative sip. Whether or not it was clean was anyone’s guess, but at the very least it didn’t make him sick. Now that he was back, it had a few new boxes filled with musty uniforms and somebody’s shoes. In the far corner was a crate of wine bottles, though he recognised none of the labels.

Assuming the inner workings of the castle had not changed too much, the guard rotation changed at five o’clock every morning. He did not have the luxury of time, though, and after taking the tarpaulin from the back seat of his car and stretching it across until he was satisfied its dark shape was almost invisible in the forest, he shrugged on one of the newer looking sets of robes from one of the outhouse boxes.

He reached for his phone before leaving, sighing at its low battery and reaching to dial Nari’s number. He paused, though, taking in each of his missed calls from both Luciel and Jumin. Even considering the best case scenario: that Luciel was the only person looking for him, Nari’s phone was not at all compromised and she was being kept in a relatively safe environment, he did not know her well enough to presume her response to the revelation she was in danger. The worst case scenario, on the other hand, was one he did not want to entertain: that he was being traced by multiple hackers and had been for some time, Nari’s phone was compromised and had been bugged since her death.

He threw his phone into the river, watching it disappear into the darkness as he pulled up the hood of his robes.

A few hours from then everything would be changed forever, and though the optimism of it was clear even to him, he hoped it was for the better.

Ordinarily, Jumin took his good instincts for granted; he was confident making increasingly difficult business decisions and planning the future of C&R in an ever changing climate. Items and industries that dominated their accounts in previous years no longer held any value and keeping the company ahead of the game was as much about intuition as it was careful research.

When it came to Nari, though, he felt scrambled; every negative possibility equally as plausible as the next. Deep in his gut he knew there was something strange about Nari’s disappearance. Perhaps she was in danger, or had left him the note only as an afterthought.

It seemed almost distasteful to prefer the scenario where she was in danger, and yet he spent the night waiting for a callback from Luciel that ultimately never came.

After their argument, he had scooped up Nari’s engagement ring, meaning to give it back to her when they next spoke. In her absence, though, he placed it on his bedside table and hoped that when he woke up it would all be a bad dream.

Come the next morning, Luciel had not returned his call and any to Nari went straight to answer machine. As much as he wanted to dial her over and over again until she answered, the off chance that she genuinely meant to leave held him back.

He hoped he was wrong, considered that as he put on his tie the next morning. Before leaving for work, he put the engagement ring in his pocket, smoothing his fingers across the metal in the backseat of his car.

It took him half the journey to draft a message and even then it was only half complete:

We need to talk.

Nari woke early, the time on her phone screen one that would ordinarily leave her groaning and pulling the covers over her face. This time, though, she all but flew out of bed, changing into her clothes from the previous day and carefully folding the itchy nightdress. To say it was a relief to be out of it was an understatement; as she rinsed her face in the bathroom mirror, she saw that her neck and collarbones were red and blotchy from the irritation.

After dressing for the day, she dialed Driver Kim’s number and sighed when he did not respond. She doubted he was still asleep, for that particular time of day perfectly matched Jumin’s daily departure for the office. Juyeon did not answer either and Nari sank onto the bed, logging in and out of the messenger to no avail. She remembered the number Ray had written down for her as an afterthought and for a moment or two considered calling him; he had, after all, offered her an ear morning or night. It was very early in the morning, though, and surely he had a home to go to.

By something of a coincidence, he answered her question not long afterwards; barreling into her room with a tea trolley while she scribbled notes in her organiser. She had several appointments that afternoon that quite possibly needed rearranging, though the scent of Darjeeling made it more difficult than usual to pay much thought to problems beyond the castle walls.

“Good morning,” said Ray, “did you sleep well?”

He lifted the teapot into his hands as he said so, only turning to pour the tea when she nodded.

“I feel much better today,” she said, accepting the cup he offered. “I’ll be out of your hair in no time!”

It was good tea; its warmth spreading from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. At first she did not notice Ray’s expression of conflict.

“About that,” he said, “I received word from your driver this morning.”

“Is he alright?”

“He will be better soon,” he said, “don’t you worry!”

He seemed reluctant to tell her any more than that and, as a consequence, her imagination ran wild. Suddenly all she could think of was Driver Kim standing in Jumin’s office describing the events of the previous day; Driver Kim bed bound with the flu; Driver Kim receiving word of an emergency in C&R. Each possibility was worse than the next and Nari cupped her hands around her teacup, pushing each dark thought to the back of her mind.

Even so, she did not know what Ray meant by ‘better’. 

“Our lady meant for you to take breakfast in the garden today,” said Ray, turning to her with a grin. “I wasn’t sure of your preferences, so I filled in a few of the blanks myself.”

“Will your boss be coming to eat with us?”

She had seen so little of the castle that she found herself increasingly curious of it. Were all of the rooms like her own? What sort of person was in charge? All she knew of the owner came from the few references Ray had made. Those small details were not particularly helpful in forming either an opinion or mental image, however, and Nari feared she had invented so much of the owner and her personality that the reality would leave her disappointed.

Ray had not expected her to ask such a question; it was written across his face. Almost immediately she wished she had never asked, for the owner surely had a busy schedule too and her overnight stay had inevitably left a few noses out of joint.

“Ah,” she said, “it doesn’t matter. I’ll grab my coat.”

When it came to his son, Chief Han liked to think that he knew him the best. Business was in the boy’s DNA and even as a child he had understood the proper order of proceedings for any given eventuality. His engagement to a commoner had come as a shock to everyone, Chief Han most of all.

Sometimes he forgot the circumstances of Jumin’s birth; forgot Jieun. Before Jumin, she had been the person he thought he knew best of all, only to learn otherwise when it was far too late.

“What was it you wanted to speak to me about?” He asked, sitting back in his chair to properly observe the man opposite. Jumin had skipped most pleasantries when they arrived at the restaurant, not even bothering to read the menu. In the end, Chief Han was the one to order coffee and light refreshments, wondering why he had been summoned for a meeting on such late notice.

“I wanted to talk about Nari,” said Jumin, his own cup untouched.

Retrospectively, he should have seen it coming. He had learned the hard way how difficult weddings were to organise, especially when the bride did not come from a privileged background as he had. More than one of his brides to be had ended their relationship without ever making it down the aisle, in part because of the influx of offers from media outlets and other companies. With this in mind, he had taken Jumin’s engagement as an opportunity to pursue every business deal and proposal he had previously dismissed. If the unreasonably short deadline didn’t strain their relationship, the more ridiculous of his suggestions surely would.

So far, Nari had not only been flexible, but almost excessively so. Chief Han knew it was only a matter of time before his requests became intolerable and doubtlessly that was why his son had insisted on a meeting. Perhaps the girl had already left him and his strategy had finally blossomed into fruition.

“I see,” he said, helping himself to coffee. “How is my future daughter in law?”

“Don’t speak as if you don’t know,” said Jumin, “I expected this sort of behaviour from my mother, not you.”

That was a low blow and Chief Han grimaced into his coffee cup before setting it down.

“I did not expect for my son to resort to petty insults,” he said, “and yet here we are.”

“As far as I can see, you have two options,” said Jumin, shrugging off the barb. “You give my wedding a wide berth and we start again with a clean slate.”

“Or?”

“Or I leave my post at C&R.”

Only then did Chief Han realise exactly how far he had underestimated his son. It was true that business was in Jumin’s DNA, but in his arrogance he had forgotten that outmaneuvering people was too. He had no idea if Jumin was serious or calling his bluff and that uncertainty was dangerous, as he was almost certainly aware.

Suddenly Chief Han was thirty eight again, with clammy hands and a fluttering stomach, staring down the mother of his son. It had been a long time since anyone backed him into a corner in such a fashion and for Jumin to do so twice in only a matter of months left him oddly sentimental, a fact that must have transferred to his face.

“Is something funny?”

“No, no,” he said, “it’s just that the way you said that...it reminded me of someone else.”

Only after he arrived at the castle did Jihyun realise any of the flaws in his plan. He had not thought very far beyond his arrival, heart thumping with adrenaline at the thought of breaking Nari out of one cell or another.

A lot had changed since his last visit to the castle, though. The staff he once knew by identification number had since been promoted, whether to a different division or rank, and many of the chambers that had been barricaded off were now fully realised. Worse, from what few tidbits of information he could glean from other acolytes, the saviour had devoted most of her attentions to the control room and a guest on the third floor.

The gardens were new; all manner of brightly coloured flowers where before there had been plain earth. There were mazes and archways, fountains carved out of stone and pathways so well worn that it was difficult to believe how recent they actually were.

Halfway through, towards the castle, he rested a hand against a tree and sucked in one breath and then two. His chest was tight, his mind foggy, and worst of all he did not know where he planned to go next.

No one he had talked to knew much about the mysterious guest on the third floor, only that she was important to the cause and being treated as a VIP. The obvious answer was Nari and Jihyun did not know if he should be relieved or not. Not one of the answers he had received confirmed or denied her involvement in the organisation and, as foolhardy as it was, he refused to accept it. There had to be a better explanation than Nari betraying the RFA.

He had thought about confronting Rika; begging and bartering for Nari’s life. Luciel’s words, though, were clear in his mind, that his plan was reckless to the point of suicide. Jihyun supposed he agreed with him, but there again, none of his imagined attempts at saving Nari ended with him going home. At some point, he had made peace with the fact that the chances of him leaving alive were slim to none.

If he was completely honest, he was ready to die; ready to rest his body and his conscience.

As if in response, someone called out from the garden.

“This place,” they said. “It must take you such a long time to maintain it!”

It took everything he had not to run to her the moment he saw her; Nari, her hair loose about her shoulders, hugging herself as she walked the main path to the pavilion in the center. Two steps ahead of her was a man in magenta clothes, pointing out individual flower beds as he walked.

“These are Lily of the Valley,” he said, stopping to kneel and lift one by the root. “Here-“

He twisted the stalk in his fingers as she turned to see, forming a simple chain that he lowered onto her head. Nari had not been expecting it, that much was clear and she took two steps back at his touch.

“Perfect,” said the man in magenta, turning to the side and giving Jihyun a clear view of his face. He had bleached his hair and his eyes were a different shade, but it was unmistakably him: Saeran. 

“Oh,” said Nari, reaching up to the flowers in her hair, “I...thank you!”

Jihyun had no idea what Saeran was doing in the castle, nor what exactly they had planned for Nari. She did not appear to be in any immediate danger, though, which left one possibility.

A possibility that became far more apparent as someone behind him clapped a hand to his shoulder.

Breakfast that morning was no less extravagant than the one from the day before. Someone, possibly Ray, had assembled a feast under a large pavilion in the center of the garden, surrounded by sweet smelling rose bushes.

Nari wished she had several more heads so that she could better admire the flowers, and her heart skipped a beat when Ray placed a crown of lilies on her head. She was not sure how to thank him for the gesture and stammered a thank you before approaching the breakfast table.

“Is something the matter?” Asked Ray, noticing her hesitant steps.

“Oh it’s...it’s nothing,” she said, blushing a bright red at her own transparency. “I just thought Juyeon would be here.”

The prospect of her own increasingly complicated schedule and the absence of Driver Kim left her more desperate than ever to see Juyeon. Perhaps Juyeon had passed on a message to either Jumin or C&R already. At minimum she must have gotten in touch with everyone they had arranged to meet.

“Oh, don’t worry, your assistant will be here soon,” said Ray, reaching to pull out a chair for her, “she told me that she had business to attend to and will join us as soon as she’s done.”

That did sound like Juyeon, though Nari hesitated before accepting the seat he offered. The castle, the grounds, Ray...it was all like something from a fairy tale and at the back of her mind she had a strange feeling about it. Perhaps because it was so idyllic, she felt more inclined to seek out its darkest secrets.

“Are you alright, Miss Song?” Ray asked after she had been silent for quite some time.

“I,” she said, a sudden rush of guilt when she noticed the concern on his face. “It’s nothing. Thank you for this meal!”

She accepted the chair he offered and watched as he reached for a tea set, preparing her Darjeeling just as he had before.

“If there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable, just say the word.”

Nari sighed at that, wondering how she could explain to him-to anyone- her feelings from the past few days.

“Do you ever just wish that you could live your life again? The same years, but with different choices,” she said, absentmindedly running her fingers over the empty spot where her engagement ring used to be.

It was a question that had lingered at the back of her mind even before she entered Rika’s apartment. Before she even graduated high school. Just saying it out loud made it seem like nonsense, though, and she chuckled as Ray positioned a fresh cup of tea in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, hiding her face behind the cup, “that probably sounds ridiculous...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“Oh no!” Ray said, snatching up her hands in his. “I understand completely. Before I came here, I was…”

He shuddered at the thought, though tried -and failed- to pass it off as laughter.

“I was weak before,” he said. “Our Lady, she gave me purpose again, showed me the truth. I only wish I had known then what I know now, but spreading the word about everything we’ve accomplished here..well...it’s comforting. Surely there are others waiting to be saved as I was.”

Nari had yet to meet the manager of the castle grounds, but she thought she got a feel for her as she glanced around the garden. Only someone with a good deal of ambition and a kind heart would build such a unique environment and reach out to those in need.

“I think,” said Nari, squeezing Ray’s hand, “I’m going to like your boss.”

Believer B401 was far from pleased and Jihyun did not need to know the inner workings of the castle to guess why. He had frogmarched him out of the garden without so much as a word, pushing him through a side door and locking it behind them both. At first Jihyun thought he had been caught, only for Believer B401 to chastise him about his lack of discretion in regards to their guest.

“How do you mean to explain your robes,” he snapped. “Mister Ray gave us clear instructions!”

In a way, he was grateful for the interruption. Left alone to his devices he would almost certainly have acted without thinking.

“I’m sorry,” said Jihyun, “I’m on the intelligence team and only returned to the castle today.”

As excuses went, it seemed to do the job. Believer B401 let out a sound of annoyance and hit him in the shoulder.

“Don’t let it happen again,” he said. “If you jeopardize the operation, the Saviour might never forgive you.”

“What’s so special about the girl?” Jihyun asked, knowing exactly why Nari was important, but willing the acolyte to reveal more. Did they plan to recruit her? Was she a hostage, as her picture had implied? Just how did Rika plan to use her?

Unfortunately, he was out of luck in that regard. The acolyte did not know anything.

“All I know,” said Believer B401, “is that they put her under the care of Mister Ray and Miss Jenny.”

“Mister Ray?” He repeated, louder than he meant to.

“Ah, of course, you probably missed the ceremony. Mister Ray was the man in the garden.”

“Mister Ray,” said Jihyun, sounding out the name and wondering at its origins. There had to be a reason Saeran had chosen such a name…

And then there was the other question burning away at the back of his mind. If Saeran was Mister Ray, then who was Miss Jenny?

“Ahhhh, I always get the dirty jobs.”

Believer C607 leaned her head against the bars of the cell, taking in the shivering form of the prisoner.

“Hey,” she said, giving him a tentative nudge with her toes, “hey wake up.”

Despite her efforts, he lay still and she motioned for the nearest acolyte to open up the door. The cell smelled quite strongly of sweat, medications and other things she did not want to think about and she wrinkled up her nose in disgust as she stepped inside, taking extra care not to dirty her shoes.

“You had better start talking,” she said, kicking over the bucket of water they had positioned in the corner. The prisoner gasped as water spread across the floor of his cell, chancing a look at her as he repostioned his weight.

He froze on the spot as he took in her face, eyes suddenly desperate with recognition.

“J-Juyeon,” gasped Driver Kim as he reached to grab her by the waist, crumpling the magenta fabric of her blazer, “Juyeon, we need to get out of here, Miss Song-“

He groaned as she kicked him away, realisation setting in too late.

“First of all, don’t touch me with those filthy hands,” she said. “And secondly-“

She stepped back out of the cell and smiled at the second acolyte; a new girl whose hands shook as she held up a tray of instruments.

“If you want to leave here alive,” said C607, taking a set of pliers, “you will call me Miss Jenny.”

AUTHOR’S NOTES:-

Jumin’s Mum’s name is Ji Eun and she shows up in my other fic The Other Woman

My headcanons for her (or rather the head canons and backstory I put together for vabverse) are thus:

Like basically she is also from a chaebol family except all of her brothers went into the top positions and her parents wanted her to get married because it was like?? The 70s?? Maybe even the 60s man idk how old she is anyway, she studied corporate law and took on a job with chief han, since he thought she was hot and she used him to get a job

She planned to use her position at C&R to prove she was good enough for a job at her parent’s own company, all while taking C&R apart from the inside

She fell for chief han though and agreed to marry him, later stabbing her family in the back and ruining their company instead

And then she had jumin and chief han started seeing another woman while she was pregnant

She left when jumin was like 3/4. She said if was for work and a new opening but in truth she wanted him (Chief Han) to change and see sense

I bet she made it super hard on chief han’s other girlfriends

Like they’d sneak around her and lie and she’d be like... Cut the bullshit, i know youre screwing my husband

Blackmailing them through various means. Paying them off.

Jieun works in business law and im betting she created So Many Contracts with the Worst fine print

Chief Han’s lovers (the ones who have illegitimate children) receive this tiny ass stipend but come public about it and they’ll be sued and lose their home

Eunha got her bitchiness from Ji Eun

I love her. 

[childrenofankhseries]

Tragic Fools Extended Teaser. Titillating New Dark Fantasy Scifi 2021.

Chapter 1

Psychic Ex Issues

The bliss of sun-kissed skin awakened her. Twitching fingers in velvety sand as a heavenly breeze tickled her spine, Kayn peered up, grinning. Somebody gave her an immortal time out. Even with unlimited free passes to the in-between, a surprise trip was jarring until she recalled why she died. Who killed her this time? Cross-legged in pristine desert with silky granules trickling through fingers, her memory kicked in, clarifying why she was deceased. Lexy knocked on her door and took her out of the equation. Their Oracle must have caught Kevin telepathically asking her to warn him before Ankh stole the girl he had a thing for. Her attachment to him was always getting her in trouble. She shouldn’t be having conversations with an ex-boyfriend while in bed with her new one. Frost’s patience had to be wearing thin. They’d just been separated as punishment for killing Kevin at a banquet. She tossed her ex off a balcony for giving her a clover. It was still funny. Sensing a presence, Kayn got up, squinting in luminescence.

    Ankh’s Guardian Azariah sighed, “I’m beginning to think you enjoy being punished.”

    She didn’t know what to say, she kind of did.

    “Being part Guardian doesn’t mean you can bend rules to your will,” the angelic entity reprimanded.

    Brushing the sand off her short ivory in-between attire, Kayn responded, “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

    With divine angelic light attaching Clan Ankh’s Guardian to the sky, Azariah wandered off, explaining, “That’s just it, if he can tap into your mind, you have no say over what he knows.”

    Keeping pace, strolling the clean slate desert with warm silken sand underfoot, beneath an azure sky, Kayn thought of a monarch butterfly. An orange and black distraction flitted by as proof she wasn’t focusing on what the Guardian was saying.

    The angelic entity trailing radiant light, scolded, “I’m not talking to hear myself speak, child.”

    She wasn’t a child. Now, a variety of vibrant butterflies were fluttering around. She couldn’t shut her feral imagination down. Wincing, Kayn apologised, “I’m listening, I swear.”

    With a clap of her hands, distractions vanished. Smiling, Azariah carried on, “Here is the issue, Ankh needs a Venom before Immortal Testing. As you know, the Third -Tier sped up the timeline in response to the glitch your group used to get out. Currently, Triad is the only Clan with one. Your ex’s crush means nothing. Residual mortal sentiment is clouding your judgement.”

    It was, she couldn’t deny it.

💘

    Back in the land of the living, Ankh’s Oracle voluntarily stayed with Zach to make sure Kayn remained deceased until their compromised job was finished. Relaxing on the queen-sized bed by Kayn’s corpse, Jenna mindlessly flicked channels.  

    With Kayn’s head on his lap, Zach gently stroked her hair, asking, “Do we have to keep killing her? Can’t we lock her in a tomb?”

    “The bracelet to block Kevin’s connection isn’t working. I need to tweak it. He’s psychic, they’re linked. Taking her out when we’re dealing with Triad may be our only option.”

    “We all have ties to other Clans, I used to be Triad,” Zach implored, meeting Jenna’s eyes.

    “Aren’t you glad we stole you?” Jenna baited as Kayn’s chest rose and fell. “Heads up, Handler. She’s back.”

    “Can’t we just keep her occupied? She doesn’t know where they went,” Zach bartered.

    “Azariah needs time with her, a Guardian’s word is law, take her out,” Jenna instructed.

    Looping an arm around her neck, he released his grasp as she went limp, muttering, “You’re doing it next time.”

    “Suck it up Zach, you’re immortal.” Jenna teased with a smile.

💘    

    Everything was uncomfortably white as Kayn opened her eyes with a brief flash of waking up in the hospital after her Sweet Sleep. This time, it wasn’t Kevin by her side as she clued into where she was. She remembered this place. She’d been here before.

    Radiance encompassed Ankh’s Guardian Azariah as she helped Kayn up, praising, “Impressive regeneration time.”

    “I’ve been healing faster,” Kayn admitted, grimacing as she took in where she was. A blank white cell. The word nothing described this destination. She had concentration issues. Funny, well played Azariah, bravo. It felt like their Guardian was working up to an epic punishment reveal.

    Grinning, Azariah explained, “Time runs faster in a blank cell. Your soul can’t escape or think up distractions. We’ll stay here, so your Handler doesn’t have to keep killing you each time you rise.”  

    An immortal penalty box, so she couldn’t think up butterflies or heal herself to escape the boredom, clever. Kayn had to ask. “Am I going to be punished?”

    “Do you need to be punished?” Azariah probed with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

    Damn it, she did. There was a lingering silence as it sunk in. It felt like she could stop Kevin from having access to her mind if she wanted him gone. There it was…her truth. She wanted a way to keep their friendship alive, even if they were supposed to be enemies. Even if they always would be. He was her last attachment to a mortal simplicity that was no longer. She was going to lose the trust of her Clan. It felt like she was in the Testing again, being forced to see past mortal bonds engrained in her being.

    “Calm down, we don’t want to sever the connection. The Clans join forces on occasion. We need to control the flow of information. Having two Guardian offspring in the same Clan, Ankh may require assistance as you did when Abaddon tried to force you to send a group through the Hall of Souls. My brother jumped the gun when he took the cap off your abilities. You are a spiritual anomaly, a Conduit who is part Guardian. The Third-Tier will be looking for a way to take you out of the equation to hold off the Daughters of Seth Prophecy.”

    It would be helpful if someone explained what the Daughters of Seth Prophecy was.

    Grinning, Ankh’s Guardian, replied, “Prophecies have a loose narrative. New moves come into play. It couldn’t be worse timing to train a new group for Testing, with survivors in the middle of the evolution process. Believing they’ve set us up for failure by giving us an unbeatable scenario, reveals the Third-Tier’s weakness. They underestimate us. We thrive in impossible situations. Knowing a Venom can put trapped souls into hibernation in a sleep chamber to await freedom with the next continent in gives us a way. When all is lost, all one needs is a faint glimmer of hope and courage to fight. If we find a Venom for the next Testing group, we have an insurance clause. It’s that simple.”

    Sure, they’ll just find a rare immortal being in a North American population of 346.3 million. “Do Guardian magic and point one out, I’m on it,” Kayn saucily replied.

    “Being confined to this spiritual plain has limitations. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to have another look at the basis of your connection to the Triad,” Azariah asked in shimmering light with open arms.

    As Kayn stepped into the Guardian’s divine embrace, the predatory Conduit was subdued by tranquillity in the root of her being. Beautiful memories floated through her stream of consciousness with easy smiles and magical healing kisses on wounded knees. She drifted off to sleep each night snuggling stuffed animals, feeling safe. She recalled easy laughter in carefree moments, racing siblings in the upstairs hallway to see who’d be first to slide on their tummy down carpeted stairs. Family days on the beach building sandcastles by the sea, turning over rocks to capture fleeing crabs. Salty ocean air through an open car window on the drive home and grape soda stains on her sleeping brother’s face. Childhood sleepovers using hairbrushes as microphones, jumping on beds. Snuggling under blankets watching movies devouring bowls of pink elephant popcorn on the couch. Climbing to the highest branch of the apple tree where they’d perch to eat while viewing their entire world. In every scenario, Kevin was present or referenced to tug her heart back.  

    Maturing in visions, she reached the age of Correction. Blissfully unaware of her demise, she sprinted across a finish line as a track champion with Kevin overzealously cheering. Each moment, every action, forging an unbreakable bond, maturing into love, solidifying a link created by thousands of unforgettable moments.

    Caressing her hair, Azariah summoned her out of the visions, whispering, “We can leave the connection open. I’m secure, he won’t violate your trust.”

    Part of her wanted to remain in the beautiful lucid dream with only light in her soul, void of the darkness she often found herself lost in. “I wish I could go back,” Kayn confessed, in her arms, pining for the simple bliss of childhood.

    Knowing she wasn’t ready to let go, Azariah assured, “Those memories will always be wherever you are.”

    “I’m not good at being immortal,” Kayn mumbled.

    “Who is?” Azariah taunted, stepping away to meet her eyes, lovingly tucking curls behind her ear.

    “You kept Jenna for decades,” Kayn sparred, smiling.

    Intrigued by her choice, the Guardian disclosed, “Jenna sacrificed herself for someone else’s misdeeds.”

    She hadn’t heard this story.

    Her luminescent relation explained, “We accepted an ill-advised deal believing Haley’s Testing group was destined to survive. Alas, Oracle’s predictions rarely come with a time stamp. Haley did survive twenty years later when intuition led her to you. Fortunately, Jenna was powerful enough to maintain duties through psychic connections.”

    Their Clan was soap opera. Curious, Kayn enquired, “Whose punishment did Jenna take?”  

    Azariah teased, “You’ll figure it out.”

    Why aren’t we using Haley?  

    “She’s a talented intuitionist but decades lost in a Venom-induced dream state stunted Haley’s Enlightening process. She isn’t a viable Oracle yet,” the angelic being responded to her thought.

    Psychics advertise, they can’t be that difficult to find. Fascinated, Kayn suggested, “Can’t we just make an appointment with a psychic and snag one?”

    “There are varying degrees of Clairvoyant. Only top tier has a shot at surviving Testing. The new girl Emma is top tier, but if her group can’t connect, it won’t matter,” Azariah clarified with a genuine smile.

    Standing in a blank slate room having a casual chat, Kayn forgot she was speaking to a heavenly being. Her Aunt. That was still weird. If they stole the girl, Kevin would think she didn’t care. She wasn’t supposed to. She needed to get back to Frost so she could explain. Feeling a tickle, Kayn looked at her hand as it began disintegrating into sand. Well, this isn’t supposed to happen.

    Unamused by her niece’s ability to override commands, Azariah loudly clapped her hands, scowling. Kayn solidified, the miffed majestic being, reprimanded, “I haven’t granted you permission to leave.”

    “I can’t control this shit,” Kayn lipped like an insolent teen.

    “Are you insane? Have you forgotten who you’re with?” Azariah fired back.

    What was wrong with her? Kayn said, “I’m not doing it on purpose.”

    Furious, Azariah paced back and forth, towing a beam of sparkling light in the room of nothing, muttering, “Seth, you ignorant ass. Idiot.”

    Oh, shit. She broke a Guardian. Kayn nervously apologised, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

    “I guess there’s no point in staying here. We might as well enjoy the scenery,” the luminescent being, sighed, half-assed waving her hand.

    In a flash of blinding light, the pair was in a meadow of flowers, ankle-deep in lush, fragrant grass under a splotchy blue sky. It always looked like someone tossed buckets of paint up there. They wandered in silence. With each step into the bliss-inducing experience, fragrant flowers, gentle humming of bees and whispering butterfly’s wings, reminded her of how blessed she was to be granted access to this magical world.

    Out of nowhere, Azariah coyly asked, “What powers do you have?”

    Her horrible excuse for a parental figure cautioned her about disclosing certain things.

    Stopping, Azariah laughed, “You know I can hear your thoughts, just tell me what we’re up against so we can find a way to hide it.” Making herself comfortable in the grass, she prompted, “Sit, confess all, I vow to find a way to help you.”

    Guess there was no point in attempting to hide anything. Kayn sat by her, disclosing, “I’ve created orbs of light. Blue orbs blow things up, and white ones get me in trouble, you know about that incident.”

    “Yes, accidentally sending forty demons through the hall of souls doesn’t go unnoticed. Tri-Clan will be cleaning up that mess for years, and now, you have a target on your back. You are the magical ticket to mortality for every demon out there,” Azariah chuckled, picking grass and tossed it.

    Kevin always did that. Kayn’s heart clenched as her thoughts travelled back to her mortal life. Steering her mind away, she confessed, “Conduit, Siren and I may have stopped a bullet or two.”

    “Next time, you’re here we’ll talk about that. I’m sensing our time is up,” Azariah answered. Plucking a pink flower, the Guardian tucked it behind Kayn’s ear and whispered, “Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.”

    White light blinded her. As the glare ceased, Kayn saw Kevin’s Granny in youthful form, with freckles and flowing red hair. Winnie announced, “The job is done. Kayn is free to leave.”

    A part of her always wanted to run into Kevin’s grandmother’s arms. She’d loved Granny Winnie and missed her but knew they weren’t the same people. They weren’t even people at all, only pawns in an immortal game. It was time to go back and deal with the fallout from her secret conversation with Kevin. If the situation were reversed, and Frost was chatting with an ex next to her in bed, she’d be hurt. Her Mother’s words, sprang to mind, ‘Omitting part of the truth to protect someone’s feelings never works out how you think it will.’ She was right. She may never have the chance to say those words, but she could honour her memory by listening to her advice.

    Smiling at her inner dialogue, young Granny suggested, “Tell the truth, and let chips fall where they may. It’s a long afterlife, you have nothing but time.”

    With that telltale glint in her eyes, she’d always know it was her, no matter what age Winnie appeared. Unable to help it, Kayn asked, “Did Ankh take the girl?” Laughing, Azariah vanished.

    Used to her one-track mind, Winnie disclosed, “She was stolen by Trinity while Ankh and Triad were fighting. Kevin knows it was Trinity,” Winnie replied as the scenery flashed and they were strolling through the warm, inviting desert.

    This timeout was for nothing. Feeling strange, Kayn looked at her hand as she disintegrated into a cloud of golden dust and floated away on a gentle breeze.

    Opening her eyes, with her head on Zach’s lap in the land of the living. There was panic in his eyes. Here we go.

    “Trinity may already be here. Small talk later. Get your jacket, grab your bag, we need to run,” her Handler urged.

    “What’s going on?” Kayn said, scrambling into her boots. They sprinted down the hall, took the stairs and dashed out into the frigid Alaskan air. Oh, sweet lord, it was cold. The RV was gone. They got left behind.

    Going back inside, Zach gave her the rundown, “Trinity snuck in and stole the Venom while Ankh and Triad were fighting at the other job. Jenna had a vision and took off. Mel came in and gave me an Aries group card, saying, if the RV is gone, don’t panic, join the distractions at the pub.”

    Walking down the hall, Kayn vowed, “I wasn’t going to tell him anything.”

    “I know,” her Handler affirmed as they entered the pub and took off their jackets. “Game face, Brighton,” he teased, as they strolled up to the counter of local riffraff. Chuckling, Zach patted down her bedhead, whispering, “You’re looking recently resurrected feral this evening.”

    She’d been hoping it was Frost and Lily with Mel as distractions. She didn’t see anyone she recognised.

    Nudging her, Zach whispered, “Ten o’clock.”

    She glanced to her upper left and giggled. Ten o’clock. In an unexpected plot twist, their backup was Killian from the other continent with his massive muscular frame and wavy mane, sitting by a curvaceous black goddess so breathtaking, everyone was enamoured. With those two alluring unicorns, Mel seamlessly blended in with locals, downing shots like it was the end of the world.

    Leaning in, Zach whispered in her ear, “She is insanely hot, I’m going in.”

    That seductive being was way out of Zach’s league. He was in the minors, destined to strike out so fast, all you’d see is a blur of her blowing him off. Owing her Handler for blindly believing in her innocence, Kayn said, “Go Zach.” Snickering, as they picked up their drinks and strolled over.

    Killian raised his glass in greeting, “Guess we’re diversion buddies, our plan to be newbie protection backup was foiled by a five-minute bathroom break. Drink up, you two. Jenna says, acting like nobody is showing up until tomorrow and looking unprepared is how we’re going to buy the others enough time to get away.”

    “Emery,” the hot stranger introduced herself, extending her perfectly manicured hand to Zach.

    Awestruck, Zach shook her hand, flirting, “Your British accent is amazing.”

    Grinning, Amar’s continent’s vixen, cheekily reciprocated, “Your everything is amazing.”

    Wow. Zach didn’t usually have girls come on this strong.

    A tray of shots was placed on their table. Killian raised one, saluting, “Go hard or go home.”

    The table of immortals slammed three in a row, throwing caution to the wind. Emery seemed familiar. “Have we met?” Kayn enquired, shaking her hand.

    “I was blitzed at our last banquet, it’s possible. Either way, it’s nice to meet you coherent,” Emery toyed.

    The way Mel was slamming drinks back, their play was obvious. They were expecting Thorne. Mel was the bait.  

    “Slow down, love. I don’t want to hold your hair later while you’re parking the tiger,” Emery commented, coyly sipping wine, adjusting her seductively crossed legs.

    Parking the tiger?

    “Hurling, upchucking, technicolour yawn, ralph,” Killian deciphered British slang.

    “Praying to the porcelain god, barfing, boot and rally, blowing chunks, tossing your cookies,” Zach commentated.

    “Chilling my anxiety, it’ll sting less when he ignores me. The girl Thorne was seeing made it out of Testing with the other continent. He may be over me,” Mel disclosed, doing another shot.

    “You’re not that easy to get over, Mel,” Zach affirmed, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

    Where did she know Emery from? It was driving her crazy. All eyes darted to the door as Trinity wandered in.

    Zach whispered, “Heads up.”

    Raking a hand through his sexy mane, Killian whispered, “Immortal lie detector in the house, get ready to pull out the big guns, Mel.”

Chapter 2

Royal Pain in Thorne’s Ass

            Some bonds can’t be broken by time. Mel’s eyes locked with the leader of Trinity’s as he came in.

Ultimately, losing him had been a choice. She’d chosen Ankh over Trinity. It was her call.

Her time with Trinity before coming to Ankh was tumultuous. She’d been a royal pain in Thorne’s ass. Guilt-ridden, she spent nearly a year trying to kill herself as penance for her family’s demise. For an immortal with a healing ability, it was pointless. She lured him in with ridiculous drama. His days were devoted to convincing her she was worthy of being saved, and hers were spent proving why she wasn’t. With an intense connection teetering on the edge of more, everyone knew they cared for each other. On her final night with Trinity, she was about to leap to her temporary demise when their feelings came to fruition in an explosion of passion on a cliffside beneath the stars. The next day, she ended up in Ankh.    

    Since becoming Ankh, whenever she found herself in the leader of Trinity’s presence, either he was aggravated by the games she was playing or cautioning her to stay away during a fight so he wouldn’t be forced to harm her. Tonight, Mel was plotting to use his feelings to distract him so her Clan could get away with their unsealed under eighteen Ankh. When he walked past her to the bar, she couldn’t help but smile. He wasn’t stupid.

    Pulling a chair up to their table, her old friend Glory, declared, “I’ll bite. Mel, Zach and Kayn, we expected. Emery and Big Sexy are a surprise. Are you here protecting Amar’s kid?”

    Big Sexy, that was funny.

    “Go ahead, take a shot for having the balls to strut in here like you stand a chance,” Killian provoked, sliding the tray over.

    “They’re in the hotel, aren’t they?” Glory grilled, looking into Mel’s eyes.

    Smiling, Mel redirected their conversation, “It’s nice to see you too.” She didn’t have to turn around, she felt him there. She did another shot before saying his name, “Thorne.”

    “Melody,” Thorne responded, pulling up a chair. “Did we get here early?”

    “I’m not saying a word,” Mel laughed, downing another.

    “You will,” Thorne boldly decreed, holding her captive with piercing blue truth-seeking eyes.

    She wanted him. Maybe she always would. Pretending to be carefree when she was freaking out inside was proving to be difficult.

    “If you keep slamming shots, you’ll tell me everything,” Thorne teased, snatching a shot of whisky off their tray.

    Without his fib extracting eyes leaving hers, he licked a droplet off his bottom lip, and her mind went blank. What was she supposed to be doing? About to match his shot, Mel put it down. He was right. She needed to buy time, good thing she had a million things to confess. If it wasn’t what he was here for, why not? Shaking her head, Mel switched topics, “I’m glad the girl you were seeing made it out with the other continent.”

    “That was nothing,” Thorne confessed, sliding his hand over hers like they were alone in the room. “I was just trying to stop myself from doing something reckless at a banquet.”

    “Me?” Mel baited with a charming, dimpled grin.

    “You,” Thorne disclosed. “In retrospect, we should have spent the night together for closure.” Caressing her palm, he whispered, “I still miss you.” Getting back on task, Trinity’s leader compelled, “Is it just the five of you at the bar?”

    Checking for witnesses, Mel said, “Yes.” Bringing up the elephant in the room, she whispered, “You’re here to steal our unsealed Ankh.”

    Tucking her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ears, like she usually wore it, Thorne answered, “Obviously.”

    He thought her nervous tick was a style choice, cute. “You won’t,” Mel confidently stated, sliding him another whisky.

    “Trinity doesn’t participate in drunk fight club,” Thorne teased, downing the drink.

    Grinning, Mel provoked, “What about pillow fight club? You used to love pillow fight club.”

    He mic dropped reality, “There were no pillows on our cliff.”

    Our cliff. Tears filled her eyes as the passionate encounter on a cliff beneath the stars surfaced. She whispered, “I spent a year trying to kill myself, knowing it wouldn’t work because I’m immortal. How did you have the patience to deal with me? How are you so optimistic and understanding when our afterlives are this hard?”

    “Because there were people like you, along the way,” he admitted with a sheen of tears.

    She was going to have to confess everything else to stop herself from telling him what she wasn’t supposed to say. Pulling it together, Mel said, “I tuck my hair behind my ears when I’m nervous.”

    Playing with her hair, Thorne probed, “Do I still make you nervous?”

    Mel nodded, lost in his steel blue lie extracting eyes. No matter what she did, her heart wouldn’t let go of that beautiful night. They had to get over each other this wasn’t healthy.

    Tenderly kissing her hand, he admitted, “You make me nervous too. Whenever we run into each other, it aches like we lost each other yesterday. I try to stay away. I’ll be arguing with myself, then you smile with those dimples and I can’t.”

    “Thorne,” she whispered as he slid a hand onto her knee.

    Caressing it, he whispered, “Mel.”

    She wanted to tear his clothes off.

    Making it clear he caught her thought, Thorne leaned in and whispered, “Right here?”

    “Come to my room, so we can be alone. You foiled the job and stole the girl. You know where our backup is,” Mel persuaded. She needed to prove her heart wrong.

    Thorne suggested, “Let’s go to my room where we won’t be interrupted.”

    Worrying she was the one being played, she put it to rest knowing who he was. In this scenario, she was the bad guy. Leaving their coats on the rack, they slipped out, speed-walked down the hall, hitting nearly a jog as they scooted into the elevator, laughing. As the elevator door slid shut, their mouths met in passionate persuasion.

    Breathless as their lips parted, Thorne gazed into her eyes, confessing, “I do love you.”

    “I’ve never stopped. I wish…” Her declaration of love was interrupted as the elevator door slid open, revealing a Trinity poised with bow drawn. He’d set her up. An arrow whooshed into her heart. Stunned, Melody dropped. Thorne cradled her in his arms as the light flickered and went out.

Chapter 3

Big Sexy Snacks

The rest of Ankh’s distractions were three sheets to the wind dancing when Ankh symbols heated beneath their fingerless gloves, letting them know one of their own was dead. They sprinted out of the pub into the hall. The elevator opened as they approached. Mel’s body was on the floor with a gaping chest wound and blood pooling behind her.

    Killian commented, “Taking out our only Healer, smart. Emery, there’s a camera. If the footage is stored online, we’ll need to call the Aries group. Zach, go with her, watch her back.” They slipped out as the door closed.

    “An arrow to the heart?” Killian questioned as he broke the camera and pressed garage.

    Focused on willing energy into Mel, Kayn didn’t reply. Mel gasped as her eyes opened.

    “Impressive, you’re a Healer too,” Killian remarked, as he held out a hand to help her up.

    Dizzy, Kayn held his gaze and said, “Trust me,” as she siphoned enough energy to stay on her feet through their joined hands. Confused, the burly Adonis swayed, quickly regaining his bearings. While helping Mel up, Kayn looked at her snack and asked, “You good?”

    “All good, energy thief,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

    His energy made her feel like she could bench press a Buick. Kayn directed, “Mel, take off your shirt and sop up as much blood as you can. Killian, give Mel your shirt so she isn’t topless.” They dressed, and cleaned with the elevator open, thankful for the heated landing.

    Reading a text, Killian announced, “They have our bags and jackets from the bar. Trinity’s coats were still in the pub. I bet they’re searching the hotel. We’ll have to run out to the truck without jackets. Let’s go!”

    Darting out into frigid two am Alaskan air through icy crackling snow, they got into the truck. Emery casually drove away from the hotel with the biggest grin as they put coats on and noticed there were too many.

    Killian chuckled, “Did you take everyone’s jackets?”

    “I did,” Emery laughed. “Zach also may have flattened the tires of every vehicle in the parking lot.”

    Everyone was celebrating their escape. Kayn dug through her bag praying her cell was in there. The light was blinking. There was a message. Afraid to read it, she stared at the flashing light. Reality was a buzz kill. She’d been the cause of their separation again. He had to be getting sick and tired of her shit. Hell, she was getting tired of her shit. Nobody uttered a syllable until they hit smooth highway. They started talking, avoiding the topic of ex-boyfriend’s arrows. Strength shifted to fatigue as Kayn’s brain recalled bringing Mel back to life. She needed to close her eyes.

    Nudging her, Zach prompted, “Look at the message.”

    “So, I can see how ticked off he is? No thanks. I’ll wait for the live show,” Kayn said, yawning.

    Zach instantly yawned. Yawning loudly, Killian scolded, “Stop that crap. I don’t need to be yawning for hours.”

    He’d mentioned yawning. They all yawned again triggering each other in a ridiculous chain, except for Emery, which struck her as peculiar.

    Snatching Kayn’s phone, Mel read it, and gave it back, saying, “Yeah, he’s pissed. At least he didn’t seduce you into an elevator, tell you he loved you and get a Trinity to shoot an arrow into your heart when the door opened.”

    “Shit Mel, that’s brutal, I’m sorry, hun,” Zach consoled, caressing her shoulder.

    “Why are you sorry? You didn’t shoot an arrow into my heart?” Mel sparred, lightening the tension. Meeting Kayn’s eyes, she assured, “It’s not that bad. He just says you need to talk.”

    When though? How long would she have to wait? All Dragon excuses aside, if she wanted their relationship to last longer than five minutes, she had to start thinking about how her actions affected him. Ripping off the band-aid, Kayn texted Frost. Full disclosure, Kevin has a thing for the Venom girl everyone wants. He must have had a vision. He asked me not to take her. You were asleep. She gave it to Zach to read over. He looked at it and pressed send. “What in the hell, Zach? I just wanted you to read it.”

    He chuckled, “You’ll thank me later. It would be silly for him to be ticked off after reading that. You didn’t really do anything wrong, Brighton. You just omitted the truth so he wouldn’t be ticked you were in bed with him, mind chatting with your ex.”

    Everyone else started laughing as Killian glanced back, asking, “Is Brighton American slang?”

    “That’s her mortal last name, Kayn’s Canadian,” Zach explained, grinning.

    “I love that, Brighton,” Killian stated. “Were you really in bed with Frost mind chatting with an ex? I’d be choked.”

    With her eyes on the snowy road ahead, as tires crunched over gravel-strewn icy highway, Emery shared, “If memory serves a night with Frost is many hours of cardio. I think it’s badass that you bedded him and chatted with an ex. He’s been a player for eight hundred years. He deserves that Karma.”

    Great, she wasn’t going to be able to unhear that. Emery and Frost slept together.

    Catching her reaction, Emery backtracked, “Sorry about just blurting that out, it was a long time ago. No big deal.”

    If you’re going to get ticked off every time you bump into someone Frost slept with, you’re going to be pissed off a lot,” Killian chuckled, changing the music. Emery slapped his hand. Giggling, he playfully swatted back.

    Mel changed the subject, “Where are we going?”

    “We’re driving east through northern B.C into Alberta to meet up with Markus’ crew,” Killian explained. “Who can drive? We should break this up into four-hour shifts.”

    Zach and Melody volunteered, Kayn admitted, “I drove once in a parking lot.”

    “I’ll teach you how to drive,” Emery laughed as the tail end of the truck swerved on black ice and recovered.

    Unaffected by the drama, Killian suggested, “Pull over, I’m switching seats with Zach. Brighton stole my energy.”

    They stopped, leapt out into snow much deeper than it looked and comically switched up the seating arrangement. Kayn grinned as the mountainous Viking looking guy made himself comfortable, taking up a humorous amount of the backseat.

    “Wake me up when it’s my turn,” Killian mumbled as he conked out.

    She’d never seen anyone go to sleep like that. The musclebound Adonis had a breathy coo as a snore. It was kind of adorable. Sleep was doable. Closing her eyes, Kayn slipped into a dream, listening to Zach and Emery chatting like long lost friends.

    Waking up, stiff and sore, Kayn stretched as she sat up. They were parked at a rest stop with a convenience store. What time is it? It smelled like greasy burgers. There was a gross amount of garbage in the back. How long was she asleep? She gathered up the trash into a bag. They must have let her sleep. She couldn’t go inside and leave the engine running. Groggily, she searched for her cell. There was another message from Frost. Her growling tummy took precedence as she texted Zach. I can’t get out of the truck, please bring snacks and juice. Her phone vibrated with Zach’s response. Already on it. Grinning, she read Frost’s message. You can make it up to me today when you get here. Joy flooded her senses. Forgetting her relationship paranoid boyfriend filter, she wrote, love you. She pressed send. Oh, crap. Mortified, Kayn stared at her phone. Why did she do that? Her cell vibrated. She read his response. Ditto, Queen of mixed signals. Giggling, she relaxed. She hadn’t wrecked it yet. She wasn’t meaning to give him mixed signals. This wasn’t how she imagined love would be. Loving him felt like she was always about to lose something. Things were much simpler when she was blissfully ignorant relationship-wise. The love she had for Kevin was pristine childlike certainty. Loving Frost felt like jumping out of a plane with a chute that may not open. What she felt for him terrified her. He must feel the same way. She’d been all over the place mentally since surviving the Testing, rarely in control of which ability surfaced. Only the Siren ability came easily. She thought back to that night in Mexico when Frost tried explaining how hard it was going be with the complications of their abilities. He’d vowed to keep trying, so had she, but hadn’t understood what he meant. She did now. Trying, was all they could promise each other. Her road trip buddies were on their way back to the truck with bags of snacks, chatting. Kayn silenced her inner dialogue as Emery fumbled with the keypad.

    As everyone got in, Killian commented, “Sleeping Beauty has awakened and summoned the backseat cleaning elves. I’ll run this to the garbage. Sorry, I knew it was gross back here. You’ve been out cold for a day and a half.” He hopped out and sprinted to the trash can with the bag.

    A day and a half? She wasn’t a napper. That was strange.

    Killian got back in and shut the door as Mel passed her a takeout bag. Yes. She was starving. Kayn peeked in. “You got me a burrito, you’re amazing, thanks Mel.” As they pulled away, she quietly observed Zach, riding up front flirting with Emery. Mel was pretending she wasn’t devastated. Killian was trying to lift her spirits. Being murdered by your ex dampens one’s mood. She’d experienced that heartbreak. She barely knew Thorne, but the guy radiated goodness, what he’d done was hard to believe. It felt like there must be way more to the story. On the bright side, maybe Mel would finally be able to move on from the fantasy of what might have been. A flicker of memory brought her back to Kevin slitting her throat in Immortal Testing, solidifying the truth of where they stood with him in Triad and her, in Ankh. Yes, being murdered by someone you were devoted to made the situation crystal clear. She’d gone on an unhinged murder spree in the Testing. Melody wasn’t like her though. Her friend was rational, calm, and innately good to her core. Naughty, on occasion, but those lines between right and wrong always seemed finite for her. Unwrapping her burrito, Kayn dumped a disgusting amount of hot sauce on and devoured it.

    Watching with morbid fascination, Killian commented, “You do the hot sauce thing like Lexy. Amar does that too you know. I’ve always been curious as to why?”

    Shrugging, Kayn downed a jug of juice. She was still hungry. Ravenous, she dug through bags. Nothing was appealing. Killian smelled good though. She’d brought Mel back from the dead, fed off his energy and he’d stayed on his feet. It was rather impressive. She didn’t know him well enough to ask him for the kind of snack she suspected, she needed. Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Kayn, and I eat supernatural energy. Yours is rather addictive, I’d like more. Her inner dialogue was getting crazy. Oh, fantastic. More immortal brain growing pains, when was this bullshit going to stop? Her stomach went off like a whale’s mating call.

    Eyes wide, Killian chuckled, “You alright, kid?”

    Scowling, Kayn nodded, knowing it was a lie. The burly immortal carried on chatting with Mel about being Orin’s daughter. Broiling, she wiped the perspiration off her brow. The crackling tires were echoing. She should ask them to pull over, something was happening to her. She’d had this sense of ability related foreboding before, it rarely went well. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Be calm. Her peripheral vision flickered ominously. Her heart was thudding like she ran a marathon. She’d been asleep for a day and a half. She needed to feed her ability but didn’t want these new people to know she fed off immortal energy. It might make things awkward. Killian smelled amazing. He had sweet, tasty, potent pheromones. She needed to get out of here. She wiped her brow. Her throat was so dry, she could barely swallow. If she ate them all, they’d have a nice long nap. Usually, someone called her out on her feral inner commentary by now. Maybe they couldn’t hear it? That was unfortunate, survival of the fittest wise. What was that? It felt like spiders were running around under her jacket. She didn’t like it. Imaginary arachnids scurried down her arms into her palms, making every hair stand on end. Oh, no. There were dark veins on her hands. Something was bubbling up under her skin. If spiders exploded from the boils on her hands, she was going to lose her shit! Struggling to remain calm, she cautioned, “Guys, I’m having an issue.” Nervously, Kayn watched sparks glittering on her fingertips. Shit. This was new. She nervously warned, “Guys.” Flames lit from the boils.

    Nudging Mel, Killian declared, “Your friend is on fire.”

    Panicking, Mel barked, “Pull over! Quick!”

    Looking back, her Handler cursed, “Shit! Calm down, Brighton. Breathe. Deep breaths.”

    Emery looked in the rear-view, the vehicle swerved to the side of the road. “I’m trying! Out! Get Away!” Kayn freaked, with her hands going off like sparklers on the Fourth of July. Everyone scrambled out, bailing into a snowbank as flames shot out her hands, igniting the interior. Power was coursing through her, it felt amazing. This is so cool. “Holy crap, I’m fireproof!” Kayn giggled as her flesh melted, laughing.

    “Get out!” Zach shouted, running at her as everyone else frantically pitched snow at the fire.

    Blistered, charred, engulfed in flames, Kayn hopped out. Zach leapt on her, smothering the blaze in a snowdrift. She giggled beneath her Handler. Her back stung. Maybe she wasn’t fireproof? That was stupid.

    Looking at her ash-covered face, Zach chuckled, “If you keep laughing like this, they’ll think you’re crazy.”  

    Everyone was fighting to put out the fire. They should help.  

    Zach wiped her cheek, and beneath the layer of ash, her skin was pristine. Shaking his head as he got up, he reached out a hand and urged, “Come on, Brighton.” With a peculiar grin, Zach enquired, “Feeling chilly?”

    Not really. Kayn looked down at the dangling shards of burnt material. Shit, her clothes were not fireproof.

    Emery shouted, “Run!”

    Everyone sprang into action as fluorescent orange winter jackets and a nearly naked girl covered in ash sprinted away from the engulfed vehicle. They stopped to watch like it wasn’t a big deal as it exploded.

    Covering her with his jacket as they stood, watching it burn, Zach quietly teased, “Nobody can see anything, you’re covered in ashes.”

    Her head was tingling. Kayn winced as she touched it and felt patches of stubble. Crap. Seriously? She sighed, “Am I bald?”

    Grinning, her Handler confessed, “You’re a little patchy. I wouldn’t worry, it’s visibly growing.”

    Launching a snowball, Killian announced, “Everyone left their phones in the truck, didn’t they?”

    “Mine was in my pocket,” Kayn answered casually.

    “A heads up on the pyrokinesis would have been nice,” romance novel Viking looking Adonis, baited.

    “Yeah, it sure would have. Am I still burned or is it the temperature on my ass?” Kayn saucily countered, winking at Killian. Almost cool for a split second, she tripped over her own feet. Zach caught her before she faceplanted.

    “You’re hilarious,” Killian chuckled as they trudged away from the flame gutted truck through knee-high drifts, with nothing but snow-covered farmland for miles.

    Everyone’s auras were a trippy light show. Nobody was too concerned. If their symbols went off so did the rest of their Clan’s. They were coming. She was toasty warm. So much heat was radiating from her, snow was conveniently melting, making her hike much easier but her head was crazy itchy. Zach was trembling in his t-shirt. She unzipped his jacket and suggested trading it for his shirt.

    “I’m fine,” Zach replied, shivering.

    Feeling guilty, Kayn pressed, “My healing ability has me toasty warm. Take the jacket. I did this, not you.”

    Smiling, Zach said, “You only got to that point because I was so busy flirting, I didn’t notice you were in trouble.”

    “She’s hot, it’s understandable,” Kayn sparred, as they wandered down the deserted road. She took Zach’s hand. His fingers were so frozen. She stopped, urging, “Trade me for the jacket, you are being ridiculous.”

    “Fine,” Zach chuckled. “Now that I’ve felt how warm your hands are, I’ll take it.” The others stopped as Kayn and Zach swapped clothing.

    They’d been trekking through the snow for a good hour when Kayn realised she’d drained her energy reserves. If she fed on anyone, they’d go down. Having faith, she could keep going until help arrived, she was a second from passing out when their ride showed up.

    Markus rolled down the window and laughed as he saw Kayn staggering like she was drunk in a t-shirt with a melted trail of snow behind her. He commented, “Rough day?”  

    Oh, thank god. Kayn teetered over and was out cold before she landed in the snow.

💘    

    Picking her up like she was as light as a feather, Killian placed Kayn in the back as exhausted Ankh squeezed in. Nobody spoke until Ankh’s leader pointed out, “Wouldn’t it have made more sense to walk in the melted snow behind her?”

    “Behind the surprise Firestarter, you failed to mention?” Killian ribbed, laughing.

    “Yes, the unconscious one,” Markus replied with a grin.

    “She’s tuckered out,” Mel decreed, lovingly stroking her hair. “Her Healing ability shorted out. She’s been melting snow for hours.”

    Markus pressed, “I need the whole story, to figure out how to pre-empt this. What happened, Zach?”

    “I was up front, I didn’t notice she was in trouble,” Zach admitted. “Mel started yelling for us to pull over. I tried to get her to breathe but she was already shooting flames from her hands. We all jumped out, except for Brighton, who thought she was fireproof.”

    “Our symbols went off, Zach started screaming at her to get out. He ran back, leapt on her, and smothered the flames in the snow. She was burnt to a crisp, but healed remarkably fast, and didn’t seem to be feeling any pain,” Mel disclosed, making sure their leader knew Zach acted heroically.

    “Go back further, something happened after you three were left at the hotel,” Markus prompted with his eyes on the road ahead. “Our symbols went off, one of you went down.”

    Mel confessed, “I thought I was playing Thorne, but he was playing me. He convinced me to go to his room, and when the elevator opened, I took an arrow in the heart.”

    With soft eyes, Markus asked, “Are you alright?”

    “Yeah, I’m okay,” Mel replied, avoiding his gaze.

    Markus quizzed, “Whose energy did Kayn use to heal?”

    Raising his hand like a child in elementary school, Killian confessed, “I thought we were going to have to hide a body. When I looked down, Kayn was done healing Mel. I didn’t even know she was a Healer. When I took her hand to help her up, she apologised and siphoned my energy. She only took a hair of what Amar’s Healers usually take.”

    “So, she brought Melody back without an energy transfer and fed from Killian after. Where were you, Zach?” Markus questioned.

    “I went with Emery to disable the security. I wasn’t with her in the elevator,” Zach admitted.  

    “Zach, her abilities are unstable. What happened to Mel could have hit too close to home and triggered the Dragon. Moving Killian’s body would have been an ordeal. It’s your job to keep her on an even keel,” Markus reprimanded, scowling in the rear-view.

    “I ordered him to go with Emery as backup,” Killian explained.

    Markus clarified, “We have no idea what she’s capable of. You’ve heard about her Guardian paternity but she’s also a Conduit. We haven’t dealt with this ability before. She can siphon and replicate our powers. She’s figured out how to summon Healing and Siren abilities but hasn’t been taught how to shut them down. She must have fed off Grey to have pyrokinesis on the menu. Now, she may have your strength, Killian. It’s my fault for not disclosing everything about the situation.”

    “How’s Lexy doing with everything?” Emery enquired, looking out the window.

    Watching the road as they hit the outskirts of the city, their leader answered, “Lexy rarely has deep chats with me about feelings. Normally, I’d tell you to ask Grey, but do us all a favour, don’t open that can of worms.” Noticing Zach’s silence, Markus met his eyes in the rear-view, reassuring, “Don’t beat yourself up about it, kid. I get it, someone more experienced gave you orders, and you obeyed. I know you’ve had a lot on your plate. The Handler job is relatively new. Shit happens. I’m sure you’ve heard about Trinity sneaking in and stealing the girl we were after while we were fighting Triad. Thanks to you guys, we didn’t lose our new Ankh. They’re safe because you five distracted Trinity.”

    “Personal drama aside, Trinity was on the ball this week,” Mel admitted, stroking Kayn’s restored hair. She looked at Killian and questioned, “She brought me back and didn’t go overboard feeding from you?”

    “I was dizzy,” Killian admitted, watching Mel playing with her hair. “She doesn’t look dangerous now, she looks like a soot dusted angel. She’s going to be freezing when she wakes up in nothing but that t-shirt. She’s clearly chilly.”

    It took Mel a second to figure out, Killian was referring to her sleeping friend’s headlights on high beam. She swatted him as he giggled.

Chapter 4

Enlightening Brain Growth Spurts

Groggily listening to crackling tires on gravel winterized road, Kayn questioned, “How long have I been asleep?”

    “For future reference, you’re not fireproof,” Mel teased, with city traffic outside the window.

    Confused by the tall buildings, Kayn sat up, wrapping her arms around her chest. She was losing a concerning amount of time during these Enlightening brain growth spurts. Zach took off his jacket and gave it to her, grinning as they pulled into the parking lot of a fancy hotel. She wasn’t dressed for this. She wasn’t dressed at all. Awkward.

    Everyone got out. Markus looked back, asking, “Feeling better?”

    It came back to her in an embarrassing whoosh of ability induced crazy behaviour. “I’m good,” Kayn answered, doing up the jacket. Her bottom half felt breezy. Oh, yes. She lit the truck on fire and burned her clothes off. She must have summoned up Grey’s ability, Killian smelled like a snack. She should keep that to herself.

    “You can’t eat anyone, Brighton. This is Lampir territory. We’re here under the pretence of mending fences. After that unfortunate incident with part of Lucien’s crew in Mexico, we’ve been sent to check the northern Hives for suspicious activity,” Markus lectured as he got out into the snow.

    Shit. She wasn’t wearing boots.

    Crouching, Killian offered, “Your chariot, my lady?”

    “Thanks for not leaving me to run over there barefoot,” Kayn giggled, climbing on his back, feeling like a kid as he jogged to catch up with the others.  

    Squatting in the covered area, Killian announced, “Front door service, my lady.”

    Knowing the jacket covered her, she didn’t give her chilly toosh a second thought as they walked into the classy beige lobby, like worn-out tourists who’d been on the road for days. Handing out key cards, Markus directed, “Clean up, order room service and stay on your floor until morning.”

    Hearing Frost’s laughter amidst humming voices, Kayn noticed the trendy bar and tried to look.

    Picking her up to shift her position, Killian chuckled, “Nothing to see here, energy thief. You aren’t going into a bar full of Lampir. We don’t need an international incident.”

    She wasn’t a moron. She knew what he did for the Clan. Hearing Frost’s musical laughter again, she wanted to sneak a peek. Everyone was deliberately blocking her line of sight like kids. Kayn laughed, “Come on, I’m not going in there to attack whoever he’s flirting with.”

    Staring into the bar, Zach cautioned, “Don’t look.”

    Well, she had to now. Kayn giggled, “I just need to use the washroom.” Manoeuvring past, she stopped cold as she saw what they were trying to prevent her from seeing. Frost was whispering in a scantily clad blonde’s ear. He noticed her watching and didn’t miss a beat pretending she wasn’t there.    

    Putting his arm around her, Grey walked her out, saying, “He’s trying to get information. Don’t make a scene. Come on, let’s go find you something to wear.”

    Crap. She forgot she was half-naked wearing a fluorescent orange parka. Squirming out of Grey’s grasp, Kayn asserted, “I’m fine. I know what his job is, I’m not going to eat a bunch of Lampir.” Embarrassed, she strutted adorably past the group, barelegged in a parka covered in soot, beckoning, “Zach! Come!” She didn’t even know what floor they were on.

    She was standing by the elevator stubbornly waiting as Zach wandered up, teasing, “What floor are we on?”

    “I don’t know,” Kayn curtly replied in awkward silence. Trying to keep a straight face as it opened, she marched into the elevator.

    As the door slid shut, he leaned against the mirrored wall, stating, “That was ridiculous.”

    “I know,” she admitted, giggling.

    “Let’s go, half-naked weirdo,” Zach chuckled as they wandered out of the elevator to a room conveniently across the hall. Opening the door, he stepped aside, grinning.

    This week sucked. She was genuinely bad at her job. Going directly to the minibar to get herself a tiny bottle of vodka, Kayn tried opening it. Oh, come on. She was a frigging superhero. She passed it to Zach, he couldn’t open it either. That was strange. “I give up, I’ll go shower,” she mumbled, shutting herself in the bathroom. Sighing, Kayn leaned against the door, reflecting on her behaviour. It was silly to be upset. She’d used her mirrored ability many times for the sake of the Clan with no self-control at all. If she got pissy about this, he’d just come back at her with the half dozen times she’d done the same thing since coming out of the Testing. She was acting like a headcase. She stuck her head back out, apologising, “I’m sorry, Zach.”

    With a smile, her Handler prompted, “I know, have your shower, so I can have mine.”

    Undoing the ugly parka, she grinned at her reflection in the mirror. There were black veins on her chest. It looked like she needed an exorcism more than a snack. Before Immortal Testing, nobody thought she could hurt a fly, and now, everyone assumed she was an inconvenient emotion away from a murder spree. Looking at her Conduit anxiety response veiny situation, they may have a point. They were blocking her from seeing Frost because if she got pissed off, they were on the menu. It was hilarious. Her inner commentary was getting weird again. Be calm. Be Zen. Be chill. She got into the shower, but there was no rushing the amount of soot she had to wash off. Zach should have showered first. Shit, she didn’t have clothes. Wrapped in a towel, Kayn wandered out. Her Handler wasn’t there, just Arrianna.    

    Lugging her backpack, Arrianna explained, “Markus told me what happened. Come on, let’s go back in the washroom, I’m sure we can find you something of mine to wear.”

    How? She felt like a big oafish giant, who ate small children and lived at the top of a beanstalk next to her.

    Shutting the door, the petite blonde made it clear she’d heard her inner commentary, taunting, “Shut that negative self-talk down before I chop down your beanstalk., you are beautiful.” Inspecting her hungry Conduit ability situation, Arrianna explained, “Emotions are the trigger, that’s why seeing Frost working wasn’t a great idea when you were already having issues. Feed from me, Healers are the safest dish on the menu.” Arrianna held out her hand.

    She didn’t know Arrianna well, but she seemed to know what she was talking about. Taking her hand, the soothing warmth of her energy travelled up her arm into her chest. Fearing she’d take too much, Kayn quickly let go, saying, “Thank you.” Metaphorical demons exorcized, she began sorting through options in the bag, opting for yoga pants and a t-shirt. It was going to be a stretch. Prying wideset hips into tiny pants giggling, she squeezed into an obscenely tight top next. Raking fingers through her curly damp mane, Kayn announced, “I can’t believe I got into your pants.” Music was playing in the other room. Arrianna laughed as they walked out. The party started while they were in the bathroom. There was a mountain of snacks from the vending machine on the counter. Zach was dancing with Mel, drinking from the minibar. Shimmying over, her Handler gave her a mini vodka. “You did it! You opened it!” Kayn praised, giggling.

    Towing Arrianna to the fridge, Zach tempted, “Pick your poison.”

    Shaking her head, taking in the crammed minifridge and overflowing mountain of snacks on the counter, Arrianna toyed, “Which one of you stole liquor out of all of the fridges in the empty rooms and used telekinesis to steal everything from the vending machines?”

    “They were all in there?” Zach fibbed, grinning. “Are you telling Daddy or joining us?”

    Giggling, Arrianna swatted Zach, scolding, “You jerk that’s going to be stuck in my head.”

    Rattling boxes of junior mints like maracas, Mel chanted, “Join us, join us.”

    Cracking a whisky, Arrianna drank it, strode over to the adjoining door, and loudly pounded on it, yelling, “Join us!”

    Opening the door bare-chested with a shit-eating grin and crinkled happy eyes, Grey flirted, “Hello trouble.” Lured into their web of fun, he pissed himself laughing as he saw their mountain of stolen snacks. “This is a lecture waiting to happen.”

    “Look in the minifridge,” Arrianna dared, grinning.

    Following Grey into the room, Orin playfully shoved Arrianna, taunting, “I hope there’s a Snickers in that pile. I recall Markus saying something about behaving ourselves.”

    Digging in the snacks, Grey pestered, “No, it was, stay upstairs and don’t let Brighton eat anybody. I’ll save him one just in case.” Putting it in a drawer, he found another, wound up and called out, “Heads up, Brighton!”

    Turning as the Snickers sailed at her, Kayn caught it, and declared, “I’m eating you first.” Chasing her sister’s Handler out of the suite, Grey raced down the hall, cackling. Ducking behind a housekeeping trolly, he rifled toilet paper rolls at her as Kayn superhero blocked each one with a wave of her arm. The elevator opened. They turned to see who it was.

    Walking out, Killian saw the mess, warning, “Markus is going to lose his shit.”

    They chased Big Sexy rifling rolls as he ran for the room, laughing, “Stop! I surrender!”

    Gathering armloads of toilet paper ammo, they busted into the room, pitched rolls at everyone and left the mess to do shots.

    Looking out into the hall, Arrianna sighed, “Seriously?” She went to go pick them up.

    Flinging her over his shoulder, Killian strode across the room and tossed her on the bed. As Arrianna bounced, Big Sexy pointed, comically reprimanding, “These assholes feed on our Siren. Nobody is cleaning up shit.”

    Now, she knew where Frost was. She didn’t need that visual.

    “Here,” Zach said, passing her a whisky.

    She drank it, shaking her head. Three vodkas, a whisky, and a, your boyfriend is having sexy Lampir feeding time reveal. It must be Christmas.

    Putting an arm around her, Mel gave her a tiny bottle of tequila, whispering, “How are you doing?”

    Downing it, Kayn teased, “Drinking vodka, whisky and tequila in the same night is the trifecta of stupidity, but I’m having fun.” Thorne shot an arrow through Mel’s heart. She hadn’t even given her a chance to vent. Feeling horrible, she hugged Mel tightly, whispering, “Want me to kill Thorne?”

    “Yes, make it hurt,” Mel sniffled, giggling.

    Swaying to the music embracing, Mel’s chest shuddered. Kayn offered, “Let’s order pizza and get you a Snickers.”

    Joining in their group hug dance, the trio swayed as Zach whispered, “I ordered pizza half an hour ago.”

    Giggling, Mel whispered back, “You’re awesome, Zach.”

    “I have my moments,” Zach chuckled, wildly rocking the trio back and forth as a fast song came on.

    Tears ended, pizza came, and pointless talk of romantic entanglements ended as the endearing troop of joy junkies revelled in their unbreakable bond. When the rest of Ankh showed up, they were three sheets to the wind, leaping on the bed dancing and singing along to the music. The allure of mindless shenanigans was no match for the pull Kayn felt as Frost walked in. He’d changed his clothes. Far too tipsy to be coy, she ceased jumping. He grinned, sauntering over in a black fitted shirt and jeans. Heaven help her. The motion of everyone still leaping made her topple backwards. She fell between the bed and wall with a thud. Mortified, she decided to stay there.

    Mischievously peering over the side of the bed, Grey baited, “Markus is shutting this down, if you stay there for a minute, we’ll all be gone but I’d just own it.”

    Guru Grey was right. She got up and curtsied. The room of immortals cracked up.

    Everyone’s eyes turned to the door as Markus declared, “Who was the asshole that threw toilet paper everywhere?” They all raised their hands. Amused by their solidarity, he shut the party down, “My room is beneath this one, I need sleep.”

    Turning the tunes off, Zach pressed a finger against his lips, drunkenly motioning, “Shhh.”

    Giggles silenced as Emery rushed in, calling out, “Jenna!” Their eyes met in a movie worthy moment.

    “Emery?” Jenna gasped, “How are you here?”

    It always felt like a psychic shouldn’t be able to be surprised.

    Overcome by joy, they raced into each other’s arms and seductively kissed. Everyone’s jaws dropped. Fascinated as they left together, Orin just stood there.

    With a supportive pat, Grey put his arm around Orin, saying, ‘Digest it. Let’s go, buddy. Time to move on.”

    Shrugging as they went into the adjoining room, Orin asked, “Where’s Lexy?”

    “Don’t get him started,” Markus scolded, pitching a toilet paper roll at him.  

    Sauntering over to Markus, Arrianna gave him a Snickers, toying, “Don’t be grumpy.”

    Laughing, their leader hugged her, teasing, “It looks like you had fun.”

    “I did,” Arrianna stated, strutting away, summoning him to follow with a finger.

    As witnesses left, their eyes met. Placing a hand on the wall behind her, Frost whispered, “Hi.”

    “Hi,” Kayn whispered as every hair prickled in response to his pheromones.

    Pressing his body against hers, he whispered his breathy intentions, “I want to take you to bed and kiss every inch of you.”

    Caressing his dark hair, gazing into his seductive eyes, she leapt from a plane with no parachute, “Let’s go.”

    They straight face walked past the Clan lingering in the hall. He swiped his card. As the light turned green, Kayn flashed back to a night in Vegas, when her attempt to sneak up to his room was foiled by their Clan’s Oracle. He tugged her in and slammed the door as she laughed.

    Flirtatiously walking her backwards to the bed, Frost chuckled, “I wanted you so bad when I saw you standing there in nothing but that parka. After I’m done making you scream, you’ll have to tell me what happened.” She lifted her arms over her head as he tugged her shirt off and tossed it with a cheeky grin.

    Siren were creatures with volatile sensual energy hidden beneath the surface, ready to release incapacitating pheromones, able to change the rules of anyone’s game. Neither was capable of G-rated behaviour, once their fuses were lit. The self-destructive Dragon in her yearned for the reckless way he made her feel like air to breathe.

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[thewritenerd]

Victor And Adam: NaNoWriMo Day 21

Adam

When he first woke up Adam’s first thought was he didn’t want to go to school. The altercation with the old woman had left him very shaken and he couldn’t bare the thought of even risking another one. Lying there he wondered if he should fake sick. But he wasn’t sure how to do that. He’d never actually been sick so he had no idea what it felt like. Sure he’d seen actors pretending on tv but how accurate was that? When Igor had been sick he hadn’t even been allowed to see him. ‘Adam. If you want breakfast you’ll have to come down soon.’ He heard Igor call from the other side of the door. At first Adam thought of ignoring him and pretending to be asleep, but he didn’t want anyone coming in just yet. ‘I’m not hungry!’ he called back. ‘Well you need to eat something.’ Adam just stayed where he was staring at the wall. He listened as Igor made his way back down the stairs. He knew he’d be back soon telling him he had to get up to go to school. He wouldn’t let that drop. But still Adam found himself lying there. Sooner than he expected he heard footsteps coming back up the stairs. At first he thought it was Igor but the steps were to fast and heavy. ‘Adam?’ It was Victor’s voice this time. Unlike Igor he didn’t wait for a response and instead pushed the door open and stepped inside. ‘Adam are you okay?’ Adam just lay there not answering. How could he answer? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to lie or not. Or even what counted as a lie and what was technically the truth. Was he okay? He wasn’t sick but he felt awful. But if he was asked to put any specific words to it he had nothing. Truth was it was the thought of what may happen that made him feel that way. And how can you explain feeling bad about something that hasn’t happened? ‘Adam you need to get up. You can’t stay in here forever.’ ‘I’m not…’ 

‘You didn’t leave your room at all yesterday. Now come on you need to go to school.’ Adam reluctantly sat up but stayed sat in bed. Victor sighed and came a little closer. ‘How about this. I’ll ring the school and tell them you have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon. That way you only have to do a half day.’ Adam opened his mouth to speak but Victor held out his hand to stop him. ‘I’m only going to do that for today. Tomorrow I expect you to stay there for a full day.  Understand?’ Adam nodded. He still wasn’t happy to be going but he supposed a half day wouldn’t be too bad. Still he wondered… ‘Couldn’t I just go back to being home-schooled?’ he asked. Victor shook his head. ‘Igor and I both have to work.’ ‘Well maybe you could hire someone?’ Adam suggested not wanting to let the matter drop. Victor frowned at him. It wasn’t the frown he was used to getting. This was less a glower and more a look of concern. ‘You’re going to school and that’s final. If you still don’t want to go at the end of the school year then we’ll talk about it.’ Adam nodded realising that this was as good an offer as he was going to get. Victor patted his shoulder. ‘Good boy. Now come on you really do need to get dressed.’

***

‘Have you got everything?’ Igor asked as he pulled up outside the school gates. ‘Books, pencil case, pills, phone.’ Adam checked off the list. ‘Did you remember your water bottle?’ ‘Yeah that’s in there.’ ‘Good and what were the rules for your meds?’ ‘No more than two doses a day and wait six hours between each dose.’ Igor nodded. ‘Good. Now go on. I’ll pick you up at lunch.’ Adam stepped out of the car and waved goodbye. As soon as he stepped through the door he heard a familiar voice scream, ‘Heeeeyyyy Aaaaadaaaam!’ he looked round to see Chelsea enthusiastically throwing verself into the air arms waving all over the place. He made his way over to ver and Nate, who was trying to get as much distance between himself and Chelsea’s flailing arms. ‘Hey guy’s.’ Adam said a smile breaking out on his face. No matter how bad he’d felt this morning it was hard to feel completely miserable when Chelsea was around. ‘How have you been?’ Nate asked as he fiddled with his hearing aids. He must have turned them off when Chelsea started yelling Adam thought. He couldn’t exactly blame him. ‘Fine.’ Chelsea and Nate exchanged glances. ‘What?’ Adam asked looking from one to the other. ‘Uh it’s just. Well…’ Nate began. ‘Sascha saw your fight with that old lady outside the cinema.’ Chelsea finished for him. Nate nodded. ‘Well she didn’t say fight. But she did overhear you yelling.’ He corrected before leaning forward. ‘Did she really tell you to. You know? Kill yourself?’ he said the last part so quietly Adam almost didn’t catch it. ‘More or less.’ ‘Wow. Okay if you ever see her when we’re out and about point her out and I’ll hit her so hard her false teeth come out her saggy backside.’ ‘Chelsea!’ Nate cried. ‘What. Hey you know I’m not a violent person but I can’t just let her get away with that.’ Adam shook his head. ‘Please don’t punch anyone on my behalf.’ Chelsea nodded. ‘Okay but can I throw some eggs at her?’ Nate shook his head. ‘What are you going to carry eggs around until you see her in the street?’ ‘Why not? I could carry them around in a little basket. Maybe I could wear a red cloak too.’ Ver eyes were shining at the thought. ‘I doubt you have enough clothes in any colour other than pink to do that. At least without looking like a colour illiterate fashion disaster.’ Nate teased. Chelsea rolled ver eyes at him and gave him a shove. ‘Says the weirdo in the neckerchief and farmers shirt.’ Ve reached out and tugged on the open shirt Nate usually wore over his t shirt. ‘Farmers shirt. Does this look checked to you?’ Nate asked with clearly fake indignation. At this point Adam was laughing. ‘That’s better.’ Chelsea said. ‘Now come on or we’ll be late for class. And we have chemistry first period.’ The two boys exchanged looks with grimaces on their faces. ‘Wow first day back and it’s the dragon’s class. Bad luck mate.’ They made their way to the science rooms splitting off as Chelsea and Nate headed off to their class and Adam headed into his. Being the very top set Adam’s science classes were the second smallest in his year. The smallest being the bottom set, which he’d heard was compromised almost entirely of kids with learning disabilities, who only did one subject each so they were spread out pretty thin. Stepping into the room he saw most of his classmates were already there. The only missing were Sammy, a kid with cerebral palsy ho usually was the last to come in as it was easier to manoeuvre his wheelchair around when everyone was sat down, and a couple of kids whose names Adam couldn’t quite remember. He had just sat down when the teacher came in closely followed by Sammy and the TA who helped him. ‘Right I see most of you have bothered to show up.’ She said as she sat at her desk. ‘Now let’s see Imogen Ackerman.’ ‘Here miss.’ ‘Shaun Alger.’ ‘Here miss.’ She was just getting to the F’s when one of the two missing students came through the doors. ‘Ah miss Karim. You’re late.’ ‘So sorry miss.’ The girl replied as she tried to fix her hijab back in place. ‘You’re lucky the school rules officially state I can’t give you detention unless you come in after I’ve marked the register otherwise you would be in detention. Now sit down.’ Karim nodded and rushed to her seat. ‘Right. Arisha Fedorov.’ ‘Here miss.’ Ursula Fiddler.’ ‘Here miss.’ ‘Damian Forney.’ ‘Here miss.’ ‘Yvone Fowler.’ ‘He’s not in today miss.’ Shaun called. ‘He went to his grandma’s funeral over the weekend and his family won’t be back until this evening.’ ‘Right.’ ‘Adam Frankenstein.’ ‘Here miss.’ Adam said raising his hand as they were expected to do. He always felt a bit silly doing that. It wasn’t like he was hard to miss. ‘Ah yes. I heard you’d be coming back this week. Let’s hope you can catch up with what you’ve missed.’ Adam nodded. ‘I think I can.’ Miss Newell raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Okay then what’s the chemical formula for glucose? And what is the molar mass and the melting point.’ ‘Six parts carbon, twelve parts hydrogen, and six parts oxygen. The molar mass is 180.156 and the melting point is 146 degrees centigrade.’ He felt rather pleased to have remembered all that. Chemistry wasn’t his strongest subject but he was good with the numbers. ‘Yes well don’t look so smug. No one likes a know it all.’ Miss Newell said before turning back to the register. Adam let his head drop. ‘What a bitch.’ The kid next to him muttered. He looked over to Adam and gave him a reassuring smile which Adam returned. Adam had often ended up sitting next to him but had never really learnt his name. It turned out to be Oscar O’Conner. Oscar had a thick Irish accent and so much metal in his face, and on his teeth, it was a surprise he wasn’t asked to leave the room every time a magnet was used. Once Miss Newell finished the register she announced they’d be doing group projects. ‘Now you’ll remember how last week I asked you to get into groups of threes and fours. Adam you’ll be with Oscar and Maram. Right get in your groups.’ Adam watched as the girl in the hijab stood up and made her way over. ‘Hey.’ She said as she took a seat across the bench from them. ‘Hey.’ Adam said. ‘Hey beautiful.’ Oscar said blowing Maram a kiss. She pretended to catch it and put it on her lips. Adam stared not sure what to say. ‘We’re dating.’ Oscar explained. Adam nodded. ‘Well don’t let me interrupt.’ He joked. Maram laughed. ‘Come on we’d better get started before Miss Newell comes over.’ ‘So what are we doing?’ Adam asked. ‘We’ve got to make one of these things but the instructions are very vague.’ Oscar replied pointing to the worksheet he’d put on the bench. ‘I think we should do the bouncy balls. They sound fun.’ Maram said pointing to the list. ‘Well so does coloured fire. What do you think?’ he looked to Adam. ‘Yeah you can be our decider.’ ‘Definitely the balls. I’m not a huge fan of fire.’ Maram nodded. ‘That’s right. You won’t even use the Bunsen burners.’ They turned back to the worksheet. ‘Hmm. Okay we’ll need Borax, corn-starch, glue, water, food colouring…’ she read out the list. ‘Huh this sounds pretty easy.’

***

It was not easy. And they left an hour later with strict instructions to come back at break to clean up the mess. ‘Honestly what did she expect to happen.’ Oscar grumbled. ‘She probably didn’t expect you to get the wrong ingredients.’ Maram pointed out. ‘Well I think she should have awarded us. We might have invented a new kind of glue.’ Adam pointed joked. This got a laugh from the other two. ‘Yeah. My hands still hurt.’ Oscar said looking down at his palm that was still bright red from accidentally sticking himself to the table. At had taken a considerable amount of tugging from Adam and himself to get free. ‘And to think you two are top of the class.’ Maram sighed rolling her eyes. ‘Hey you’re just as much at fault as I am.’ Adam insisted. Maram laughed then stopped. ‘Your girlfriend’s over there’ She said pointing down the hall to the stairs. ‘Who?’ Adam looked round. ‘There. Standing two steps from the bottom. Look she’s heading up.’ Adam followed where she was pointing. ‘Shreya’s not my girlfriend.’ ‘Huh really. I thought two were together.’ Adam shook his head. ‘I’m not sure who told you that but it’s not true.’ ‘Really. I heard she let you borrow her book.’ Adam shrugged. ‘Well yeah but that doesn’t make us a couple. Unless that’s some kind of secret code I don’t know.’ Oscar shook his head. ‘No. But Shreya won’t let anyone touch her books. Let alone borrow them. She must really like you.’ ‘And I’m guessing by the colour of your cheeks you might like her back.’ Maram said cocking her head to one side. ‘I.’ Adam began. ‘I don’t…’ Frustrated he started kicking the ground.