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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

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The Dark Team (part 7)

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Warnings: mentions of suicide and murder, awfully cheesy petnames (yes I have to put a warning on that).

The streets were so cold you had to rub your hands to your neck as you walked. You had only one piece of information that could’ve been possibly linked to that murder, and therefore that stick.

Saying you weren’t worried about being very undercover was a lie; an almost seven feet tall “man” that dressed like a millionaire, and a man with a metal prosthesis and abnormal sized muscles were not exactly the definition of discrete, much less once they were being categorized as “wanted”.

“Are you sure it’s this way?” asked Loki impatiently.

“No”.

“And why…?”.

“Stop torturing me with questions you know the answer of. Shut it and let me do my thing”.

“What is exactly your thing?”.

“Trying to not stab you in the balls, if you keep being this annoying”.

“Alright, guys, keep it down”, mediated Bucky. His role in the team was starting to be more and more like a third wheel in a car that’s trying to break down purposely, and he hated every second of it. “Can’t wait for this mission to be over”.

“Talking about that, we still have a game of cards on hold”.

“We could never play that with Loki, he has mind powers or some shit like that. He’d cheat”.

“Me?” he held a hand to his chest dramatically, “I would never cheat on a cards game. That is dishonest and I would never do such mischievous thing”.

Your phone beeped and the address changed suddenly. You stopped dead on your tracks and both Loki and Bucky, who were walking in line behind you, stumped with each other and almost made you trip.

“Careful, guys”.

“Are you fucking…”.

“Leave it there, Barnes”.

“What happened?”.

“I don’t know, the address suddenly changed. This isn’t supposed to happen”, you hit a few times your phone after it froze, and realized it wouldn’t work anymore. “Well, we’re gonna have to do this the old fashioned way”.

“And how’s that?”.

“How am I supposed to know? You’re the one that's a thousand years old and he’s a hundred and six. I’m barely around the two decades”.

“I’m beginning to think maybe you’re not one for this job. Aren’t you the one in charge of the planning? How did you even get to this Stank Internship in the first place?”.

“Hey, don’t be mean to them. They’ll cry”.

You rolled your eyes and ignored them. Meanwhile, you looked around. You had to find this person. A person who saw the “death” of the man with the pendrive, but the only one who said nothing about it. Only thing you knew was that he was a worker in a coffee shop. Which coffee shop, you’d ask? Well, that’s a good question.

It had to be in the neighborhood, that was for sure. You looked around a bit more, trying to drink in all the information the streets and its habitants could give you.

“The man was killed being thrown off that building. They said it was suicide. It was not”, you finally said out loud, pointing at the direction of one of the tallest buildings of the city. You were too concentrated to even realize you had stopped talking again.

The man you were looking for had to have a full view of the window the guy was thrown off from, so it would be in… that direction. A reasonable distance to see both guys would be less than two blocks. And it happened in an unreasonable hour for a work break, so… it had to be… alright. I think I got it.

“What are we looking for, then?”.

“There has to be a coffee shop maximum two blocks away from one of these three streets, the counter of the bar has to be near the window (or showcase) and the showcase should be tall enough to see the high part of the building, so I’d say at least three meters tall. I assume the man we’re looking for is old and introverted, quiet, not very friendly. Not less than fifty years old”.

“Alright Sherlock”, said Bucky, patting your back. “I’ll write down not to mock your intellect. Now you don’t have to pretend like you just figure that out all by yourself”.

“Okay”, you said, not paying any attention to his words. You were still juicing all the information you could.

“I got lost in the description of the man, how did you reach that conclusion?”, asked Loki, who apparently was reading your mind, following your thought process.

“Well, he’s the only one who didn’t testify at all. The witnesses in this sort of cases go through a polygraph. If all he saw was a suicide, then he wouldn’t be lying, he’d go through the lie detector and go out as if anything happened. Since he saw more, and didn’t say anything, it’s probably because he wanted to protect himself against the law, or just too lazy to go into all the bureaucracy it’d imply”, you explained. Loki had a full blown smile across his face, not even hiding it. “What are you smiling at?”.

“Nothing”, he brushed it off and pretended to fix his tie.

“No, please, do give me your input”.

“I can’t read whether you’re being sarcastic or not”.

“Wanna find out, dear?”.

“Hey, the aggressive pet names are my thing. Get your own passive-aggressive mechanism”.

“Can you concen…? You know what? Whatever. I’m going there”, cut Bucky. He was so done.

You walked as fast as you could down the nearest street out of the three possible ones, and kept rubbing your (now almost numb) cold fingers.

“Buck, do you have a gun with you?”.

“I don’t think this is the best moment to kill yourself. Let us finish the mission first”.

“Though, honestly, I think it could speed things up a little”, added Loki.

“Wow, you guys are especially mean today. We might need something to threaten the guy with”.

“Just a pocket knife. Do you think it could help at all?”, he searched for more weapons in his pockets, but found none. Going undercover, you all had to leave your suits and armor in the hotel room. Loki cleared suggestively his throat and you gasped.

“Really? You can make it out of nowhere?”.

“No, but give me a weird shaped branch or anything similar and I can transform it. Transfigurations have been my specialty lately, though”.

“I love you wholeheartedly”.

“I’d literally marry you on the spot”.

“In fact, I think I might kiss you right now”.

“You guys have no idea how glad I am to know you’re lying”, said Loki, patting Bucky’s back.

To find the place was way easier than you had anticipated. Firstly, because it matched every single aspect you had predicted. Secondly, because it was the only coffee shop in the whole place.

The clicking bell filled the silent place as the scent of fresh coffee and baked goods infested your noses. There was only an old lady reading a paper and the fifty year old you were looking for. Bucky sat down on a table near the counter and you and Loki greeted the man.

“Hi, how are you?” you said with a fake warmth that would assure you his confidence. “We would like a black coffee…”, you looked at Loki, still acting, and he reached your thoughts telepathically to hear your “act, dude; you’re frowning”. He immediately softened up his expressions. “What would you like to drink, dear?”.

“Same as you, darling”, he smiled even faker than you. “So are we pretending to be a couple, now?”.

“Alright, two blacks, please”, you went back to the barista. “Yes, old people get all softies for young couples. Just follow me, we need him to like us”. “And a strawberry milkshake with extra cream and a cherry on top, for the gentleman on the table”.

“Going right up”, said the old man.

“Do you ever take vacations on mocking people?”.

“Never. It’s a true blessing”.

“So, what’s the plan?”.

“Same as it was before, except we can’t actually cause any harm while threatening him, if we do”.

“Why?”.

“Old lady at twelve o’clock?? Man, you really lack any empathy for innocent civilians, don’t you?”.

“Only with mortals. Don’t really care for them”.

“You’re probably lying. I know behind that shell there must be a big soft heart longing for...”.

“Alright, shut up, here comes our order”.

“Thank you, ah, wonderful”, you said, grabbing the cups. You pretended to just notice the news behind the counter, and Loki made the illusion of a highly realistic periodistic note on the suicide of the man with the stick. “Oh my… is that what I think it is?”.

The old man raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

“Uh, is just… don’t watch that, darling. It’ll make you feel sick”, said Loki tenderly, caressing your shoulder. “We sort of saw that… happening, you know?” he explained the old man.

“Oh, really?”.

“Yes, it was really close from here. Oh God, we saw it all happen, this poor man”.

“Very disturbing. Never seen such a gruesome situation in my short, very, very, very short life”, added Loki.

“Alright, we get it, humans live short lives”. “Believe me, you’re so lucky you didn’t have to see that”.

“Really?”, said again the barista, visibly nervous. “That terrible?”.

“Well, it’s a common tragedy, to be honest. But, you know, the cops and investigators were on our backs all night long”.

“Finally free now”, added Loki, still with his arm protectively wrapped around your shoulders. “You’re truly lucky to miss it”.

“Oh, yes. Sounds terrible. Glad didn’t see it, then”, he lied. And he was a bad liar. You didn’t even need Loki to tell you what you could so clearly see.

“And you know… I didn’t think it’d work, but we…” you chuckled innocently, as a kid telling their devilry to a friend, “we sort of lied to the lie detector, and it worked”.

“Love!”, gasped Loki, and lowered his voice “we shouldn’t be telling this to anyone. What if it spreads around?”.

“But, honey, have you seen this man? Why would you think he could wrong us?” you pointed at him and he, as you predicted, blushed with a smile.

“What did you lie about, if I may ask?”. He fell into the trap. You bent over the counter and lowered your voice.

“We saw it was not a suicide”.

Your expressions drew all seriousness and a terrifying look on your eyes gave the man the trust that you were being honest with him. He bent down on the counter too.

“What do you mean?”.

“We saw… oh God”, you started saying, but your eyes watered and Loki didn’t hesitate to hold your head to his chest, comforting you while you sobbed.

“I know, sweetheart, it’s terrible. I know”, he cooed. “We don’t know what to do with this piece of information. The man was thrown off violently, and the things they did to him before…” Loki hinted. The man swallowed hard and started sweating. Loki muttered nonsense, and you continued his empty explanation with sobs that sounded like words but nobody could actually figure out what you meant.

“That sounds awful, wow”, said the man, pretending he heard. Truth was, he didn’t need to insensitively ask for you to repeat yourself. He knew what had happened.

“We wonder what kind of deals could be behind all that, you know?”.

“Yes, very strange, to try to strip the man like that” started saying the old man, too affected by the situation to actually notice he was spilling the true tea. “It sounds like all a very weird business”.

“And that thing they pulled out of him!”.

“Ah… yes”.

You and Loki had started to lose your patience, and figured the man would be harder to interrogate like this than you’d expected. Loki squeezed your shoulder.

“My love, we should get going, don’t you think?”. And with get going he meant knocking the guy off and getting into his memories through Loki’s magic.

“No, my dearest, let’s stay here”, you insisted, without wanting to cause the fuss this was going to make. Ever since you came into the coffee shop, three other family groups had entered and were waiting for their order.

“But, sweet pie… I think we’re shocking the man enough”.

“Oh, please, I just want a normal day, honey bunny. Let’s stay and drink a cuppa here”.

Bucky chuckled at the pet name war you two were having, and the old man looked at you suspiciously. You sighed.

“Alright. Fuck it”.

“You’re cops, aren’t you?”, asked the old man. You fell off your character.

“No… but sorry anyways”, you said, kicking him on the face and smashing his head against the counter, leaving him unconscious.

“That was unnecessarily violent, I could’ve made him sleep with seiðr”, stated Loki, watching the man drip blood from his nose.

“Guys'', said Bucky, watching how all the clients were running away in fear, “I thought we said ‘keep it low, threaten discreetly’. What happened?”.

“For Fuck’s sake, just get into his head already, sweet muffin”.

“Hold his head, baby cakes”.

#loki #loki x reader #loki headcanon #loki laufeyson #loki x gender neutral reader #loki fanfic #loki fic #bucky barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #loki odinson #barnes #avengers #marvel #mcu loki #loki mcu

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

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Mistletoe

@elliestormfound hit me with this delightful ask “hi! I have a prompt for you: what if everyone knows that Geralt and Jaskier are dating except for Geralt and Jaskier because they are idiots? What if it is around christmas and all their friends hang mistletoe everywhere to get them to kiss finally?? sorry, I got too excited :D“ and it was just the thing my brain needed to decompress today apparently? So here’s 1.7k of my stress relief?

Warnings: k-kissing? christmas-ish? banter? swear words? a silent auction for an animal shelter? its in a barn? idk fam i think this one is pretty tame?

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“Geralt I can send Lambert in five minutes. You need to go home and shower.” Jaskier’s voice was exasperated over the truck speaker, having already told Geralt three times today that he couldn’t be late for his own fundraiser.

Geralt sighed and switched his blinker, heading away from the large animal pickup call and towards his house, “Have him take Eskel. I think we’ve been called there before.”

“Oh, so you were fine going alone even though you tell everyone else not to? Great. I swear to every god, Geralt. If someone shoots you over taking their animal away I will revive you only to kill you slowly with my bare hands.”

“Jask, I’m fine-”

“Yes. I know,” Jaskier lowered his voice and Geralt could picture him waving his hands and tilting his head this way and that like he always did when he mocked him, “I’m Geralt. I’m big and scary and love animals so much I’ll throw myself into dangerous situations without thought because I’m a selfish and impulsive cock.”

“Ok-AY. I see your point. I’m on my way home.”

“Good. Wear the green shirt so you don’t blend into the backdrop.”

Four hours and an obligatory ‘thank you for coming, please give us money, look at all these cute animals’ speech, Geralt was finally free to have a drink and relax. Well, mostly. He still had to be professional and courteous, but Jaskier did all the schmoozing on the part of the shelter. The majority of his time at these events was spent following Jaskier around like a lost puppy. Geralt did what he needed to, told stories when asked and supplied the facts when Jaskier went a little heavy on the emotional pleas, but he took a backseat for anything that included other people. They made a great team and Geralt tried not to think about it. No point in dwelling on what you can’t have, right?

Geralt did think about how many drink tickets Lambert had been handing out as he noticed more and more couples kissing. Come to think of it, he was quite sure Melissa and Adam had divorced last year…

He kept noticing it as Jaskier led him around the silent auction tables and nearly lost his ‘easy going host’ mask when someone shuffled up and planted a wet one on the person he was talking to.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and pointed up at his chin, making Geralt frown and rub at his own, thinking he’d missed a spot shaving. Jaskier bit his lip in a failed attempt to hide a smile and looked where he was pointing. Geralt followed, and to his horror, most of the ceiling in the barn had little bundles of mistletoe hanging.

There was one at every doorway, three by the food, a few over auction tables, one over every stall door, one on every support beam over the breezeway, and worst of all, one right over the table Geralt and the team were seated at.

“Ah! Geralt, I forgot to have you sign something before you left the office.” Jaskier clapped him on the shoulder and jarred him out of his thousand yard stare as he led him away, “Excuse us.”

“The fuck is with all the mistletoe?” Geralt practically sputtered as they crunched their way across the frozen driveway, picking up the pace to get into the heated office as quick as possible.

Jaskier shrugged, “Bert probably just wanted to up his chances of getting laid.”

Geralt set his drink down on the reception counter and plopped down in Jaskier’s chair, “Sounds like him. What did you have for me to sign?”

“Hm?” Jaskier leaned against the desk facing Geralt, eyeing his fingers drumming on the mouse pad Geralt had given him for the secret santa last year. Geralt did it every time he came into the office for more than five minutes. He’d steal Jask’s seat and tap at it, or lean over his shoulder as he was typing away and rap it with his knuckles when he left. It wasn’t extravagant by any means, it was just a picture of Geralt, Ciri, and Jaskier mimicking Roach ‘smiling’ in the background with her top lip folded back over her nostrils. But it was the closest Geralt ever came to telling Jaskier how he felt, settling instead for a shy ‘Ciri thought it was cute’ and an awkward hug.

“You said I needed to sign something?”

Jaskier blinked a few times and refocused on Geralt, “Oh, no. You just looked like you needed a minute.”

Geralt slumped down farther into the chair, “Thank you.”

Jaskier fiddled with the shiny buttons on his blazer, talking a little too fast to be entirely comfortable, “Oh this is completely self serving. You’re difficult to handle when you get ‘out-peopled’.”

“So you’re my handler now?” Geralt griped, a bit of sarcasm sneaking out with his words.

“Something like that,” Jaskier huffed, glancing up at Geralt through the hair falling in his eyes.

Geralt’s breath caught in his throat and he was suddenly more nervous than he’d been before his speech. He slapped his thighs and heaved a dramatic sigh before standing up, “We should probably get back.”

Jaskier looked up at him, a few inches lower than he usually stood while he sat against the desk. Geralt caught his eyes flickering up and his jaw clench as he tried to pretend he’d seen nothing. Following his gaze he froze.

A massive bunch of mistletoe was hung right above their heads, truly it was a miracle they’d missed it before.

Jaskier set his drink down next to him on the desk and whispered, “There’s no one else here…”

Geralt looked down at him, tilting his head and furrowing his brows as he tried to figure out what that had anything to do with….

His heartbeat picked up as he caught on to Jaskier’s subtle suggestion, “Totally alone,” he breathed.

His agreement hung in the air much like the mistletoe above their heads, taunting and almost permission giving, but not quite enough.

After making eye contact for far too long to be considered professional or friendly, Jaskier pushed off of the desk and for once, Geralt didn’t step back to give him space. They could rock forward onto their toes and their noses would touch and Geralt’s heart was absolutely racing, leaving his brain somewhere in the dust.

“You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” Jaskier’s breath tickled at Geralt’s throat, not close enough to be warm, but it gave him goose flesh all the same.

“Ask what?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Geralt let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, a hesitant but relieved smile spreading on his face as he nodded. Jaskier licked his lips and rested a hand on Geralt’s cheek and the other on his waist. Geralt thought he felt him shaking a bit but soon forgot all about it as he rested his own hands on Jaskier’s hips and the moment felt real. He swallowed his nerves down and leaned in just a fraction of an inch, letting Jaskier guide their lips together with the hand at his jaw. His eyes fluttered closed when he felt Jaskier’s hot breath on his lips and he was praying he wouldn’t faint before their lips even touched.

But when they finally did, it was heaven.

Just a gentle press of skin to skin at first, careful and sweet, and the butterflies wreaking havoc on Geralt’s stomach rose to his chest. Gods, it was unreal the way such a simple kiss could undo him like this but here he was, so overwhelmed that if he didn’t do something with his hands he might cry. He slid one hand to the small of Jaskier’s back and pulled him flush to his body, pressing forward with his lips and searching for more of whatever that drug making him feel so light and warm was. Jaskier mirrored him, wrapping his arm farther around his waist and moving his other hand to the nape of his neck to pull him closer still. Geralt let his tongue dart out across Jaskier’s lips and chuckled in surprise when Jaskier countered with enthusiasm, taking over immediately.

As he pulled away, Jaskier ran the tip of his tongue over the roof of Geralt’s mouth making him let out a shaky breath and shudder.

Geralt’s eyes snapped open and he pressed his tongue to the spot, wrinkling his nose before laughing softly, “That tickled.”

“Mhm,” Jaskier nodded and smiled, brushing his thumb over Geralt’s cheek as he searched his eyes.

“Can we do that again?” Geralt breathed, moving a hand from Jaskier’s hip to between his shoulder blades.

Whatever he found in his inspection, Jaskier seemed satisfied, if not elated, “Hell yes.”

Moments later, while their lips were most pleasantly locked together, Lambert and Yennefer burst through the door yelling.

“Fucking finally!” and “No! They didn’t say it! I didn’t lose! I don’t owe you shit!”

Jaskier jumped and made to step away, but Geralt kept him close, pulling him to his side but away from the door.

Yen grinned at them and held out a palm to Lambert, “Pay up, bitch. They’re positively head over heels.”

“What the hell guys?” Geralt snapped, more than a little on edge and embarrassed.

Lambert grumbled as he pulled his money clip out of his slacks, “This witch slipped you a love potion and swindled me out of a nice bottle of gin.”

Yennefer preened and plucked the money out of his hand, “No such thing as magic, dear,” she cooed and tucked the money in her bra before addressing Geralt and Jaskier, “It’s almost time to call the auction and people are starting to notice you’re gone.”

Jaskier smoothed Geralt’s hair back over his shoulder, “We can talk about it later, yeah?” His voice was soft and soothing, tempering Geralt’s usual reaction to Yen bossing him around to a mild eye roll.

He looked down at Jaskier and kissed his forehead before grabbing his hand and heading for the door, “I’d love to.”

They talked about it over pumpkin pie at Jaskier’s place after the event. Well… talked might not be the right word…

#i am so sleep deprived but my brain said no sleep till geraskier so #do i need all the beginning exposition? prolly not #does it bring me joy thinking about Jaskier being the aggressive mother hen secretary/switchboard operator for the bois? yes.#geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier christmas #geraskier first kiss #geraskier mistletoe #geraskier modern au #geralt runs an animal shelter #animal rescue geralt #its a vibe #thanks goob squad for the idea #it shall live rent free in my head forevermore #jaskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher fic #the witcher christmas

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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Little Witch | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies, I’m finally back with some Mikaleson Brothers content. I’ve had this idea for a while and rewrote it about a thousand times. I’m not sure if I love this but I needed to just finish it. I feel like it’s not that great but regardless I’m giving it to you. It’s super fluffy and a quick burn romance but, hey, who doesn’t like kissing me you just met you know? In all seriousness I hope you’re all doing well. I know life is really off right now and I hope this helps. All my love <3 until next time loves!

Description: Hogwarts and The Originals crossover, disbelief must be suspended for this one as we all know some of this doesn’t add up, soulmate AU

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Female!Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: there are no warnings

Word count: 6.7k

Tags: FLUFF

Tag List: @activist-af , @hellotvshowtrash , @firebirdsalvatore

(Photos not mine but mood board is :) )

“There you are, sweetheart,” her gentle voice breaks through you dreams, pulling you from the same scene you’ve grown used to seeing for the last couple weeks, “you’re going to miss dinner sleepyhead.”

You awake to a familiar picture: your books sprawled across a desk in the middle of the library and a fiery redhead with a soft smile holding a semi-crumpled cardigan towards you. Her eyes twinkle with laughter and familiarity. This isn’t the first time Arabella has found you asleep after you told her you were going to be studying. When you look down at your divination textbook you notice a small pink smudge from your cherry lip gloss. You wipe your fingers around your lips, collecting the rest of your smeared makeup.

You stifle a yawn, stretching your limbs out with a soft groan, “shoot, I fell asleep again. What time is it, Ari?”

“Quarter to six, hun,” she reaches out to brush some fallen hair out of your eyes, “we should really get a move on. Are you feeling okay?”

You nod, this time the yawn interrupting any intention to answer that you had. Your head buzzes lightly with the remnants of your dream. For weeks you’ve felt something on the horizon, something meant just for you. Three pairs of brown eyes and the warmest feeling in your chest. It’s the same feeling you’ve been waking up with every night, if not a touch stronger this evening. You don’t mind it though, it layers a warmth to your bones that this winter in the castle has stripped from you.

“I haven’t been sleeping too well lately is all,” you let Arabella help you slip your cardigan back on, straightening it and your tie, evening the yellow and gray stripes.

Her hands still against your shoulders, her concerned green eyes meeting your own half open ones, “still having those dreams, sunshine?”

You nod once more, sagging slightly from the weight of your tote when she loops it over your shoulder. Your skin tingles with slight electricity, lulling your already fuzzy brain into a deeper haze. You tug your sleeves over your hands, scrunching your fingers into a fist to try and regain some awareness.

“Hmm,” Arabella pushes the same strand of hair from your forehead again, removing her headband and putting it on you instead to keep your unruly strands in place, “remind me to make you some tea before bed. I have some herbs from the greenhouse that might help with them. Let’s go get some food into you first though, ok?

She links her arm through yours, pulling you alongside her towards the dining hall. The corridors are mostly empty, spare a few behind students. Much like yourselves, they hurry in the same direction, following the wafting smell of roasted chicken and pumpkin pie. You can’t help but shiver as you watch them rush, feeling like someone forgot to tell you something. As if everyone knows a secret that you very well must have snoozed through.

“Hey Ari,” you tug lightly on her sleeve to get her attention, “why is everyone in such a hurry? Did I miss something?”

She looks confused for a moment, her button nose scrunching tight before her mouth falls open, “oh yes, that’s right! I forgot to tell you! Some seventh year prefects overheard McGonagall talking about some exchange students from Ilvermorny. They’re supposed to be here for dinner!”

Your skin crackles with electricity, the air static with anticipation, “Ilvermorny? They’re from America?”

She nods her head cheerfully as the two of you approach the towering doors of the dining hall, “I know, it’s crazy right?”

You can hear the buzz of activity emitting from the hall before you cross the corridor, a dull roar that lights you with an even mixture of excitement and nervousness.

“They certainly think so,” you motion to the giggling fourth year girls who scurry past you, their chatter no doubt about the possibility of Hogwarts’ newest additions.

The current coursing through your body sings when Arabella pulls you through the doors. The dining hall is a flurry of activity, each house no doubt wondering if they’ve gained any new members tonight. The thought of some new Hufflepuffs warms your heart. You haven’t had any new faces around in ages it feels like. You let her lead you to a few seats left open near the front of the hall, next to the small stage.

You fall into your seat with a sigh, graciously accepting the plate of food Arabella hands you. How she made it so quick you aren't sure. Magic probably, that would make the most sense. When you glance over at her she has her wand out, levitating food onto her own plate. She always puts you ahead of herself, something you can't help but feel bad about sometimes. Regardless, it warms your heart immensely to be lucky enough to have such a caring best friend. You catch her eye and she passes you a loving smile and a wink before lowering her plate.

As you take the first bite of your pumpkin pie, ignoring the nudge you get for eating your dessert first, Headmistress McGonogal taps her wand to the podium in front of her.

“Students,” she clears her throat, waiting for the noise in the great hall to quiet, “as quite a few of you have already heard by now,” she searches you all with a glint in her eye, a small smile on her lips, “we have a few students joining us.”

The great hall buzzes at her admission, a current running through the entirety of the student body and, most of all, you. Your head feels like it’s spinning. Like you’ve just drunk a litre of fire whiskey and that if you stand up there’s a good chance you’ll fall right over. You drop your fork but the clatter it makes doesn’t register with you as much as it should. Arabella looks over at you, clearly worried, and raises her eyebrows, placing a warm hand on your back.

As you go to shrug your shoulders at her, the doors to the great hall open once more, “ah, and here they are! Please, everyone, show them your warmest welcome. They have come a long way, all the way from Ilvermorny in the United States.”

McGonogal continues to speak about Hogwarts and its connection to Ilvermorny but her speech is drowned out by cheering from all over the great hall. Well, you’re pretty sure it is. Your pulse is thundering so loudly in your ears that you can’t hear much of anything at all. Arabella stares at you still, growing more and more scared as the seconds pass. You think you say something, you open your mouth at least, but whatever words come out of your mouth don’t reach your ears. Arabella tightens her grip.

You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly, desperately willing your senses to go back to normal. It almost works too but then you breathe in and are hit with three scents so hard that you almost vomit. Not because they’re terrible, though, they’re anything but. No, you almost puke because of how fast you’re swamped in pine and buttery leather and the entire damn sea and how quickly it makes your heart rate spike. Are you having a heart attack? What is going on?

When you open your eyes the great hall is spinning and you know for a fact that you’re the only one experiencing this carousel ride. You have to get out of here. You push away from the table, standing on legs much too shaky for your own good. Arabella calls your name and it sounds like she’s behind a thick sheet of glass, one you can’t break no matter how hard you slam against it. The trees and leather and sea wraps around you again and your knees almost give out. There’s only one thing you can think to do and you don’t hesitate to do it.

You run like hell.

No. Scratch that. You run like hell is chasing you and, well, maybe it is. Maybe hell is a person, or people, perhaps even three people, and their footsteps pound down the corridor behind you so loud they echo through your chest. Your kilt whips around your legs, your hair flying behind you as you clear the corners as they come. You can feel them, whoever they are, gaining but slowly. You can make it, you know you can.

It’s midwinter, the thick of February, and yet you feel like you’re wading through lava. The halls should be ice right now but your blood is scorching you from the inside out. You pull the sweater from your chest as you run, not thinking twice before dropping it, never stopping. Your skin is charged with electricity and you want to scream and tear your heart out but you can’t, not now. You feel them like they’re right on your heels, the triplet of scents swirling furiously around you. You need to get outside. Now.

You make it to the courtyard, practically leaping off the cement steps, but a hand catches your arm midair and you stumble. You see the ground hurtling towards you in slow motion, the cobblestone path laughing at you. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the stones to bite into your side but they never do. Instead you’re wrapped in pine, two warm arms pulling you into a firm, hot chest.

You thought your skin was electrified before but that was nothing compared to what is now. Everywhere your body touches the person holding you prickles with static. You can almost hear your flesh crackle, each one of your veins roaring so loud that all you can hear is your blood rushing through you. It’s like a tsunami, waves of fire and power and fucking pine rolling over you unrelentlessly. You aren’t quite sure if you’re still breathing.

You feel another pair of hands on your back, rubbing up and down, spreading the fire like butter over your shoulder blades. Your body reacts on it’s own, your back arching into whoever it is behind you, your head falling onto a shoulder that smells like summer at the beach.

A part of you is screaming to run. To jab your elbow into their stomach and fight like hell. However, against all of your better judgement, the feeling is fading and fast. Hands skim down your arms lightly and you fight the delicious shiver that crawls up your spine. You don’t realize you’re still clinging to the first person until your fists squeeze around the cotton of their shirt. Their hands hand loosely off your hips and you don’t even want to acknowledge how much you like it.

Instead of fighting, you pry your eyes open, only to stare directly into strikingly familiar brown eyes. Your breath catches in your chest, your head still against his shoulder. He leans closer towards you, blonde hair falling down his face slightly. It looks entirely soft and you squeeze your hands tighter, resisting the urge to touch this stranger’s hair. His scent, that overbearing ocean, wraps around you again. He definitely doesn’t feel like a stranger.

“Hi love,” his voice is soft and lulls you deeper into his chest, his nose skimming the arch of your cheekbone, “you’re lucky we’re fast. That could have been quite the fall.”

He chuckles lightly and your cheeks flame, the noise like the wind chimes you hung in the greenhouse your fourth year. His laugh hits you in the gut and radiates to every inch of your skin, cooling the flames but also concentrating them lower. Too low. Your traitorous core sets on fire from the mixture of his musical laugh and mesmerizing eyes. Merlin, you don’t even know his name.

You look away from him but you can’t escape his eyes no matter how hard you try, looking directly into an identical pair of warm, brown eyes. The man in front of you, the one with his hands squeezing your hips, is also frustratingly familiar. He’s tall, his chest, the one underneath your fingertips, is broad and heaves up and down with every breath. Your body, being the wanton force of nature she is, longs to have you wrap your legs, and every other part of you, around the man in front of you. When the blonde behind you wraps his arms around your stomach, reminding you that he’s still there, you want to do the same to him as well.

Memories prickle the edges of your mind, the dreams you’ve been having for weeks now flashing behind your eyelids every time you blink. The warmth in your bones and the molten brown eyes. The same electricity that is burning through your chest and head and core, only now it’s a million times stronger. You shake your head. Not at the man in front of you but at yourself. No way are these the men from your dreams. That’s impossible, Right? And besides, there were three eyes in your dreams.

“There you guys are,” a voice, steadily approaching and as slow and tantalizing as honey, pulls your attention away from the men surrounding you, “I can’t believe you left me to explain what was happening to McGonagall.”

You meet the third pair of eyes with an audible gasp, his sharp leather scent curling around you despite the distance between the two of you. It sinks into your skin and puts you in motion, like the potion you needed to break whatever paralyzing spell you were under. You pull yourself so suddenly from the two men that they don’t have time to catch you, putting some much needed distance between all four of you. You force yourself to ignore the way your heart aches already. Your hand finds the wand in your kilt pocket. Stupid girl, longing for men you don’t even know.

You find your voice but only enough to mutter hastily, “Were you chasing me? Aren’t you supposed to be meeting, like, the whole school right now? What in Merlin’s name is going on?”

The newest male takes a step towards you, his eyes drawing up and down your body, reigniting the heat that has been slowly subsiding and lingering on your hand wrapped around your wand. He smirks at you, like he knows something that you don’t and, honestly, he probably does. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. His hair is dark brown and just as touchable as the previous two. You squeeze your fist tighter.

“One question at a time, darling,” he takes another step and you tense your shoulders instinctively even though your body is fighting the urge to run to him, “we’ll tell you everything. Can we go inside first, though? You look like you’re freezing. Is this yours?”

His question isn’t really a question, in his hands is your cardigan. He picked it up for you? You let your shoulders sag slightly and your grip loosen. He doesn’t know you, why did he bother picking it up?

“I-,” you release the wand slowly, “yeah that’s mine. Thank you.”

He’s right about the cold, now that you aren’t sandwiched between the other two men the chill nips at your fingers and legs. You go to take your sweater from him but he holds it open, beckoning you to turn around and let him put it on you for you. You sigh but oblige, tucking your arms into the soft wool with his help. His hands smooth down your arms once you’re settled, the familiar sparks following their path. You’re head squeezes with confusion and you want to scream if only to release the pressure.

You turn in his hands, meaning to break his hold but only ending up closer to his chest, “what is going on?”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. The ache in your heart eases drastically and you breathe in the leather once more. Merlin’s sake, this is exhausting. Even so, your limbs feel lighter in his arms. His eyes burn into yours and you don’t even try to look away, letting him extract whatever information he wants from you. You’re almost sure he can read every thought flashing through your eyes.

“Can’t you feel it?” His hand brushes your cheek, your skin buzzing on cue, “feel us? Like there’s a string pulling you to us, right? We feel warm, don’t we, and you want to be near us. You feel like you know us but you don’t know how or why.”

You find yourself nodding along to the words of a man whose name you don’t even know yet, your hands finding their way to his chest.

“Who are you,” you turn to meet the other two, your eyes wide, “all of you.”

The second man, the one who caught you, steps forward, holding out a hand for you to take. You aren’t sure why but you look back to the male in front of you, the one with his arms still tight around you, for approval. He nods, letting his arms fall almost reluctantly. When he releases you, you’re quickly pulled back into the pine scented chest. You don’t like how easily your body moulds to his, how his body seems to have some sort of claim on yours. How all of their bodies do.

“Elijah,” he rests his chin against your head, caging you against a chest that feels too much like home to make any sense, “I’m Elijah. You were just talking to Kol and Klaus-”

The hands, the same ones from before, once again rest on your back, drawing a traitorous sigh from your lips, “is right behind you, love, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart squeezes dangerously at his words, letting them fill you with the warmth of his promise. Even if your rationality doesn't accept it for the immediate truth it is, every other part of you does. You pull out of Elijah’s arms and turn to the ocean of a man behind you, throwing your arms around his neck without a second thought. He, too, feels like coming home. He takes no time squeezing you against him and burying his face in your neck. You feel hands behind you move your hair away from your neck and then a nose drawing up the exposed bumps of your spine.

“I don’t understand any of this,” you mumble into Klaus’ shoulder, “I don’t understand what any of this means.”

“Of course you do, darling. You can feel it in your bones,” Kol pushes his nose against your temple, his lips skimming your ear before tugging the lobe between his teeth.

Merlin. His teeth on your skin sends heat pooling in the pit of your belly. You tighten your arms around Klaus, biting back an embarrassing moan as he laughs again. This time the sound echos through your chest and wraps around your heart, grabbing on and refusing to let go. Kol’s lips skim down your jaw, nipping lightly at your throat in a way that is completely inappropriate for a man you just met but you don’t care right now.

Arms wrap around you from behind and you sink back into them, letting Elijah spin you and haul you into his chest. Your head is spinning from how quickly you’re being passed around by men you don’t know. Your heart stings slightly, the comfort you feel in the large male’s arms screaming at you. Perhaps you don’t know them but your body has been waiting centuries for them and is more than ready to reunite. You don’t hesitate to wrap your legs around him.

“Baby,” your heart stutters and his pupils expand like he can hear it, “do you mind if we go back to our dorm before anyone sees us?” Elijah glances over your head, searching around the courtyard before landing back on yours, “This is a lot to explain to one person, let alone the whole school.”

Your cheeks flame for the millionth time and your head whips around, searching the courtyard yourself for any prying eyes. You breathe a quick sigh of relief when you don’t see anyone. He’s right and, besides, you really are freezing now, your exposed legs two icicles.

You smile gently at him, savouring the way his eyes draw to your lips, “that’s probably a good idea.”

You go to unwrap your legs from his hips when he stops you, his hands tightening around your back and thighs, “may I?”

Your eyes widen, your hands stilling on his shoulders, “you want to carry me?”

He leans his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours gently, “very much so, baby.”

Your heart feels like it restarts, kicking your pulse into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself to speak, your entire body engulfed in pine and flames like a forest fire that you never knew could exist. You just nod, your arms snaking around his neck and pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel every breath he takes, closing your eyes when he begins walking.

The hallways, thankfully, feel empty and you don’t open your eyes, letting yourself sink into Elijah’s chest like you’ve been doing it your whole life and this isn’t your first experience being held by someone as large and strong as him. Your fingers, laying on the back of his neck, can’t resist shuffling through his hair. You’re already in his arms anyway, so what’s the harm. Just as you thought, his hair is soft to the touch and mesmerizing. You tangle your fingers through it, the last dregs of anxiety seeping from your bones.

When he starts down a staircase that you aren’t anticipating you tighten your fingers, squeezing your thighs to keep from falling out of his arms. In turn Elijah releases a breathy groan, one that hits you directly between your thighs. When you open your eyes you’re met with a coal black instead of the warm brown from minutes ago. Your breath catches in your throat but not from fear, albeit it should be. You know you should be painfully afraid of this man, whom you barely know, whose arms are wrapped around you so tight it almost hurts, but you aren’t. Not even a little bit.

Not even when he opens his mouth and you see two, very sharp looking fangs poking out of his gums, “Eli?”

You don’t know where the nickname comes from and, honestly, you don’t care. All you can think about is the irrational heat growing between your legs and his hands, once again squeezing your hips. Who is this man and why do you want him to press you against the stairs and do unspeakable things to you? You look over his shoulders at Kol and Klaus, whose eyes aren’t quite the same charcoal as Elijah’s but definitely not the sunshine whiskey that they were before. You have to bite your lip again to keep from squeezing your legs harder around Elijah.

“Come on,” Klaus steps ahead of you and Elijah, glancing back over his shoulder and smirking teasingly, “I can hear people leaving the Great Hall.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. How can he possibly hear the Great Hall from here? You glance back to Elijah, the sight of his fangs flashing through your mind. You shake your head, not wanting to think about any of this right now. You reach a hand up, cupping his jaw and running your thumb over his cheek like any of this at all is normal.

“Klaus is right, Eli. We need to figure this out before it gets around the school.” More than it already is, you add in your head.

The four of you somehow make it to their dorm and you breathe a sigh of relief when it’s segregated from the rest of the dorms. McGonagall probably gave them their own dorm to make them feel more comfortable. You’re just thankful to be away from the open space. You already know the entire school will be talking about what happened. Merlin why is it always you? You’re just a Hufflepuff, you didn’t sign up for any of this.

Their dorm is magnificent. The doorway leads into a moody common room, surrounded with cozy browns and greens. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there’s a window looking out into the lake. The waves lap against the glass and you giggle as a few fish swim by, stopping to look into the room and then continue on their way. The room smells like all three of them. Like every plain of earth and sea and air. There are four doors leading to what you can only assume are their bedrooms and bathroom. Compared to your dorm, which you love but also share with five other girls, this place is an oasis.

Elijah sets you on an incredibly soft, brown leather couch and you pull your legs up, tucking them underneath you. Kol settles next to you, his arm resting on the back of the couch, behind your head. Klaus sits on your other side, pulling your legs from under you and over his lap, his hands rubbing circles on your calves. With your back now to Kol, you can’t help but let your head fall to the side against his arm, soaking in the warmth of his skin. The dungeons are colder than you thought they would be. How do the Slytherins do it? He laughs quietly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you to lay against his chest.

Elijah settles on the coffee table in front of the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring at you with a look only slightly less hot than before. You hold a hand out for him, one he quickly takes, threading his fingers between yours, pulling your knuckles to his lips. Klaus’ hands are slowly working up your legs, now wrapped around your knees and steadily moving higher. You squeeze your eyes tight before opening them and staring at the ceiling, avoiding three pairs of brown eyes to the best of your ability.

You sigh gently, leaning into Kol’s hands as his fingers search through your hair, scratching at your scalp in a way that makes you almost keep your thoughts to yourself if only to ensure he doesn’t stop. But you need answers now.

“Okay, I’m serious this time,” your eyes train on a bookshelf, counting the books to keep yourself focussed, “who are you? You clearly aren’t like me, you aren’t witches, but you definitely aren’t regular people,” you suck in a breath, your eyes stalling on a thick book titled The History of Mythical Creatures, “so what, pray tell, are you?”

Your eyes stay focussed on the book but you don’t want to entertain the thoughts flowing through your mind. You had to read that volume in your seventh year myth class. Just because you’re a witch it doesn’t mean you’re used to the creatures you’re taught about. There’s a reason every student at Hogwarts takes eight years of defensive magic.

“You got us, little witch,” Klaus’ hands are above your knees now, kneading your exposed flesh with skilled fingers, “clever and beautiful. The perfect mate.”

Your eyes snap from the bookshelf, from the book that you know holds the answer to their identity, to the blonde lazily licking his own extended fangs. Mate. Did he just say mate? There’s no way he just said mate. Impossible. You’re a witch. As far as being mythical goes, you’re as close to normal as it gets. They, however, are something stronger. You can feel the power rolling off of them.

“I,” your mouth falls open, your mind spinning, “what?”

Kol laughs from behind you, his chest rumbling under your back. He pulls your hair to the side again before capturing your ear with his mouth again.

“You heard him, darling,” he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, pulling a tiny gasp from you as, “your ours. And, I hate to break it to you, but we’re pretty hard to get rid of. ”

Klaus’ hands squeeze right below the hem of your kilt, lighting your skin with the delicious sparks. If his hands weren’t there you would be squeezing your legs together for sure.

“He’s right, love, I’ve tried. Many times,” Klaus smirks at Kol in only the way an older brother could and it hits you.

“Oh, Merlin,” you close your eyes again, heat flaring across your face, “you’re brothers. All three of you are brothers. What is going on, Helga help me.”

All three of them laugh and Elijah kisses your knuckles again, “yes baby, we are in fact brothers. It’s been a long millennium.”

“Millenium?” You feel faint.

He laughs again and you wish you could pluck the sound out of the air and hold onto it for the rest of your life. When you look at him all you can do is smile and run a hand down your face. A thousand years, huh? Klaus’ hands trace lazy circles on your inner thighs as Kol’s lips find your neck, his teeth scraping your skin in a way that has you sinking even further into his buttery leather arms. When he bites down a touch harder you can’t help but wonder what kind of experience a thousand years would allow a person.

A thousand years. Your chest stings unexpectedly as another thought hits you. It must be the day for that.

“I don’t think I’ll live a millenium. I probably have a few hundred years but a thousand? Not even close,” your heart stutters, a cold chill running over you, “You’ll all outlive me.”

Three growls sound in the room and you almost jump out of your skin in shock before you realize that they’re coming from them. Kol tightens his arms around you protectively as Klaus’ hands find your hips under your kilt, squeezing you like you just suggested you’re going to die tomorrow. Elijah drops from the coffee table, sinking to his knees in front of you and throwing an arm over your stomach.

“You’ll be living a lot longer than that, baby, I assure you of that.”

You reach a hand towards Elijah, curling your fingers through his hair on instinct, “I may be magic, Eli, but I’m not immortal. It’s not the same for me.”

He leans into your palm, rubbing his cheek against your fingertips, “that’s an easy fix.”

Your head spins, the pieces connecting in your head as you stare into his serious eyes. For the first time all night a tinge of fear zaps your chest. Immortality is no joke.

“You want me to become like you?” You look away from him and Klaus, who nods in agreement with his brother, “You want me to become a-”

Kol nips the back of your neck and you try to ignore the pleasure rolling through you in the midst of the most serious conversation of your life, “a vampire, darling. You can say it. We’re vampires.”

The word echoes through you, bouncing around your head and lungs, fluttering in your stomach before finally settling directly between your thighs. Merlin. You sit upright quickly, pulling your legs from Klaus’ dangerously skilled fingers, and all but stumble over Elijah and the coffee table in order to put some distance between you and the brothers. You scrub your hands over your face, your entire body feeling more alive than it ever has in your short lifetime. But you know it can’t last.

You keep your hands over your eyes, letting the open air sooth you for a moment before speaking, “I’m just a witch. Just one witch and not even a good one at that,” you peel your hands from your eyes, opting instead to tug your hair, “I’m more of a farmer, honestly. I spend all my time in the library or the greenhouses. I’m not mate material. I’m definitely not,” you swallow thickly, your throat closing all of a sudden and without your permission, “vampire material. You have the wrong girl.”

As soon as you say the words they feel wrong but they’re already out of your mouth and you have to live with them now. For a long moment nobody says anything. It’s just you standing in front of them, your eyes refusing to open and your hands ripping at your hair. Your legs tremble beneath you and it feels like your heart is trying to crawl out of your throat. If it can’t be with them then it would rather stop beating altogether. The cold air of their dungeon dorm nips at your legs and fingertips painfully and you revel in the feeling of something other than the torrent of emotions that you’ve been battling for the better half of an hour.

You feel a rush of air in front of you, forcing your eyes open just in time to see Kol standing in front of you. You open your mouth, ready to let even more words that you know you’ll regret out, but you find that you can’t speak. Not because you don’t want to, though, but because Kol’s mouth is now crashing into yours and, gods, does it ever feel like you’re breathing for the first time. Kol’s mouth is oxygen. Like before this moment you were dead and his lips are life. You grip his shoulders, your fingers digging into the taught muscle to keep yourself upright against this force of nature.

His hands wrap in your hair and he tugs gently, swallowing each moan like it’s candy and he can’t get enough. Your hands crawl from his shoulders to his hair, doing the same to him. He groans, a sound completely different from Elijah but so similar at the same time. When his tongue finds its way between your lips you see stars. Your blood sings like you’ve walked through a magnetic field, your veins buzzing with a foreign kind of power. This time you don’t feel like you’re home, you know you are.

Kol pulls back a fraction, his lips brushing yours while he speaks, “you feel that?” His hands move to your cheeks, your skin like a current where he touches you, “I know you do, I know you feel me in your veins, darling. I don’t have the wrong person. Fate doesn’t make mistakes. You’re perfect for me.”

Your eyes widen and you push back the swell of emotion rising in your chest.

A pair of arms wraps around you from behind, a riptide pulling you into an ocean of a man, “me as well, my little witch. Besides, I quite like farmers. Tell me, can you grow strawberries?”

You try to stop yourself from sagging against his chest but you can’t and you don’t actually want to. His head falls on yours as if he’s been doing it for years.

“Pumpkins,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say, knowing full well you aren’t ready to answer the other questions, “I grow the best pumpkins in the school.”

Klaus’ chest rumbles like a cat purring against your back, “pumpkin pie it is then, love.”

You feel a hand close around your arm, pulling you from both Kol and Klaus and into a pair of arms that rival the dark forest. Elijah lifts you against his chest, giving you a moment to wrap your legs around him before he walks the two of you to the window. He looks out in the water and it eases you knowing that you don’t have to answer to his molten brown eyes.

“I know this is a lot to take in right now, baby. I know you’re scared and tired, I can feel it. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. But just know that we’re here because something stronger than time itself brought us to you. No mistakes were made,” he catches your eyes through the reflection of the glass, “I’m ready for whatever challenges this brings. I’ve been ready for a thousand years, ten lifetimes, and I would wait fifty more for you,” he pulls you further up his chest, pressing his forehead against yours, “just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

You can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips against his, catching his bottom lip between yours, “graduation.”

He pulls back, his eyes wide and his eyebrows scrunched together, “what?”

You pull his face back to yours, stealing another kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to return, “I just need until graduation. I need to finish my last year here, it’s my home. After that, I’m yours.”

He crushes you against him as soon as the last syllable leaves your lips and you let yourself giggle freely. He looks at you in awe, a smile blooming across his face like he just won the lottery. Kol and Klaus are next to you in an instant, their faces almost mirror images of Elijah’s. Your heart soars at the sight of the three boys you met less than three hours ago who you’ve just promised the rest of your life, and longer, to. It sounds ridiculous still but nothing has ever felt so right.

“Well, brothers,” Klaus’ eyes shine happily, “it looks like we’re going to be here longer than we thought.”

#the originals #to #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #Kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #Harry Potter #hogwarts #hufflepuff reader #hufflepuff #tvd #the vampire diaries

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holycatsandrabbits · 3 years

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Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 4

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Chapter 4

1997 (One year later)

The convention center had been beautiful under the blue Minnesota sky when Liam had arrived, and it was still beautiful now with its windows backed by heavy showers of falling snow that threw diffuse, moving light onto the walls inside the conference room. Beautiful and alarming.

Liam’s university was located in Florida. Florida was quite nice in January, and besides, there were theme parks. Didn’t people always like theme parks? But instead, the conference was being held in Minnesota, and this was the final day. In an hour, Liam and his colleagues, other faculty of the history department, were supposed to start the twenty-some-hour drive home.

“Could have been at Disney World,” Kurt remarked, startling Liam. Liam had been too busy watching the storm to realize Kurt had come up beside him.

“What on earth?” Liam asked, quite rightfully surprised, not by Kurt’s sudden unexpected presence, as he was used to that by now, but because Kurt was not a history professor, and therefore didn’t have a reason to be at the conference.

“Thought I’d drop in,” Kurt said. “See how things were going. Anyone interested in your research on Tollense?”

“Everyone. It’s very exciting.” Liam kept his voice low. “Am I talking to myself, or can everyone else see you?”

Kurt smiled at him. “I wouldn’t give you that kind of reputation. I’m visible.” Liam could see it was true, as Kurt’s good looks were attracting a few appreciative glances. “Are you ready to come home?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, we’re due to head out soon. Not that we’re really looking forward to it.”

“Well, your co-workers can head out whenever they like. I’m taking you home.”

“What?”

Kurt looked surprised by Liam’s surprise. “You’re from Florida. You have no idea what to do with snow. They’re pulling locals off the roads, Liam. I'm not letting you drive in this weather.”

“But you don’t even know how to dr— wait.” Liam felt a bit of a shiver crawl up his spine. “Oh, no. I’m not teleporting home.”

“I’ve been doing it for thousands of years. With humans. You know that. It’s perfectly safe.”

“No.”

Now a bit of hurt flashed over Kurt’s features, and like all his dark expressions, it was vaguely unsettling. “You don’t trust me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just don’t want to teleport.”

“Why on earth not?”

Liam hated to lie to Kurt. Partly, it was because Liam was not entirely sure that Kurt couldn’t somehow tell that he was lying. Kurt claimed that he couldn’t read minds, but he was a vampire who could teleport himself from Florida to Minnesota, and Liam would not have been at all surprised to find that Kurt was aware of the snowstorm confronting Liam without having checked the weather.

But it was also true that Kurt was Liam’s best friend and it seemed wrong to lie to him. Except Liam couldn’t tell him the truth about this, because that wasn’t going to help anyone. It was better if Kurt didn’t know that Liam was in love with him, that for over a year now, Liam had been obsessed with the memory of Kurt kissing him, slow and sweet, and that the last thing Liam needed now was for Kurt to pull him close and show off his impressive supernatural abilities in a rescue. Kurt had made it clear that he never allowed himself to fall in love with humans that he met, and Liam had to be protective of his heart, already cracked and in danger of breaking.

“Look, if you are so dead-set on it, you can use your mind-control powers to convince me,” Liam joked, and immediately realized that was worse than lying, because Kurt flinched.

“If I do that,” Kurt said, in what sounded like a carefully controlled voice, “I will lose you anyway.”

“Wh— you’re not going to lose me. I’ll get a hotel, then. Drive home later.”

“I don’t want you driving to a hotel!” Kurt looked exasperated. “Liam, you are the most adventurous person I know. Why not this?”

“Oh, I’m hardly—”

“Yes, you are. You’re like an explorer, always hungry for something new and unusual. You’re brave, and not terribly cautious, which is bad for your driving habits, but it’s perfectly safe when it comes to me, because I am never going to let anything happen to you.”

Kurt had stepped close, and Liam could tell how upset Kurt was because Kurt was losing his grip on the human appearance and mannerisms he tried to put on. Right now he looked sleek and strong and shadowy. He didn’t reach for Liam with his hands, but Liam could feel something surrounding him, like a faint cool mist. It felt oddly familiar, and Liam got the impression that the mist might actually always be there, a piece of Kurt holding onto him, and Liam had just never been consciously aware of it before.

And then everything suddenly snapped back into place: Kurt looked ordinary again, and Liam realized with a shock that a couple of his colleagues had approached them.

“What do you think?” asked one of them. “We’re talking about getting a hotel.”

“I have a ride home,” Liam said faintly. Everyone looked at him in surprise, including Kurt. Few of Liam’s fellow faculty had met Kurt, partly by Kurt’s design, because he wasn’t terribly social, and partly by Liam’s. Liam was aware that his very close friendship with a very handsome man was likely to give him a certain other reputation, one that was quite deserved (though sadly not much practiced), but not very wise in the current political climate.

Nothing for it now. “Chris Mullens, Doris Sullivan, this is my friend Kurt, ah, Smith. He was in town for something else and is heading back to Florida today. He offered me a ride.”

“Is it safe?” Doris asked, looking concerned.

“Kurt’s a very good driver. Got a— a car like a tank.”

Doris laid a hand on Liam’s shoulder, and to Liam’s surprise, Kurt seemed to bristle at that, almost literally, and the whole room seemed to go with him, the air around them feeling oddly sharp. Liam understood that Kurt was concerned that he’d change his mind and be convinced to travel with his colleagues, but it undoubtedly looked like something else from the outside— a sort of possessiveness.

“What a nice friend,” Chris said lightly, looking at Kurt in a way that Liam did not like at all, as if Kurt was not a person but a problem, not a good-looking man but a tempting trap. Liam’s personal belief was that men who were so vehemently opposed to homosexuality were probably terrified that they themselves might be vulnerable to such a “trap,” but it was better if that went unsaid.

Kurt rescued him, of course. “Yes, Liam and I have been friends for a while. I used to date one of his students, Martina.”

Chris’s face cleared a bit, losing some of its distaste. He had apparently not heard of bisexuality, or whatever word might describe Kurt. “Oh. Sure.”

“Ready to go?” Kurt asked Liam. He barely waited for an answer before steering Liam out of the room. They walked down an empty hallway where the storm winds were pushing hard enough to make the windows shift in their frames. Kurt spoke in a gentle voice. “Give it a few years. The world is becoming more tolerant again. Humans keep discovering their natures over and over.”

“This must all be very trite to you.”

“Not in the least.” Kurt’s eyes were sharp on him. “Do you think Chris is the one sending you those threatening letters?”

Liam scoffed. “He barely knows how to tie his shoes. Worse than even the typical history professor.”

Kurt looked unconvinced. “I’ll keep an eye on him all the same.” He held out a hand to Liam. “Let’s go home.”

Liam looked down at Kurt’s hand. A pale blue vein ran delicately along his wrist, and Liam wondered what flowed there, if anything. “What about my luggage?”

“I already picked it up from Dr. Sullivan’s car. It’s at your place.”

“You’re awfully confident that I’d say yes to this.”

Kurt sighed, exasperated. “I can’t believe you haven’t asked me sooner. I thought I’d be taking you to the Louvre every weekend. Or Rome. At least Antietam.”

Liam laughed. “I should have.”

Kurt smiled, looking at ease for the first time since he’d arrived. “You should.”

“Next weekend then.” Liam finally took Kurt’s hand, and their fingers fit together easily. As always, Kurt was slightly cool to the touch.

The convention center faded away into a sort of bland white light. Liam felt like he was floating, but still with his feet planted on the ground. He looked down and found his own office floor beneath his shoes.

“Stay still a moment,” Kurt warned. “People can get dizzy when they’re not used to it.” He dropped Liam’s grasp and put a steadying hand on his arm instead. And now was the moment Liam had dreaded: Kurt was so close, so strong, and so hauntingly strange.

“We must seem so very fragile to you,” Liam said.

“You are fragile.” There was a harsh coldness in Kurt’s voice.

“So how did you learn to do that? To teleport?”

Kurt shrugged. “Just always could.”

“Always?” Liam frowned. “I thought a vampire’s abilities were based on age.”

“They are.”

“But if you’ve been doing it as long as you can remember— since at least Tollense— doesn’t it follow then that your origins would have to be a great deal older than that?”

Kurt narrowed his eyes, considering.

“Or else,” Liam said, “maybe you’re not a vampire.”

“I drink blood.”

“A lot of creatures— uh, beings— are said to drink blood. I’m sorry, it must be so frustrating not to be able to remember.”

Kurt looked at him with a sort of gratitude, but then he turned away, toward the door. A second later, there was a knock, and Kurt finally let go of Liam’s arm.

It was one of Liam’s graduate students at the door, Jonah. “Hey,” he said. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Just have a couple of questions. I thought I heard you talking. Do you have company?”

Most of the students never met Kurt either, despite the fact that he was around quite a bit. Liam had learned by now that Kurt only appeared to those students he thought he might start a relationship with. Kurt had been alone since Martina had graduated, and Liam assumed it would only be a matter of time before he picked another student, someone to provide him with blood and share his bed. In between lovers, Kurt drank blood from animals, but he had told Liam that it was much better to have a human source. Kurt chose those people whom he thought would be open to the idea of a finite relationship with a vampire, those who wouldn’t be afraid of him but also wouldn’t want to stay with him indefinitely. Because Kurt never got attached.

“Let’s find out,” Liam said, and opened the door wider. His heart sank immediately when he saw that Jonah could see Kurt standing by the desk. Liam thought back for a moment to Kurt’s reaction when Doris put her hand on Liam’s arm. But Kurt wouldn’t get jealous, of course.

Liam definitely was.

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Updates Fridays on Ao3 and DannyeChase.com (rated E), and Tumblr (rated T)

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

#Dannye writes #original fiction #serial fiction #tollense #vampires #romance

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Comic-con.”

You guys wanted something fluffier and lighthearted, so I took a suggestion from a group of the Discord server, and did this with it I hope you guys like, and thank you for the suggestions. “Where are you taking me? And why am I wearing this?”

Adam frowned at her, “Don’t be such a party pooper, I took you to watch MMA last week, and now its my turn to pick the fun activity.”

Sunny held up the glowing weapon --of facsimile of a weapon--, “What is this called again.”

“It’s an energy sword, from a really REALLY old video game.”

“And what are you supposed to be.”

Adam turned to look at her, shaking his head in disappointment, “Sometimes, I am sad for your lack of pop culture education.”

“And whose fault is it for my lack of pop culture education?”

He tapped his chin, “I suppose that is true.”

“To be fair the pop culture you subscribe to is like two thousand years old.” She looked him up and down. He was wearing a spacesuit and a jetpack. This might have been normal for him were it not for the painstaking hours that he had spent painting the thing and applying decals.

Where the standard issue UNSC space - suit ranged anywhere from white to silver to dark blue, this one was in a gaudy combination of white with green and purple highlights with a blue decal on the front embossed with the outline of stylized white wings. Under that, he had taken the time to dye one of the old undersuits purple, and was now wearing the hood to complete ‘the affect’

“Seriously though. What are You?”

He turned to look at her grinning and patted her on the shoulder, “Just wait.”

She sighed and did as told following him out of the underground parking lot and up into the sun. She threw her hand over her face as they came up into the sun, and when she withdrew her hand, she found herself surrounded by hundreds of humans all walking towards the same destination, and all of them were dressed, strangely… she couldn’t tell which ones for sure, because humans always seemed to dress strangely, but something bout this gave her the feeling that these ones were doing it on purpose..

At her side, Adam was grinning.

Following the line of people her eyes traced up to the large, and spacious building just up ahead. The walls were made out of metal and glass paneling, and across their surface scrolling scenes from movies and comic strips flashed.

Off to her side, a man in a blue and red suit, with a big yellow S on the front went floating past, his hover boots giving him the effect as if he were flying, red cape billowing out behind him.

Someone else to their side was walking a rather large brown dog towards the building. It had a teel collar and a couple of painted on black spots, while he was wearing a green shirt and brown pants. He looked like he really needed a haircut.

Sunny tilted her head to better read the letters on the building before her.

J. HAIL CONVENTION HALL

They were just outside the doors when someone ran up to them. THey looked younger, maybe in their teens, dressed with an elaborately colored wig, and strange colorful clothes, “Holy Shit! Your costumes are awesome, Can I get a picture?”

“Hell yeah.” Adam motioned the kid closer, pulling Sunny down beside them so the kid could grab a picture and then turn to look at Sunny, “How did you make it look so real. You look just like the Drev from that movie.”

She stared at him before looking down at herself.

Adam laughed, “It looks real because it IS real.”

The kid stared at them in disbelief, “No way.”

“Yeah she's a real life actual alien.”

Eyes went even wider, I...w...wow.”

Sunny shrugged and waved one of her arms to the kid as Adam dragged her further up the line.

“Here, hold out your hand.” She did as told and he wrapped a small plastic bracelet around her wrist. The letters on the band read VIP

Walking over to the doors they were stopped by a group of people holding up their hands. One of them walked around them, and pointed at Adam’s jetpack, “YOu have a licence for that?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

He reached into one of the pockets on his suit and pulled it out to show them. THey looked it over and then nodded, and he grinned. Tey read off some rules before they were suddenly interrupted.

Voices behind them, and Sunny turned.

A group of people walked up, one of them was dressed like a cowboy with a yellow shirt and blue pants, with a brown hat.

Another human in a blow up dinosaur costume pointed at Adam’s uniform,

“And what does that button do.”

Adam grinned, and Sunny watched him with a fond shake of her head as he approached them, putting on some sort of character voice.

“Ill show you.” Looking around to make sure that everyone was clear, he deployed the wings of the jetpack, striped in red and white.

The group oohed and ahhed.

THe cowboy moved forward, “Oh what, these are plastic, he can’t fly.”

“They are a trillium carbonic alloy and I CAN fly.”

“No you can’t”

“Yes I can.”

“Can’t.”

“CAN.”

“Can’t Can’t Can’t.”

“I could fly around this convention center with my eyes closed.”

Sunny just stood there watching them nervously shifting back and forth. She had a feeling that they were arguing, but it also felt very scripted, though how it could be scripted, she didn’t know. They had never seen these people as far as she was concerned.

The other man moved very close, “Ok then my light beer, prove it.”

“Alright then, I will.”

He held out his hands voice growing a bit more serious as he did, “Everyone step back.”

They did as told, and the cowboy was smiling now instead of frowning.

“Adam, is this legal.” Sunny wondered.

He turned to look at her, “Yes, the convention center has its own airspace just for this. I had to sign a waver.” He turned back to the others and ignited the engin on the jetpack kicking off the ground.

His flight was far more controlled than his original flight, and he flew in a fast circle around the area, dropping in with a flip to land before them to the cheering of an amassed crowd.

He pointed at the cowboy, “CAN.”

“That wasn’t flying, that was falling with style.” The man protested though he was grinning even as he walked over to take a picture with Adam.

“Pretty sure that made my day, your costume is awesome. Is this a real spacesuit.”

“You bet it is.”

“Where did you get your hands on one.”

“Oh I have my sources. Did you make your costume?”

“Sewed it myself. The hat and boots I bought though.”

They parted ways with Adam’s new friend and stepped inside the convention center scanning their bracelets as they went in.

“Welcome, Sunny to the biggest nerd convention ever conceived of by man...ComicCon.”

She turned in a wide circle eyes wide at thousands of booths, thousands of people all talking and laughing. He grabbed her hand and dragged hr further inside, “IF your good, I’ll buy you a sword.”

“Nerds want swords?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, “Of course nerds want swords. Here, lets start over there and movie this way, through the art section first.”

Sunny did as told, following after him.

She never knew Adam being one to spend a lot of money, he had no reason too, but after the first ten minutes she figured out that he was a little bit of a spender when it came to nerdy things. Posters and drawings and other related items.

However, she was surprised to find that they did have leather workers and blacksmiths as they were called, and she did…. In fact… get herself a sword which she recognized from the lord of the rings movie he had made her watch. It was a pretty good sword all things considered as if whoever made it actually knew how to make swords.

They were coming around a corner when they almost ran into another group of people. Adam dropped one of his bags and the other reached down to pick it up. When he stood, Sunny's eyes widened. Blond hair green eyes and an eyepatch, “Sweet Costume!”

She shook herself thinking she had bumped her head or something and was seeing double, but no, when she looked closer she realised that this person couldnt have been more than fifteen or sixteen…. And dressed like Adam.

She looked over at Adam who was standing mouth open eyes wide.

“Can I get a picture!”

Sunny just nodded her head as the kid jumped over next to her and had his friend take it before running off yelling back at her about her amazing costume.

Adam turned to look at Sunny, “Did I just>”

“I think you did.”

He shook himself, “Wow.”

She nodded

After that it started happening more and more.

Adam was everywhere, in all stages of life. They had recreated his uniforms, his flight suits, his space suits. They brought their dogs. There were even gender bent versions of him, blond women wearing eyepatches, brown jackets and jeans making it very clear who they were .

It got even more weird when Sunny started seeing herself.

Small children in costumes made of foam.

People wearing onesies that sort of looked like her, and even one costume that had a woman on stilts for her legs, and a complex system of homemade mechanics to allow her to move around.

Adam stood there mouth open just staring at them.

Sunny laughed at the irony.

He was here as a guest, and no one knew.

If only they had any idea that the real deal was here and dressed like a space ranger from a two thousand year old cartoon.

Sunny tilted her head listening to the announcements which said there would be a “Adam Vir look alike contest going on on the other side of the convention.

She turned to look at Adam and they both began to laugh hysterically. She grabbed his arm. We have to see this.

They wandered over just as the others were filtering in. And there were TONS of them, all dressed like Adam. One stopped next to him, spiky blond hair, clearly dyed for the occasion, wearing a flight suit and aviators.

Adam Tried to avoid eye contact with anyone as they sat down to watch, however no one recognized him, not even close.

They sat, watching the judging.

An adorable little boy with blond hair and a NASA T-shirt won for the younger age bracket.

The jumpsuit wearing kid to their right won for his teenage years.

At the end it was up between two men, one in casual wearing and one in a uniform. The one wearing the uniform had a similar lopsided grin as Adam and she would have chosen him as a dead ringer, and was almost put off when they chose the other man, who was, on the other hand, roguishly handsome.

She snorted, “He looks nothing like you.”

“But he does look like Keith Jenning who played me, so I guess people sort of conflate us as being the same person.”

“This is so unreal.”

They laughed again as they walked away sunny pointing out he probably would have lost the contest if he had tried to enter, and he laughed along with her.

THey were perusing through a booth with a bunch of old vintage movies when another announcement came over the intercom, saying that the cast of Adam’s movie was going to be speaking.”

Adam’s eyes widened, and together they made their way wanting to see what all the fuss was about. There were hundreds of people packed into the large room, and they were only able to get space just along one wall.

Up at the table, he recognized Keith Jenning, Rita. Ortiz, and Adler Handen, the voice actor for Krill and the woman who played Sunny.

Adam leaned back against the wall to watch.

Keith didn’t look anything like Adam at this moment, his hair back to brown like it usually was.

Hands raised in the crowd as questions were shot out, “What was the hardest part of playing Adam Vir?”

Keith laughed and then paused, “I think it might have been the eyepatch. I stubbed my toe like…. What was it Rita, we kept track on set.”

“About 456 times during the course of filming.” She added, and the group of them laughed.

“How accurate is the story to what actually happened?” Someone called out

Adler Handen leaned forward, “You know it was actually pretty accurate because Adam Vir was actually consulting through the whole process, though I think it is glammed up to make him look maybe a little more….”

“Poised.” Rita added, “Ellis gave him a bit of an action hero spin.”

“What is he actually like?”

Keith smiled as did Rita, “He’s hilarious, and kind, and a bit of a clutz I would say.”

Rita laughed, “That is one part of the movie that is inaccurate. I think they should have put it in, but he was like the last man to step onto Proxima B, and when he did he says he actually fell out of the shuttle and landed on his face.”

There was laughter from the crowd.

“Honestly a really modest guy all told.

“He has the personality of a golden retriever…. In a good way obviously.” Rita said

Keith had stood up from his palace at the table and was looking around the crowd for more questions, when his eyes fell on Adam and Sunny not a few rows away leaning against the wall.

The recognition was instantaneous, despite them not having seen for a long time. He pointed his eyes wide, “Adam…. Adam is that you. Sunny?”

The entire crowd turned and thousands of eyes fell on them.

Adam was stuck like a deer in the headlights hands held up.

“No way It IS YOU. Someone grab a chair and get him up here.”

Rita stood in her seat and waved.

Now people were standing to get a good look at them as two security people motioned them up.

Adam was bright red in the face as he was pushed to come on stage. The people looked confused, but when Adam pulled off his hood, and pulled on his eyepatch the entire convention center began cheering.

“Yeah give the man a round of applause.” Keith said pulling out a chair for him to sit on while Rita did the same for Sunny.

Adam shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“Nice costume, is that from Toy story?”

Adam shrugged, ‘Yeah, or the Tv show I guess.”

Someone hurried over with another microphone as the crowd below continued to babble and point.

Keith leaned forward, “Did I mention he was a raging nerd. Did you wear the costume to hide or….”

Adam shook his head, “No, I've been coming to the convention since I was a kid.”

There was cheering in the crowd.

Hands were raised high into the air for questions, and Adam blinked a bit red in the face still.

“Is it true what they said about Proxima B?”

Adam smiled, “uh yeah I fell flat on my face, right out the door. You see the movie had a ramp, but a ot of our ships don’t have ramps, they have doors because it would kind of be…. Impractical to have a whole ramp opening up into an airlock. So instead it had a door and stairs. And I got so excited that I missed the second stair and just fell.

“How accurate is the rest of the movie?”

He shrugged, still blushing, “They did make me look a little more… heroic, than I actually am. I mean there is a little known fact among members of the UNSC that doing a warp without a warp dampener like we did on the Enterprise was…. How shall we say… extremely hard on the body. About fifty percent of the men on the bridge peed themselves and passed out.”

There was laugher from the crowd.

“Were you part of the fifty percent?”

He snorted, “ I was nineteen of COURSE I was part of the fifty percent. Captain Kelly had a bladder of Iron though.”

More laughter.

“And when it came to meeting with aliens for the first time, I was so excited that I ran after them right….. Well as it turns out, to the aliens it looked really, really bad. Like they thought I was going to eat them.” More laughter, “We are still trying to repair human/Bran relations five years later because of me.”

More questions.

“What is your funniest story, something that didn’t appear in the movie?”

Adam had to think about it for a minute, “Did I ever tell you about the first time we met Iotins or the Celzex.”

Cheering in the crowd,.

“Ok ok, so The one thing you need to know about Iotins is that they smell good, and I don’t mean your girl’s perfume good, I mean like continental breakfast with bacon and eggs and potatoes and I don’t know what else.” Sunny smiled as she listened to the sound of the crowd’s amusement, “This is the kind of smell that turns you into one of pavlov’s Dogs. Drooling all over yourself stomach grumbling the whole nine. So when we met them for the first time, it was during a GA convention and my men hadn’t eaten since breakfast. It was so bad, I drooled all over my uniform and we scared the Iotin council half to death.”

He smiled as the crowd encouraged him into more stories.

“Then of course there is the Celzex, a very war-like race, very honor bound and very easy to offend. And yet they are about a foot tall rainbow colored, fluffy and with adorable pig ears. These guys were designed to be cuddled, and yet, not one human has ever done it for fear of pissing them off since they have weapons that could glass our entire planet.”

He was Animated as he told his stories, and the crowd was animated with him

“Sunny, i have a question.” She lifted her head in surprise, “Is it true you grew up in a stone hut/”

She hummed deep in her chest, “Yes, where else would I have grown up.”

“So you didn’t have electricity?”

She shook her head, “No, why would we need it?”

She answered a few more questions.

And then one young man stood.

“So, I was wondering, you supported the LFIL during their protests.”

Adam shifted nervously in his seat, “I did.”

“And it’s because of you that they are in a probationary state of legality.”

“Yes.”

.”“So I was wondering, considering all that and considering your relationship with Sunny. Have you tow ever thought about dating.” Adam blanched white and you could have heard a pin drop.

Sunny glanced quickly over at adam. A part of her really wanted him to admit it to people, but another part of her-- the bigger part-- knew that doing it here in front of thousands of people would be a disaster. He opened his mouth to stammer out a question but Sunny leaned forward towards her mic.

“You misunderstand Drev courting customs. He would have to be able to beat me in a fight first.

Factions of the room muttered, and Sunny quickly moved the conversation on to more Funny stories.

Adam turned his head towards her with a look of relief.

With her head turned form the cameras she gave him a brief wink before turning back.

They didn’t exactly get to see the rest of the convention as they were waylaid by people wanting autographs and to talk to him. He of course was good natured and answered all their questions with a smile and gave pictures with enthusiasm.

She smiled

He was kind like that.

Thought some worries gnawed at the back of her mind.

People were beginning to suspect, and that could be a big problem for Adam.

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

Text

Just a Friend

Sorry you’ve had to wait a few more days. i had a much needed few days holiday in Devon. And I realised it was the first time since February that I’d travelled more than 20 miles from home!

Anyway, we’re on to chapter 7. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta.

AO3

Chapter 7: From Feedback to The Force

I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye. A converted barn, situated at the end of a leafy country lane, surrounded by fields full of cows and maybe a horse or two. Jamie’s office will be at one end— all exposed beams with classic mahogany and leather furniture. Perhaps chickens will be roaming around outside as tractors pull up to deliver vegetables straight from the neighbouring fields.

This image begins to fade as I follow my Sat nav instructions and take the next junction off the motorway. Country lanes look to be few and far between in this urban sprawl. Signposts along the tarmacked road point to a series of industrial estates. At the fourth such sign, I’m instructed to turn left and in three hundred yards will have reached my destination.

Having parked up, I make my way towards the large, uninspiring building which resembles some sort of aircraft hangar. Its grey concrete and corrugated iron walls match the overcast sky and the roughly surfaced car park. The only colour in this landscape is provided by the bright orange FraserFood logo emblazoned above the loading bays.

There’s a single door to the right with an intercom. I press it and wait a few seconds.

“Hello, there.” A cheery voice greets me. “Can I help ye?”

“Yes. Hello, I’ve an appointment with Ja— Mr. Fraser, Jamie. It’s Claire Beauchamp.”

“Aye, come on through. Jamie is expecting ye. Down the passage and third door on the left.”

I step into a long corridor, painted an unoriginal white. Fluorescent strip lights hanging from the ceiling cast a harsh brightness. The floor is covered with grey carpet tiles.—the same as in thousands of other working offices across the country.

What sets it apart and brings character to the otherwise anonymous environment is the artwork. Colourful photographs line the walls — a bowl of strawberries, their red glossiness accentuated by the white porcelain; a perfect corn on the cob, rivulets of melted butter flowing around the kernels; a plate of steaming tagliatelle, the parmesan shavings falling gently onto the pasta. Then, as I move further towards the office, the photographs change to a series of images that I instantly recognise, La Boqueria, one of the food markets in Barcelona.

I pause for a moment in front of a picture of one of the stalls selling spices. Strings of different chillies cascade down from the metal frame of the stall. The vibrancy of that market was intoxicating, the noise, the colours, the aromas. I remember wandering from stall to stall snacking on fat, juicy olives, slices of spiced ham and wedges of refreshing melon, just soaking up that atmosphere.

My stomach automatically rumbles at the memory just as Jamie steps into the corridor.

He laughs at this unconventional greeting. “And good day tae ye too. Ye found us alright then?”

“No problem. Sat nav brought me straight here. It’s—“ I stop myself before I say any more, but, as usual, my glass face gives me away.

“C’mon. What is it? It’s no’ what ye were expecting, is it?”

“No— yes—no. It’s fine. It’s just, well, I was expecting something more, er, rural… rustic, you know.”

He sighs, but I can tell that he’s not offended. “What, ye mean like on a farm? Wi’ chickens running around? And tractors bringing the vegetables straight from the fields?”

I nod, feeling not a little bit foolish.

“And down a wee winding country lane, that yer lumbering great vans and lorries have tae drive along? Wi’ no easy transport links fer all the deliveries? And having tae deal wi’ all the food hygiene standards in some great old barn?” He laughs. “Trust me, it may no’ be photogenic but it’s the best place fer the business.”

He takes my arm. “Let’s go intae ma office and I’ll make ye a cup of coffee.”

My stomach rumbles once more. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any of those lovely Spanish biscuits too, have you?”

*********

The display of colourful photographs continues in Jamie’s office. I don’t recognise the scenes, but, I’m guessing these are more local— fields of corn bordered by old drystone walls, hedgerows bursting with dark jewel-like brambles. I pause at a picture of an ancient stone mill, the calm water of the mill pond reflecting the rundown building perfectly.

“That’s a bonny picture, is it no’?” Jamie’s voice is low in my ear.

I turn around. He is standing behind me, gazing intently at the picture.

“It is. Where is it? I’m guessing it’s somewhere here in Scotland.”

“Aye, it’s the old mill at Lallybroch.”

“Where you grew up?”

He nods. “Generations of ma family used that mill tae grind flour fer them and their tenants. It’s empty inside now. The wheel has long since rotted away. Jenny and I would escape there whenever chores were tae be done. She took the photo, weel, most of the photos here actually.”

I study the photograph more closely. “She’s very talented as a photographer. Is that her job?”

“She’d love tae have done that, but once she married Ian and the bairns started appearing, she hasna got the time. Mebbe one day.”

He moves past me towards his desk and I catch a hint of his musky cologne. I find myself comparing it to the slightly synthetic cologne that Frank always favoured. I decide that Jamie’s is preferable. It’s more real, somehow, earthy and, well, more masculine.

“... does that sound ok?”

I realise that whilst I was considering male scents, Jamie had been asking me a question. “Er, sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”

“Am I really that boring tae ye?” He laughs. “I said I would make ye a coffee and invite Rupert tae come in and join us. He’s our Head of Product Development. Will ye no’ take a seat?”

I sit down on one of the chairs arranged around a circular meeting table and take a good look at the office while Jamie makes a phone call. The walls and ceiling are the same uninspiring white, livened up by all the photographs. There’s a couple of framed photographs near Jamie’s chair that seem to be more personal. I’m too far away to be able to see clearly, but they look like children... his nephew and niece perhaps?

Jamie’s ‘L’ shaped desk is made of grey wood, as is a tall bookcase and this meeting table. Simple, but clearly a considered purchase, no haphazard grouping of random furniture. The desk itself is remarkably free from clutter— just a laptop with two huge screens and a black leather document wallet. The contrast to the clutter on the desks in my office and home couldn’t be greater. Not that my clutter isn’t important to me—a collection of pots and dishes from my uncle’s archaeological digs plus a paperweight and letter opener that I remember, as a young child, at my parents’ house. Then I realise, looking at the family portraits surrounding Jamie’s desk, that he doesn’t need to gather mementoes from the past. He has a living, breathing close knit family creating memories all the time.

I’m well aware that most of my friends have more of a family than I have, or have ever had, and generally I’m fine with that. But every now and again it hits me right in the gut—this pang of...not loneliness, but more of being disconnected, rootless.

Before I can dwell on this, there’s a faint tap at the door. It opens immediately and a woman stands in the doorway. She’s easily past retirement age, quite short and… is sturdy a polite descriptor? Well, short and ‘motherly’ in appearance.

She’s very smiley too. Her eyes crinkle as she grins broadly before speaking. “Jamie, lad. I’ve come tae see if ye both want a coffee. I dinna mind making it. And mebbe a few biscuits?”

Jamie steps away from his desk. “Ah, Mrs. Fitz, how d’ye always ken what I want? Coffee would be grand. And fer ye Claire?”

“Coffee, please. Lovely. White, no sugar. Thanks.”

She looks at me for a moment before Jamie makes the introduction. “ Claire, this is Mrs Fitz. She’s worked wi’ me since I started and I dinna ken what I’d do wi’out her.”

He reaches across and pats her arm gently.

“Mrs. Fitz, this is Claire, a friend of mine. She’s been trying out our Spanish dinner party menu and has come tae meet wi’ Rupert tae give him her opinions.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fitz.” I hold out my hand.

She takes it in both of hers. “And it’s lovely tae meet ye too, Claire.”

She turns away and heads out the door.

“Right-oh. Two coffees it is then,” she says clearly, then carries on muttering under her breath as she leaves. “Friends, is it, then? A bonny lass, sure enough…”

Jamie smiles apologetically. “Mrs. Fitz can be a bit, weel...she’s been working with me a long time. She’s like a second mother tae me…”

He leaves the sentence unfinished, but I know what he’s thinking. Why can’t people understand that we’re friends, that’s all?

*******

Rupert is a complete delight, but somehow not what I was expecting. He rushes into the office just as Jamie and I are drinking our coffees. Nearly as tall as Jamie but quite a bit broader with a large beard, like an overgrown teddy bear, and clad in a sweatshirt and baggy ill-fitting jeans, he looks as if he would be more at home on a rugby pitch rather than in a development kitchen. With Jamie now standing next to him, the office suddenly feels rather small.

Jamie makes the introductions and we settle once more around the table. Rupert places his notebook and pen on the table.

“Ye dinna mind if I take a biscuit or two, do ye?” He asks, with a smile. He knows how tasty they are.

Jamie and I shake our heads and Rupert reaches out and takes two in his large, fleshy hand. He starts to eat, sprinkling crumbs all over his notebook.

“Ye canna take me anywhere,” he says as he tries to sweep the crumbs into his hand.

Jamie laughs and playfully punches Rupert’s shoulder. “Weel, ye can… but only the once, mind.”

There’s an easy camaraderie between the two of them. I’m guessing that Jamie has worked with the same people for quite a while. It’s good to see.

Rupert swallows, picks up a tissue and wipes the stray crumbs from his beard. “Right-oh. So, Claire, thanks fer doing this—“

“No, I should be thanking you. It was a great meal.”

“Weel, glad tae hear that, but I would appreciate any improvements we could make. Is there anything we need tae change?”

I’ve been racking my brains all the way here, trying to think of something constructive to say rather than just reeling off a list of compliments, nice as that would be for Rupert and Jamie. And, honestly, I don’t know what more I can add. The food was excellent, the wine matched perfectly and the olives were a thoughtful addition.

I tell them all this and Rupert solemnly notes it all down. Sitting there, side by side, elbows almost touching, they look for all the world like two proud parents being complimented on their child’s talents. But they have every right to be proud.

“And nothing else?” Rupert persists. “Nothing we could do better?”

“Well, a couple of tiny suggestions. Maybe a few more pictures with the recipes would help. I’m not the most gifted cook.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jamie trying to suppress a smile. He’s never seen me in the kitchen, maybe he’s imagining me as some sort of culinary disaster area. I vow to prove him wrong at some point.

“And,” I continue as Rupert scribbles in his notebook. “Perhaps add a couple of suggestions to complete the Spanish night. I made sangria to start the evening. Could you add a recipe for that?”

Rupert closes his notebook with a flourish. “Right then. Thank ye sae much fer that. Glad yer friends all enjoyed the food.”

He stands up, shifting the table as he does so.

“Weel, bye then, Claire. Lovely tae meet ye. Hope tae see ye again.” He shoots a quick look across at Jamie before leaving.

“Rupert’s a lovely guy,” I comment as the door shuts behind him.

“Aye, he is that,” Jamie shifts in his seat. “Listen, I need tae ask ye a favour.”

“Another one,” I joke. “Wasn’t the dinner party enough?”

I add a sigh, purely for dramatic effect.

“Ye can say no if ye want tae,” he continues. “But I was wondering… weel... Ian, that’s Jenny’s husband, his rugby club is having a charity dinner dance a week on Saturday. Jenny’s bought two tickets fer me and a plus one. D’ye fancy it? It would help me out of a wee bit of bother with ma sister.”

Now I’m intrigued about his “wee bit of bother” with Jenny. I don’t want to end up in the middle of some sibling squabble.

“How so?” I’m not giving an answer straight away. At least not until I know what the bother is.

“Jenny bought the two tickets fer me a couple of months ago. I think she was assuming I would bring Laoghaire. But ye ken what happened there. Anyways, she asked me yesterday about it, and ever so casually suggested I might bring Kelly— that was ma date the other night.”

The pattern of Rupert’s crumbs on the table appears to suddenly be of great interest to him. He studies them intently as he talks, his ears turning slightly pink as he does so.

“And?” I prompt him.

“And, I told Jenny that after Laoghaire and I broke up, I didna want tae disappoint her about the dinner and so I’d already asked ye tae come along. As a friend,” he hastily adds the last part.

So, what do I decide? I do love the opportunity to have a bit of a dance and rugby club dos are usually a bit of a laugh, in my experience. And of course, I know Jamie is offering as a friend, so I’m not worried about that.

“Why don’t you want to ask Kelly then?” I want the full story before I give him my answer.

“She’s a nice enough lass but I didna think we had any spark. Plus she was trying too hard. Fer example she asked me what films I liked, then when I told her, she was all ‘no way, they’re ma favourites too’.”

He adds gestures at this point, to demonstrate Kelly’s actions, one hand flapping excitedly, the other resting on my sleeve, lightly stroking through the fabric of my shirt. It feels—

“Apparently we have exactly the same taste in films, music, food, drinks, television and holidays,” he continues as he sits back and folds his arms.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven to me.” I joke. I can still feel the sensation of his hand on my arm.

He looks up at me and frowns. “I’m no’ joking. Ye would be helping me if ye came as ma plus one.”

“Ok then. I do know that I’m not on call. I can come and be your wingman, if you like. Just one question. What are your favourite films?”

“Star Wars.”

This wasn’t the answer I was expecting. He doesn’t seem like a typical fan. Maybe he has a dark side that I haven’t yet seen, with a secret stash of Star Wars figures and multiple light sabres.

“I’ve never watched any of them.” It’s true. I seem to be in the minority but I just don’t get the appeal.

“And I can tell from yer face exactly what ye think of them. But they’re classics, weel most of them, anyway,” he starts to enthuse.

I shake my head. I can’t see that he will ever convince me.

“Well, Sassenach, have I got a treat in store for you!”

And, worryingly, it seems that he’s up for the challenge.

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Just a Friend #James Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Chapter 7

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hela-avenger · 4 years

Text

poison & wine- part 34

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 2243

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N: Yup its a long one! But I needed to make up for all the emotional damage I caused in the previous parts. Took me some time to get it right but I hope you enjoy it!

poison & wine masterlist

“I can’t begin to comprehend why such a thing needs to be rehearsed,” Loki mutters unhappily into his glass of whiskey. He glances around the decorated lawn of the compound that was littered with the rest of the Avengers and their close associates. “Is this going to be everyone?”

“Why?” Thor asks as he pulls out his flask of Asgardian mead from his coat pocket. “Looking for someone specifically?”

“No,” Loki is quick to answer. “No, I… I just thought that she would be here.”

“She?”

Loki sighs at the mistake made but refuses to elaborate. His brother had attempted to get him to speak of what occurred in Asgard. Thor had noticed his brother’s foul mood but could not piece together what might have happened much to Loki’s relief. Thor was in the dark as much as Loki was as he had yet to make any sense of it himself.

You had left. You abandoned him with no reason and it hurt. It hurt to think that he had driven you away.

“Well whoever she is, brother, I’m glad it was enough to get you out of your room,” Thor answers cheerfully. “I was growing worried.”

Loki doesn’t offer him a response instead motioning Thor to place half of his flask into Loki’s now empty cup. If he were to get through this rehearsal dinner, Loki might need a few drinks in him.

A high squeal is heard from afar but Loki ignores it knowing it must have been the easily amused Witch.

“Ah, the Lady Y/N has arrived,” Thor comments passively as he watches Wanda head to the valet entrance. “It’s good to see she’s alive. Everyone was quite worried about her.”

At hearing your name, Loki turns away from his brother to find you stepping out of a car. Wanda doesn’t waste a moment as she immediately pulls you into a hug causing your laughter to fill the air. Her excitement of your return is excessive even more so as she notices the date you’ve brought.

Bucky Barnes hands the keys over to the valet before settling by your side. Being a gentleman, he offers you his arm to take and you do which sends Wanda into another fit of excited laughter.

Loki finds himself unable to breathe. You always had a way to take his breath away, but this was different. It broke him to see you and your past lover together.

“Are you going to say hello to her?”

Loki shakes his head and looks away, downing the mead that Thor had shared with him before searching for the nearest bar for a refill.

You watch as Wanda disappears into the crowd as she goes off to search for Natasha. It wouldn’t be long now for everyone to find out that you were back. Wanda would make sure of spreading the news and you knew you had a long night ahead because of it.

“I didn’t realize that Wanda was very…” Bucky trails off as he tries to avoid the word that came to mind.

“...Nosy?” you finish for him.

“You said it, not me,” Bucky laughs.

“She’s just protective of me,” you shrug. “I’ve been gone for months and I left without saying goodbye. I owe everyone an explanation.”

“You don’t owe anyone anything,” Bucky tells you. “You left because you needed to take care of yourself. You don’t need to explain that to anybody.”

You let out a sigh and are quick to grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. You knew Bucky was right but you had to offer them something. You disappeared, and though it was for your sanity in mind, your friends deserved better from you.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you whisper to him.

“For what?”

“For everything,” you answer. “For covering for me, hearing me out, and tonight especially for coming as my date.”

“Well, it’s the least I could do for an old friend,” Bucky responds with a smile. “I’m just happy that you’re happy.”

You look away as he says this not necessarily feeling that way.

You’re anxious.

Not because you were finally facing the music with all of your friends, but because this was the first time you would be in the same vicinity as Loki since that last night in Asgard.

“You are happy, right?”

“If I say no, will you judge me?” you ask him.

Bucky takes in your fallen expression and is quick to pull you into a half-embrace. You rest your head on his shoulder and sigh.

“I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. He’s under my skin. He’s in there pretty deeply and I… I wouldn’t want him anywhere else.”

Bucky presses a soft kiss at the crown of your head before letting you go.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” he offers. “Put those matters to rest so you can finally move on.”

Before you can refuse, Bucky continues.

“Look, you can’t keep running. You’ll never stop,” Bucky tells you. “You can’t drive yourself away from the people who care about you the most because you’re afraid of what you feel for him.”

He had a point, but you refused to follow his advice. The pain was still so fresh and you still couldn’t manage it.

“He’s here, you know?” Bucky adds. “He’s been watching you the moment we came in.”

“Bucky…”

He doesn’t allow you another word as he slowly turns you around. Through the crowded dance floor, you find the Asgardian brothers together. Thor was oblivious to your stare while Loki quickly caught it.

Your breath catches in your throat but you can’t find it in yourself to look away. Even though dancing couples kept crossing your field of vision, he was the only person you could see.

As much as you wanted to allow yourself to be overwhelmed by the warmth and serenity that came with seeing him, you couldn’t ignore how your heart broke all over again.

“Dance,” you state as you down your champagne and set it aside. You turn to Bucky immediately after. “Take me to dance.”

Bucky hesitates but the pleading look that you offer him is enough to take your offered hand and lead you to the dance floor. You moved in sync with him allowing him to take the lead as he swayed you from side to side.

“He’s still watching,” Bucky whispers by your ear.

“I can’t… please…” you whisper back. “Please stop.”

“It breaks my heart to see you like this, doll.”

“Then maybe it was a bad idea coming back,” you state. “Maybe I should leave…”

“Leave? You just got here!”

You turn around to find Tony with an exasperated look on his face. He turns over to Bucky with a half-nod.

“May I cut in for a quick second?”

Bucky spins you into Tony’s arms not allowing you a choice. You’re trapped when Tony takes over and starts to lead you away from Bucky.

“Heard you came back,” Tony starts off. “Glad to see it's true.”

“I can explain…”

“No, no explanation needed,” Tony interrupts. “I’m sure you needed some rehab after spending some time with the Prince of Hell. I would have given him shit about it but he seems to be beating himself up for whatever happened up there.”

“Tony,” you sigh out. “He didn’t do anything.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“Because I… I just needed some time away,” you answer. “I can’t say much from that. I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Fine…” Tony draws out. “Are you… Are you ok though?”

“No,” you answer honestly. “For the first time in my life, I’m kind of lost.”

“Tell me how I can help.”

“You’re already doing it,” you answer as you lean into his shoulder. “This, right here, being here for me. It’s all I needed right now.”

“We’re family, kid,” Tony sighs out.

“Yeah,” you agree with him in relief. “Family.”

The song comes to an end and you pull away from Tony. You press a kiss on his cheek and wipe off the residue of your lipstick.

“Congrats by the way,” you smile at him. He starts to lead you out of the dance floor and you follow him. “Who would have thought this day would come?”

“Ah yes, the genius billionaire playboy finally settles down.”

“Women and men everywhere are absolutely devastated,” you joke.

“Stop feeding his ego,” Steve speaks up as he arrives with Bucky by his side. “There’s barely enough space for it as it is.”

“Yeah, doll,” Bucky agrees. “Man calls himself a genius and yet he can’t make a flying car happen.”

You can’t help but laugh as Tony rolls his eyes.

“Just because my father proposed such an outrageous idea doesn’t mean I have to follow through with it.”

The argument continues between them causing everyone to laugh. You feel yourself lighten a bit. It felt good to be surrounded by people you cared about. You can’t remember the last time that you felt this way.

“So Wanda was quick to tell me you came here with Bucky,” Natasha whispers as she manages to sneak by your side. “Didn’t realize you were into older men.”

You can’t help but snort at hearing this from her. If only she knew how right she was. Though Bucky was technically younger than you, you were indeed in love with a thousand year old being.

“Yeah, I uh… I didn’t realize it either.”

Natasha passes you a flute of champagne. You knew she was settling in to start her questioning which you were sure you weren’t ready for.

“So who would have thought,” Natasha whispers. “Loki of Asgard…”

You shouldn’t have been surprised that she found you out without even asking you anything. She was the spy after all.

“He’s been watching you all night and you’ve been ignoring him,” Natasha explains. “Besides, I watched the security feed of the day you came back. Nice dress by the way.”

“Nat…”

“You left and two minutes later, Loki arrives but you’re already gone. You both have been distant since then.”

You don’t know how to respond so you simply take a drink and look away from her. Only to find Thor and Loki entering the group to be a part of the lively discussion. Loki’s sight remains on you and you can’t afford to be this close to him for too long.

“I uh… I need a minute.”

You leave Natasha without hearing a reply as you search for Bucky. You find him chatting with Steve and you are quick to pull him aside.

“Doll, what’s wrong?”

“I’m leaving,” you tell him. “I can’t be here anymore.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow for the wedding.”

“No, you actually won’t,” you answer. “I’m going back home. I… Everyone apparently knows what went down between Loki and I and I can’t… I’m not in the mood to get into all of that and he’s right here. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t. Tell everyone I’m sorry. Tell Tony… I’m sorry.”

You don’t wait for Bucky’s response as you abandon your glass and slip into the nearby crowd hoping no one has noticed.

Bucky is quick to cut across the group to reach him. Loki’s hold on his glass tightens at the sight of the soldier which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Bucky wasn’t looking for a fight but he would be willing to get into one if it meant you stayed.

“She’s leaving,” Bucky tells him. “Y/N is leaving and I don’t think she’s coming back this time. So if you care about her at all then do something about it because you’re not going to get a second chance.”

Loki knows he’s telling the truth but he’s confused as to why the soldier is coming to him for help.

“Why are you telling me this?” Loki asks. “You’re the one she loves.”

“If you seriously believe that then you’re a bigger fool than I thought you were,” Bucky answers. “She only has eyes for you but you made a mistake and it broke her. So if you love her like I know you do, then go after her now. Give her a reason to stay.”

Loki doesn’t hesitate now as he passes off his glass to the waiting soldier and chases after you. By fate’s way, the crowd seems to part for him allowing him a chance to reach you before you could make it to the valet.

“Y/N, wait.”

You stop, faltering to take a step away from him. Loki could tell you wish to but you remain rooted in place.

“What do you want, Loki?”

He barely manages to catch your voice. It’s soft and quiet, defeated. You can’t even turn to look at him causing your question to twist into his heart like a dagger. Whatever content you held for him was gone now.

“For you to stay,” Loki answers simply. “I’ll leave if it makes you comfortable. These are your friends and family celebrating. I have no reason to stand in your way. I’ll leave so you won’t have to.”

“That’s really all you came to say to me?” you scoff with a shake of your head. “Really?”

“I don’t know what-”

You’re quick to silence him when you turn around and crash your lips against his seeking a kiss that should have been given so long ago.

poison & wine tag: @damalseer @just-the-hiddles @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @smollest-soybean @assassinoftheworld @readerbandit @doyoufeelikeayounggod @strangemcuvlogs @ha-tep @i-dont-know-eiither @gene-king @day-dreaming-fox @bn-studies @is-it-madness @devilbat @victor-criss-bish @skinny-macncheese @musicconversedance @baby-bunnyxn @fandoms-allovertheplace @marvelloonie @jinxjinxednova @queenmuahaha @accio-boys @eternalqueensworld @umlvk @roger-the-reindeer @punkrockhufflefluff @your-local-abyss @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rogerrhqpsody @imsad420 @pandacookieowo @justnerdystuffs @hanoi15 @oneprolificqueen @nikki-who-likes-coffee @fandomrelative @nikki419ninja @onedollarduck @help-i-need-a-social-life @ephemeraljade @catsladen @amwolowicz @captainmarvelnerd @thegirlbeyondtheuniverse @ddaeing @leftperfectionmoon

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-njorddottir @aoirohi @defunctcherrybomb @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @moonlightprime @badhollandfluff

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satoruvt · 4 years

Text

the color of you - gold (2)

i lost the template for the banner i used in part one so i had to make a new one and it looks different and im sad but at least this chapter is fuckin AWESOME

pairing → keigo takami x bakery owner!reader

word count → 1736

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him… right?

song inspo → portland by armors

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

“Does everything look correct?”

The packet in front of you is intimidating, thick and detailing every aspect of the relationship you and Hawks are supposed to have. You flip through the pages, looking over the big points - no one but you, Hawks, his publicist and your lawyer are to know about the terms of your “relationship,” you need to be okay with having your picture taken, and the whole thing will only last a few months to cover a few press conferences and an awards ceremony. The line for your signature on the last page is blank - you expected Hawks to have signed it already, but the line above his name is blank as well. The ball’s in your court, it’s saying.

“Yes,” you say, nodding up at his publicist. “Everything looks fine, thank you.”

“Any boundaries?” Hawks speaks up, and you meet his eyes from across the table. You shake your head no, offering a curt, gentle smile. Your lawyer hands you a pen to sign the contract, and after a deep breath, you drag the pen across the paper in your name. Hawks does the same after you.

“There we go,” he says when he’s done, clicking the pen. His smile is laid-back, easy. “We’re officially in an unofficial relationship.”

You can’t help the smile that dances on your lips, because it really is ironic, but it’s quickly forgotten as the publicist goes over the general idea. There are big events scheduled for the two of you to be seen together - the press conferences, a few dates, the awards ceremony. You’re welcome to do anything else that you might want, the publicist says, and you don’t miss the wink Hawks sends you.

The rest of the meeting is settled with a copy of the contract handed to your lawyer, and the four of you disperse. You’re gathering up your things when you see Hawks waiting in the doorway. “Let me walk you to the front,” he says, and you do.

His agency building is smaller than you thought it would be, given he’s the number two hero. You get strange looks from a few people as the two of you walk towards the front - you’re not surprised, if you were anybody else but yourself you’d be curious too - and it’s not until the two of you are in the elevator, taking it down to the first floor, that Hawks speaks again.

“So,” he begins, and you turn towards him. “Fancy going on a date with me tonight?”

His gaze is playful, so you join in, and it’s not as awkward as you thought it would be. “You read my mind. Must be a lovers’ connection.”

He likes the humor, you decide, when his teasing smirk grows into a grin. “Well, I figure since we’re gonna be dating for the next few months, I should know about my new girlfriend. Doesn’t do well for the press if they ask me questions about you that I don’t know how to answer.”

You laugh, nodding along to his words. The elevator doors open and the two of you continue to the front of the building in comfortable silence.

“I’m very much looking forward to our date tonight,” you tell him when the two of you reach the front doors. They slide open as another person walks into the building, and the warm air from outside brushes against your legs. Hawks grins, pulls you closer to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. It takes you by surprise and you feel your face grow hot, but before you can say anything Hawks is already walking back to his office.

“See you tonight, babe!” He calls, and you roll your eyes, but the soft smile on your face would fool anyone.

And although it’s embarrassing to blush over something as simple as a cheek kiss, you suppose the pink on your face is a good thing. You notice paparazzi outside of the agency, and they definitely saw what just happened.

By this point, you’re not really nervous to be going on a date - “date” - with Hawks, but Jesus, it’s stressful to pick out what the hell you’re gonna wear. Do you actually try? Do you put on some jeans and a nice blouse and call it good? What does going on a fake date with the Number Two hero call for?

In the end you settle for a sundress, something in the middle. It doesn’t take much longer for you to finish up getting ready before you’re heading out the door to the restaurant Hawks had told you to meet him at. You’re lucky it’s not that far away - a fifteen minute walk at most. The sun glows in the evening light, drenching the world in melted gold.

The restaurant is small, but filled with a decent amount of people. When you step inside the gentle hum of overlapping conversation fills your bones, and you see Hawks in a booth down a walkway. You point him out to the hostess and she lets you find your way to him.

“It’s awfully rude to keep your date waiting,” he says when you get close enough, standing up to greet you.

“What can I say? I dress to impress.”

Hawks kisses your cheek and you scrunch your nose at the feel of his stubble on your face. He lets you into one side of the booth, and you’re expecting him to sit on the opposite side, but instead he sits next to you. The low light of the lamp overhead makes his eyes brighter.

“You do look great.”

“Why, thank you.”

Both of you are teasing, playful, and the conversation is fluid to follow. You’re not speaking across a table so your voices are hushed, gentle, and you think you’re starting to understand why Hawks chose to sit next to you rather than across from you - it’s intimate, couple-y.

“You know,” you say, finger tracing the rim of your wine glass, “since we’ve been dating for a total of, like, five hours, there’s a lot that I don’t know about you.”

“Ugh, were you even a fan?” Hawks teases, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. His tone softens when you make eye contact with him. “Ask away.”

“For starters, I don’t even know your real name.” You lean your head on your palm as you look at him. “And I feel like, as your girlfriend, I am entitled to that.”

Hawks chuckles, and there’s a certain look in his eyes that you can’t put your finger on. “It’s Keigo Takami.”

Keigo.

“Keigo, huh?” You repeat. It floats around in your mind, lingers on your tongue like the taste of honey. It reminds you of amber, gold, of coins and riches. Keigo.

“Well, I’m Y/N L/N.”

“I know, I looked you up.”

“At least one of us is smart.”

By the time your food comes, you’re barely eating, and it catches up to you how much the two of you have been talking. You’d been worried that the whole thing would be awkward and weird and not at all convincing, but you’re certain if anyone saw the two of you right now, they’d assume you were dating. The conversation rarely stops, and if it does -

Oh. He’s close.

There’s a moment of silence, a break from talking as you shift from one topic to another. On top of the two of you already being close from sitting on the same side of the table, with how much you’ve been talking, you’ve just gravitated towards each other. His arm is draped over the back of the bench, casual, but you can’t really focus when you fixate on his lips.

“And so we, um…” you trail off, then blink yourself out of your trance. “Wow, I completely forgot what I was gonna say.”

Hawks - Keigo - notices, and his face is smug. The smirk on his lips is nothing short of pride.

“Catching feelings for me already, Y/N?”

“In your dreams,” you bounce back.

For the first time tonight, you check your phone. It’s getting late, and although you don’t live very far away, you don’t want to be caught alone after dark. “Ah, I should probably get going.”

Keigo nods, reaching into his pocket to pull out a few thousand yen banknotes and set them on the table. You want to tell him that you have your own money to pay, but he cuts you off by getting out of the booth and speaking himself. “I’ll walk you home,” he says, and you furrow your brows as you get out, too.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna trouble you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Keigo says, offering his arm to you with a sly grin. “It’s my duty as a hero. And your boyfriend.”

He puts emphasis on the word and you can’t hide the amused smile from your lips, looping your arm through his.

The walk to your apartment is as comfortable as being in the restaurant with him, but somehow it feels nicer. You suppose it’s the open air, the golden sun having gone down past the distant mountains, leaving remnants of its light in freckles and rosy skin. The walk home seems faster, and you find yourself a little disappointed that the night is ending so soon.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to come inside,” you say, voice sultry as the two of you stop in front of your door. “Make the paparazzi think we had a little more fun in the privacy of my home?”

Keigo shrugs, and you can see him thinking about it. “I mean, if you’re okay with it…”

“Now who’s catching feelings?”

He scrunches his face up and you giggle. When you speak again, your voice is softer. Crickets chirp somewhere nearby.

“I had a good time, dating or not,” you tell him, find your key and unlocking the door. “Thanks for taking me out.”

Keigo takes your hand in his and brings your fingers up to his lips in a formal kiss (though the wink he sends you says otherwise). “Anytime, princess. See you later.”

He takes off out of your apartment building and you go inside, immediately laying down on your sofa in the living room. You feel over the spot on your hand where he kissed you, humming quietly to yourself.

Maybe this won’t be as hard as you thought.

#ADSKFKDJFL THIS SERIES IS MY BABY #I WILL NURTURE IT TO ADULTHOOD #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagine #hawks x reader #hawks bnha x reader #bnha hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami imagine #hawks imagine #x reader #reader insert #imagine #tcoy

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onyourzeus · 3 years

Text

• stress-free | kwp

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: stress-free pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you (she/her pronouns) genre: FLUFF, college!au words: 3.4k

author’s note: @pirimiritiddy requested a fic about wonpil, and here it is. it went on for longer than i previously planned, buuuuut. i hope it’s still okay aaaa

(this is the 1st time i’ve written something for wonpil so if i get his personality wrong, i do apologize. i am also a baby myday huhu)

this dot fic (bullet style) is part of the falling asleep on the bus scenario that i intend to write for each day6 member. check out the others: dowoon (currently only 2/5 completed)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

wonpil hates his schedule for this winter term

who assigns a class that is only available at seven in the evening??

3 times a week

during THE WINTER

did he mention it’s a major lecture he’s required to take??

psychology of stress, more like

this class is giving him the kind of stress it is specifically warning its students about

anyway, what can he say. he chose this major, there’s only 1 more term after this one and then finally: graduation

it’ll be fine, he’ll live

thank the heavens they didn’t need to attend the first two meetings, but some reading material was provided

and was expected by the professor to have been read and reflected upon

the class is really living up to its name because when wonpil opened the pdf

it was 30 pages of tiny font sized sentences (for ants!) about the definition of stress and how it affects every part of the body yada yada yada

wonpil tried. he really tried

that is to say he fell asleep on his desk while going over the same 20th page of the document

if it weren’t for jae shaking him awake, he’d miss his first night class

it would’ve been nice… if only the professor didn’t take attendance (something about being generous enough to make the first 2 classes “free,” so everyone has an obligation to come in for the remainder of the semester)

great, he’s stuck freezing his ass off just walking to the bus stop alone

hopefully they turn the heater all the way up in the auditorium or else

the thousands spent in tuition would have literally been for nothing

overdramatic wonpil, can you blame him

he thinks about reading the remaining 10 pages on the bus, even if he knows nothing of value will be absorbed

he wants to tries anyway, he does feel a little bit refreshed from that impromptu nap

the bus has arrived, and it’s packed as usual; a lot of the students riding the shuttle are just yet to take off in the following stops

wonpil squeezes his way inside, 30 pages of stress psychology research gripped in both hands

“excuse me, sorry,” wonpil mumbles, eyeing for a spot to sit to make him comfortable

because once all the people standing up leave, it’s usually a race for the exit

he’ll never understand college students

finally, he sees an empty seat way in the back. there was a girl on one end and two other students who seem to be ready to get off on the right side

wonpil doesn’t mind sitting next to someone, but once those 2 are gone he’ll just scoot over to give the girl on the left some privacy

she seems very much in deep sleep anyway, wonpil wonders if her stop is coming or she’s riding to go to campus?

wonpil doesn’t have time to think about other people, it causes him unnecessary stress

once sat down, his eyes focus on the last page he left off of

the words register as gibberish in his brain, and with the bus moving so much it makes it even more difficult to follow along the paragraphs

wonpil takes in a deep breath, holds it in, and sighs very heavily

his patience is usually the best out of his friends, but this class is turning more and more into the psychology of how to get you stressed tf out instead

the bus nears its next stop, and the two people on his side stand up to leave, yes he can breathe normal air

however

hold on

his shoulder feels heavy

turning his head slightly, for some reason once the bus had stopped its engine the girl’s head had flipped over to lean against wonpil’s shoulder instead

oh no oh no oh no

his shoulders suddenly freeze, as if blasted with a ray gun filled with ice

it’s heavy and he can’t move, it’s numb and this girl’s hair is splayed all over his his sweater

and she

she smells of coffee, and wonpil inhales it in

it’s not foul or anything, but it’s definitely exuding notes of espresso bean and freshly roasted coffee

it makes wonpil feel a little more awake

but he still can’t move his shoulders, and suddenly he’s panicking because the bus started moving again and even though capacity has lessened by 80%

someone decided to sit on the other end of the row he’s at

so if he even attempts to move, he’ll still be seated next to someone

wonpil grumbles, lower lip jutting forward

something shifts

and he realizes he shook his shoulders a little bit with his frustration

“ah…” he exclaims inaudibly, panicking at the possibility that he had woken her up from her nap

wonpil tenses up, shoulders stiff and eyes peering at his side to see what she’s up to

she lifts her head just a few inches off of wonpil’s shoulder, and for a moment he’s relieved that maybe she realizes what’s going on

but wonpil only hears a soft yawn coming from her, and she returns to using his very rigid shoulder as her pillow during this bus ride

let’s just say that the next thirteen minutes was more stress-inducing than wonpil wanted it to be

right when the bus reaches the final stop (main campus), wonpil exerts any and all efforts he has to shake his shoulder, up and down, enough to elicit an awake response from this stranger

the moment he feels her let up, wonpil dashes through that bus door like there’s no tomorrow

he is greeted with the coldest wind hitting his face, and his shoulder feeling numb from all the.. pillow roleplaying it did, if you will

wonpil feels bad, borderline guilty for leaving her like that— what if she’s asleep until now?? he can almost hear soft snores from her end for a minute there, too, and it took so much of wonpil to resist chuckling at it while in panic mode simultaneously

suffice to say, he was not able to read the rest of the document

in wonpil’s defense, he had encountered it first hand — how stress overcomes one’s body and mind

he forces himself to focus on what’s ahead, as boring as it sounds

he enters the lecture hall with a few minutes so spare, deciding to sit in the back

the projector screens are big and wonpil is not about to take his chances of getting called on today

luckily enough, he finds a row with visibly no other student sitting around the area

shoulder feeling more alive, he comes back to his senses as well

he takes off his outer sweater as it had become toastier inside. he still had a couple layers beneath his clothes

as the professor starts talking, wonpil finds himself yawning a few times

he doesn’t know if the video playing on screen is boring him or the girl in the bus affected his sleepiness

suddenly he remembers the smell of coffee, and how that’d sound real good right about now

he slaps both of his cheeks lightly, trying to take him back in the zone of at least writing down important notes

he’s on the fifth bullet point of his note-taking when the door behind him opens abruptly

it wasn’t loud or disrupting to the whole class, virtually no one even batted an eye

but thats because they’re far from the door

and wonpil is literally ten feet away, so when he feels the cold suddenly hit his back he had to know the source of the sudden hit in temperature

the class hadn’t been going on for less than an hour, and there have been students coming in on the other end of the auditorium

so wonpil isn’t that surprised that another student has just arrived

he caught a glimpse of her hair, but that’s about it as wonpil goes back to his tedious notes

until the very same person scoots herself in wonpil’s row

he huffs under his breath, the illusion of some privacy now shattered

with a polite (semi-forced) smile, wonpil turns to the side to greet his classmate

again, wonpil becomes frozen in spot

kind of like when you feel a magnetic pull somewhere, you follow it

and then suddenly you see it from afar, not believing your eyes if it’s actually real; if it’s actually there

in wonpil’s case, he’s one seat away from her

recognizing the flow of her hair, but more importantly

that distinct scent of coffee beans from her clothes

this time, wonpil has a clear look on her face and he’s… speechless

his polite smile has turned into a look of awe, eyes glued towards her

she senses his gaze, turns to him and quickly bows down as a polite greeting

“sorry, but has the class been going on for a while?”

she speaks

“oh, um, what— what?”

“oh,” she looks confused, but rephrases her question, “what time did the class start? i had a hard time finding this lecture hall.”

she’s talking to him, not just leaning her head on his shoulder

“seven”

was all wonpil could say

“it started at 7? cool, i’m not that late then!” she cheers, grinning shyly. wonpil watches the way she puts a strand of hair tucked beneath her ear. she’s pulling out her laptop from her bag when she notices a pair of wide eyes still on her person

“is… is this seat taken?” she asks, and wonpil hasn’t even taken in the fact that this is the same person from the bus

“yes”

tongue-tied wonpil strikes again, blinking back his own obliviousness to her question

“i mean— no, now it is, by you. you’re sitting there, um, i— feel free to sit wherever you want”

he’s scrambling for his words, flustered cheeks heating up amidst the warmth of the room

she just nods her head in understanding, and wonpil finally realizes he’s been staring at her direction for longer than he should have

“STRESS”

the professor verbalized into her mic which causes wonpil to look to the front all of a sudden

right, right. he’s at a lecture. what’s gotten him so fidgety and embarrassed and now all that he’s pretending to type on his google doc is

sdfjfjdfhshllsghgjghsh

just so he looks busy next to the girl who fell asleep on him on the bus

was there any point in preoccupying his mind with thoughts of her, and her head resting on him? no it’s stupid, wonpil knows this.

people do it all the time, by accident, due to exhaustion, they don’t mean a thing by it

but wonpil is curious, and this is going to kill him. for sure

so he peeks at her again, and like a normal, decent student that she is (compared to wonpil at this point let’s be real) her hands are busy hand writing whatever the professor was saying

meanwhile, wonpil continues to sdfjskgnglddfjs his way to a passing B in this class

even in this large, spacious lecture hall he can still take in her scent

maybe it’s a new perfume that’s up and coming, that’s why it smells so strongly on her

oh! he can ask that? hey, do you mind sharing what line of perfume you’re using? it smells really good

it sounds like a common question, right? i mean if you wear strong fragrances you’re bound to be asked a question about it

he’s about to ask, he really was so ready to ask, what was he gonna lose? his dignity?

over a simple, inquisitive question?

“and now before we go on a twenty minute break, it’s time to introduce yourself to the person sitting close to you”

...

why do college professors have to do this?

wonpil bites his lip, at this point in time he’s a senior who’s fed up with ice breakers like this. if it were any other person sitting next to him, in front of him, behind him— he would just go with his usual introduction

“hi i’m kim wonpil, studying psychology and i graduate in the spring. i’m taking this class for a major requirement”

then go about his merry way.

but with her? she and him have history

sort of, and it’s the kind of history that is recent and wonpil is unsure if she is even aware of the weird string of fate-like connection they have

or, wonpil, hear your consciousness out

it’s not a big deal, and in the scenario she doesn’t remember she fell asleep on the bus on another person

then you can just say hi like usual, and cut the string of fate there and then

(but does wonpil really want that?)

“hi”

oh crap she’s started it

wonpil braces himself for whatever outcome this interaction comes out to. he’ll let her speak, and tailor his response from there

“i’m sorry, this might be really weird but that’s your sweater, right?”

so she didn’t give her name, her major, anything substantial about herself but instead shoots wonpil a question

pointing at the sweater that’s draped on the seat in front of wonpil

wonpil doesn’t even check to look. he gulps, nods his head and squeaks, “yeah… why?”

something in her eyes flash by, almost like a glint of recognition

she puts a hand on her mouth, and wonpil can make out the faintest shade of pink blushing its way to her ears

it’s kinda cute

“did someone happen to… fall asleep on you on the bus coming to campus today?”

“... yes?”

“that was me” she buries her face even further into her hands, almost lowering down to the chair

wonpil thought she was gonna fall for some reason so he had to remedy the situation somewhat

“i.. i, um, did you have a good nap?”

great comeback

wonpil was so ready to leave the auditorium and never come back after the break

but he hears her giggle, and slowly come out of her shyness

and it’s a sweet sight, to finally see the way her cheeks look full of embarrassed laughter

as she twirls around a length of hair nervously

and taps the pen on the surface of her desk repeatedly

it was endearing, and wonpil forgets about why he was panicking in the first place

she then explains that she had work the whole day, and only had an hour to rest up before going to this 7pm class

wonpil listens intently, watching her mannerisms and the lilt in her voice when she continues to apologize for falling asleep on him without realizing it

“i’m not usually a deep sleeper, but work was exceptionally tiring today and i just needed at least a bit of shut eye” wonpil nods understandingly, almost worried about her health

“where do you work if you don’t mind me asking?”

“at the coffee shop a few blocks away from campus,” she answers, head tilting to the side “i’m still wearing my uniform for it… is it too obvious?”

wonpil didn’t even realize her black long sleeves was a cafe uniform

but it did explain her strong coffee smell

“something like that,” wonpil decided to say, curling his lips upward, feeling content and relieved at the turnout of events

for the 20 minute break, wonpil thought they’d reconcile over what transpired between them and mind their own business soon enough— even if he thinks it’s hard to do that now knowing something about her

which intrigues wonpil

and, quite frankly, he’d like to talk to her more

just so he has an excuse to watch her emotions paint her face beautifully

but there was a pause right after their short conversation

and in real Awkward Wonpil Fashion, he shows her the 30 page reading material, in all of its flimsy glory and starts asking questions about it

“so uh did you read the whole thing? i thought it was interesting up until the part that i dozed off”

and wonpil got his wish; he sees her eyes shine in surprise at his sudden attempt of an intellectual discussion

but she doesn’t deter him away

and actually, she’s read the whole damn thing. and wonpil was beyond amazed at the level of detail she explains to him about the parts he didn’t understand

he actually starts typing real notes while she was talking

this made her laugh in between her explanations, and wonpil didn’t understand what was so funny about

the fight or flight response

“it’s just. the way you’re typing this down so seriously, i’m sure the prof can explain it better”

wonpil shakes his head no, shakes it so much it hurt his temples

she laughs again, and he likes hearing that sound

“do you want to see what i’ve typed the past hour and a half of this class?’

“bet :p”

“actually nevermind” flashbacks of dsfkjsdjffdslkg ring true in wonpil’s mind as he quickly backspaces the nonsense in his notes

and the conversation continues from more psychology talks, to figuring out they’re in the same major but she’s a recent transfer student from last year

and had been juggling work and school since the start of her senior year

wonpil wonders why he hasn’t seen her in the coffee shop yet

he would have done a double take the first time meeting her there for sure

“oh you’re too kind,” she suddenly replies???

wonpil had said his thoughts out loud

without further embarrassing him, she says that she had only started working there since it’s more convenient for her; wonpil feels grateful she doesn’t dwell on the compliment any longer

alas, the break finishes and the droll of the professor’s voice reverberates throughout the room

this time, though, wonpil definitely feels more alert (awake enthusiastic) as the two of them exchange little comments about the class material

and before you know it, class is over and wonpil is an excited bunny. since they’re by the door they got to leave before everyone else

wonpil thinks it’s time to part ways… but this time they’re not fully strangers at all. they’re taking the same class, same major, they even know each other’s name.

surely this isn’t the last time, right?

“hey, wonpil…” he didn’t even realize that they have started walking towards the bus stop together

“hm?”

“i think i owe you one,” she starts, stopping her tracks to face him. eyebrows up in hesitation, wonpil waits for her to finish

“you know, for taking over your personal space for my own comfort”

“oh that? haha that’s nothing :)” honestly if wonpil can do it again he’d volunteer in a heartbeat

“no, really. let me make it up to you. coffee? on me? i make a mean cappuccino” she winks

it strikes through wonpil’s heart

no need for resuscitation.. yet

“or a matcha latte? whatever you’d like it’ll be on me”

“anything!” wonpil exclaims, suddenly realizing the offer being given to him, the excitement bubbling up inside him again. “i mean, anything you’d like to have me try. surprise me,” he corrects himself

that manages to have her grin widely, eyes twinkling in excitement similar to wonpil’s and he thinks

they can get along

they can get to know each other better this way

“would you be up to go for one now?”

“oh— oh! now?”

“yeah, that way none of us takes the risk of falling asleep back on the bus hehe”

well, he really wouldn’t mind that happening a second time

“really now, wonpil?”

andddd he exposed himself again

it’s fine, she tugs his hand slightly to lead him to the bus that has arrived and wonpil follows in a daze

it’s a little full, so they have no other choice but to stand and hold onto the railings above

“guess no falling asleep here…” she teases, and now wonpil can’t use his hands to hide his blushing face

but the feeling of her just close by

and the scent of coffee lingering in the air

in between them

just inches away from each other

it’ll do for now

#day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 au #kim wonpil scenarios #kim wonpil imagines #kim wonpil x reader #day6 fic #dot series #by:jiae

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dangerouscommiesubversive · 4 years

Note

Gai/Naomi/Juggler, B

Skipping ahead in my prompts kind of a lot because I just finished Orb last night and I’m in the mood to write for it. Contains spoilers for the end of Orb. B is for basorexia, the overwhelming desire to kiss

The thing that actually surprises Naomi, when Juggler shows up at the SSP offices several weeks after the defeat of Magata no Orochi, is not that he’s alive at all but that he’s wearing a different suit. “Gray looks good on you,” she says, cutting him off before he can offer some quip about being hard to kill. “I mean, I know it’s not as dramatic as the black, but gray and red is a good combination.”

Apparently thrown for a loop by this calm non-greeting, he stares at her for a moment before saying, “I was hoping we might have coffee.”

“At dawn?”

“I have reason to believe that the sunrise tomorrow might be well worth seeing, and while my preferred coffee spot has closed, I’ve found another one that’s very nice.”

She nods, says, “That sounds lovely, I’d like that,” and then bursts into tears and has to push her chair back to keep from crying into her keyboard.

Juggler freezes like a rabbit staring down an oncoming car and then comes around her desk and rests an awkward hand on her shoulder. “I don’t, ah. I’m not sure what to do in this situation.”

Naomi sniffles. “You should hug me now, weirdo.”

He’s an awkward hugger. It’s cute. She cries on his silk waistcoat anyway and lets him pat her nervously on the back, because maybe he deserves to be a little uncomfortable.

Once she’s done, though, she says, “Do you have anywhere to stay around here? If we’re having coffee at dawn then we’ll need to be able to find each other then.”

“I don’t sleep,” he says, reflexively, and then, “also, no.”

“You don’t--maybe you’d have spent less time trying to be a bad guy if you got some sleep once in a while. We have a space here, as long as you don’t mind it being where Gai crashed when he was here.”

An odd look crosses Juggler’s face. “No...no, that’s fine, I don’t mind. Thank you.”

She plans on going to the office and waking him up for coffee, and sets her alarm for it, but then doesn’t have to, because he shows up at her apartment just as she’s stepping out the door to go get him. “Wow, you really don’t sleep.”

He shrugs. “Not much.” Then, with a courtly bow, he offers her his arm. “Shall we?”

The sunrise is beautiful. The coffee, while not as sublime as Black Star’s, is very good. And Juggler’s much better at kissing than he is at hugging, especially when the sky is red and pink and orange and the clouds are thin and lacy and his mouth tastes like excellent coffee. Naomi has to take a moment to catch her breath when he pulls back. “Nobody’s ever kissed me like that before.”

Juggler raises an eyebrow. “Not even Gai?”

“Gai hasn’t kissed me at all yet, the slacker.” She resists the urge to pout, and then the incipient pout turns into a smile as she realizes, “So there you go, you got to be the first one.”

He does, as expected, look tremendously pleased with himself, and then says, “You’ll have to remind him of his duties the next time you see him. And give him this, from me.”

This kiss is very different from the first one, long and lingering and not sweet so much as it is full of intent. She can’t talk at all for a few minutes after, too red-faced and abruptly shy to attempt it. It feels like she’s walked in on something private, never mind that she was invited, offered it directly even.

“You’ll remember, of course?”

She’ll never call Juggler on how uncertain he sounds, but she’ll always remember it. “I promise.”

Juggler is gone two days later, to...wherever it is that he disappears off to, and it’s back to business as usual. Or rather, business as much better than usual; the SSP website’s really taken off, and she and Shin and Jetta spend a lot of time running around interviewing people and filming strange phenomena and writing articles. They’re making enough money that Naomi’s actually been able to quit a couple of her part-time jobs, which is a relief.

Gai gets back to Japan a couple of weeks after Juggler leaves. He doesn’t announce himself, of course, he’s just at the offices when they get back from a trip to a haunted bathhouse, sitting at Shin’s desk, drinking Ramune. Shin and Jetta fall all over themselves in their excitement to greet him, and then see how Naomi’s looking at him and very quickly find that they have other things to take care of.

“You’re late,” she says, “you missed Juggler by two weeks.”

He actually jumps slightly. “Juggler was here?”

“He was.” She crosses her arms over her chest, enjoying the hunted look on his face. “You’ve got some catching up to do, buddy. Also, he gave me something for you.”

“He...gave you something for me.”

“Yes. I’ll give it to you later. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

He doesn’t kiss her in a rooftop cafe at sunrise. Not that it isn’t just as romantic sitting on the couch in her tiny apartment, but it’s a very different mood otherwise. He’s hesitant about it, too, not as cool or as obviously prepared as Juggler was, both of them bursting into nervous laughter after a couple of shy first pecks, but then he reaches for her again and it’s very nice.

After about ten minutes of increasingly confident kisses traded back and forth there’s a pause, as both of them clearly try to decide whether this is going to go any further tonight, and Naomi remembers. “Right, yeah, I should give you that thing.”

Gai nods, frowning. “The...the thing Juggler gave you for me?”

“Yes, that one.”

She does her best to kiss him the way that Juggler kissed her, and from the shocked look on his face afterward she’s at least partially successful. “He asked you to give me that.”

“He was very specific about it, yes.” A beat, and then, with more mischief, “He was very pleased to know that he’d gotten to kiss me first.”

Gai rolls his eyes. “Of course he was.”

They don’t go any further that night, and that’s fine, because Naomi finds after only the briefest consideration that she’s way too nervous about the prospect of asking Gai if he wants to stay the night. Eventually he does get up to go--only back to the SSP offices to sleep there, but that’s still going. But at the door he stops and says, “If Juggler doesn’t come around before I have to leave again, please give him this for me?”

Another shocking, private kiss, filled with yearning, dizzying in how lonely it makes Naomi realize Gai‘s been, his hand on the side of her face gentle in a way that’s entirely different from how he’s gentle with her. She nods, dazed. “Sure. I’ll keep it safe for him.”

Juggler does not, of course, come back for another three weeks, by which point Gai’s long gone. He receives his message from Gai with stunned pleasure, and gives her another one to send back.

He and Gai only miss each other by three days this time, but it’s still what happens. Naomi gives Gai the kiss she’s been saving for him, and he gives her another one for Juggler.

It takes three more repeats of this before she realizes that they’re avoiding each other.

It’s not like either one of them has a cell phone, is the really frustrating thing.

So she puts a note on the website, which has been doing very well. She knows they both check it, too, and that they’ll both notice the one-line addition to the right side of the main page, under the embedded Twitter feed, that just says, I miss you. - N.

Two days later, she and Jetta get back from an interview to find Juggler staring at Gai’s open bottle of Ramune like it’s personally attacking him.

Gai, for his part, is squinting at Juggler’s chest. “Did you get a new suit?”

“Oh, good.” Naomi hangs up her jacket. “Shin, when did they both get here?”

Shin is hiding behind his latest invention, which is fair, the atmosphere is pretty tense. “Gai’s been here for exactly two hours and seventeen minutes, Cap. J-juggler just got here ten minutes ago.”

“You planned this,” Juggler says accusingly.

“Obviously I planned it. You fell for it.”

“Can I take that note down now, Cap?” Jetta, bless him, is just acting like it’s a normal day, heading to the computer with camera in hand to move his footage over. Granted, both he and Shin were in on the plan, but he was the one who thought it was funny, so it makes sense that he’d be calm about things.

“Yes, please. I’m going to be out for the rest of the afternoon.”

Shin starts to protest, looks at the frozen expressions on Gai and Juggler’s faces, and shuts up.

They follow her back to her apartment in a deeply awkward silence, and then proceed to take up more space in her minuscule living room than she would have ever thought possible. She stares at them for several minutes, tapping her foot, and is about to start getting impatient when Gai, finally, says, “Was there. Ah. Something you wanted to talk to us both about?”

“Yes,” she says, with vehemence. “I am an independent woman and I would like my own kisses, please, if you two want to kiss each other then you ought to stop avoiding each other and do it yourselves instead of making me your go-between.” At Gai’s protesting noise, “Look, I don’t entirely mind, they’re extremely nice kisses! But you’re, what, a few hundred years old?”

Juggler coughs. “Thousand.”

“Ok! You’re a few thousand years old! And I know, I know you’ve spent a bunch of that time not talking about your problems, but I’m fairly sure you can behave like adults! You don’t need a, a kissing proxy!”

Neither one of them answer. Gai scratches the back of his head, and then actually shuffles his feet like a child who’s been scolded. Juggler is staring fixedly at her one little bookcase with its painstakingly curated collection of books about aliens and supernatural phenomena. She’d think he was mad, except that he’s blushing, which is very charming of him.

She gives them a moment to feel awkward in silence and then says, “Look, I’m going to, to go to the bathroom and then when I’m out we’ll order dinner from somewhere and you two have to talk to each other.”

She spends longer in the bathroom than she’d really like, because as she washes her hands she finds that she’s shaking. Obviously this whole thing makes her nervous, obviously it’s all strange and new, obviously her first serious relationship would be with two thousand-year-old aliens, and also she’s planning on finally asking if one or both of them wants to stay the night. It’s a lot! She’s taking a lot of steps, very quickly, and they’re going to get easier if Juggler and Gai will just talk like normal people instead of...thousand-year-old aliens with a longstanding feud. Which is what they actually are. And that’s, you know, hot, but maybe it’s also intimidating right now.

Also she can’t decide what to order for dinner.

Finally she stops staring at herself in the mirror and straining to understand the occasional murmurs she can hear through the door, takes a deep breath, and leaves the bathroom. “So I’m not sure what to get, would you two like--oh.” And then, “Well, finally.”

Because they aren’t answering her, they’re probably not thinking about what to order for dinner right now, Juggler’s got his back to the wall next to the bookcase and his hand in Gai’s hair and there’s a kiss happening that’s definitely a culmination of all these kisses they’ve been sending each other through her, or at the very least a continuation of them. Most people wouldn’t be able to see it, the hundreds of years of pent-up longing and regret and desire, but then most people aren’t her. Most people haven’t been couriering it back and forth for months now.

It’s almost heartbreaking to see.

It’s also quite possibly the hottest thing Naomi’s ever seen in her--admittedly, comparatively short--life. She’s not sure she can remember how to breathe.

When she does finally start breathing again, she says, “I think when you’re both done I’ll order us a pizza.”

#yumeno naomi #kurenai gai #jugglus juggler #fanfiction #askrikkaiandhyotei #smooth by santana and rob thomas came up on shuffle as i was finishing this #which felt like a good omen for them #huge win for the ot3

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sarah-bae-maas · 4 years

Text

Rowaelin AU! chapter three

AU! where the valg wars never happened, but Rowan and Aelin still stumble upon each other anyway

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Ao3 Masterlist

***

“I’m going to murder him.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’ll wait until training is over; he’ll be at his most exhausted and he’ll never see it coming.”

“He will see it coming. Not that it matters, we don’t murder our friends.”

“Elide! He is not my friend!”

“He’s mine, I actually quite like him.”

“That’s because he hasn’t been kicking your ass every day for the last week.”

“Well get good enough that you can kick his ass back, problem solved.”

____

Lorcan hadn’t explored much of the castle. He mostly kept to himself, a habit long engrained in him since childhood. Besides, he didn’t really feel like interacting with pointy nosed courtesans and their offspring. He walked around at night, but mostly to wayward taverns with wayward women, Rowan sulking at his side. The male was as annoying as ever, if not more so. Aelin always left him in a grump, and it was near insufferable. Oh no! How hard it must be on the poor baby to want one of the most powerful women to ever have lived! And for her to lust after him so badly any fae with have a brain cell could smell it! They were lucky Gavriel wasn’t here, or he’d have Rowan removed from court.

And where Rowan went, unfortunately Lorcan followed.

Lorcan took a rare moment to himself in the library. It was late at night, the clicking of cicadas a lullaby as he listened to them from the window. He had been eavesdropping on the princess and Gavriel’s son, but they were woefully boring. He had decided to stay once they left, kicking off his shoes and settling in next to a window so high and grand that all of Orynth was on display – much like the palaces you’d find in Doranelle. He didn’t want to read, he just wanted a break.

He was tired. So, so tired.

The sound of light footsteps interrupted him, and he stood up, readying himself to dodge them if need be. His ears pricked, and he walked until he could follow the sound, and the person, as they walked between aisles. He was as quiet as a shadow and peeked in the gap in the shelves to spy on his intruder.

It was a fair woman, probably in her mid-twenties, dark hair tied up messily on her head. She was wearing a red silk robe, half undone as she flurried through the shelves, a navy nightgown peeking through. He had on fur slippers, and she was scanning the shelves and picking up indiscernible titles. Lorcan had never seen her before, but she matched the description Rowan gave for the princess’s closet friend – Elide. This mightn’t be her, but it sure seemed like it.

Lorcan did know one thing as he watched her.

His heart, the moment he set eyes on her, started to beat erratically, and his soul begged to be near her. It was if a God had picked the string of his essence, and wrapped it around this woman, tying him to her. It was a feeling he’d never had before, and wouldn’t ever have again.

Lorcan knew that this woman, whoever she was, was his mate.

___

Elide balked at the man in front of her, stunned by his proposition. There she had been, minding her own damn business, when out of nowhere some sentry had begged her to take him to bed with her. She was sure he meant to be seductive, but she was a bloody lady and would be treated as such.

She shooed him and his hair that was way too blonde away, watching him flee into the morning sun as she continued her walk to the market. Usually she did this every morning with Aelin, but her friend had been too preoccupied lately to come. Elide wasn’t mad, she understood that Aelin’s training was the priority, she was just lonely. She had Ren and Aedion, but both were so busy that she barely saw them either. She just had be content on her lonesome.

She wove through the streets until she made it to the market, where she started moseying along. Baffled by the interaction with the sentry, she let herself be distracted by things she wouldn’t normally be. The flowers particularly caught her eye, but she had to regrettably leave them where they were. She had little personal funds, using most of her money to travel the continent, and she had to live frugally if she were to see as much of this world as she wanted to. All she bought were the small list of items given to her by various palace stuff – herbs, fresh bread, candles, and so on. Nothing for herself, not even the lovely orchids she wanted.

The market smelt like sugar and fresh bread, loose stones jutting into her feet even with her shoes on. She felt odd the more she walked; the back of her neck tingled, and she found herself reaching for it to see if a bug was trying to make a home there. There was nothing, and when she turned all she saw were people milling around as she was. Maybe she was getting sick, she did have a restless night’s sleep – not even her walk to the library and enthusiastic browsing was enough to wear her out. There was something in her blood though that sang, a message saying no physical ailment was what was making her feel this way.

She quickened her pace, but the feeling didn’t subside. Deciding she could forego the rest of her items until she had company, she decided to walk in the direction of the castle. She went a round-about way, suddenly paranoid that she was being followed. But that was ludicrous, surely.

She was in such a rush, that she slammed her basket into a building as she rounded its corner. Saying a word that would make her mother balk, she leant down to pick everything up when a hand joined hers. Her body jolted and she flinched back, looking into dark eyes that were level with her own.

It was a man; his hair, brown and shoulder length, was tucked behind gently curved ears. His face showed the hint of scars, but all were faded with time. His hand, which has just grazed her own, was somehow both rough and incredibly soft. He was dressed in rich silks, and if Elide was to guess, she’d say he wasn’t from Terrasen.

“You dropped this,” he said, gently placing her items into her basket.

“Um, yes, I did.” She noted his beauty, thinking that he couldn’t possibly be real. Maybe she’d also bumped her head and was hallucinating.

“Are you alright? You look dazed, my lady.”

My lady. Be still her beating heart.

“I’m fine, just-” she looked around her, there were a few vendors that had seen her tumble and were snickering, but otherwise no sign of anything nefarious. “Just frazzled.”

“Ah, well we can’t have a frazzled woman exerting herself.” He picked up the basket for her and offered his arm to help her stand. She squeaked as realised his height. He towered over her, his figure not looming but instead like a sea wall – sturdy in an age of constant thrashing.

She gladly took his arm, thrilled by the new turn of events.

“May I escort you somewhere?”

She swallowed, trying not to seem to eager or to burst out you may escort me to your bedroom please and thank you. “The castle, if you’d like. And my name is Elide. Elide Lochan. Elide Lochan of Perranth.”

He tilted his head, his lips hinting at a smile. “I’m actually staying there myself, Elide Lochan of Perranth, what are the chances that we’ve never met?”

She clicked her tongue. “You are? Why?”

“Yes, I’m the, uh, advisor to Prince Rowan Whitethorn.”

“Oh, you must be Lorcan! I’m Aelin’s handmaiden, I can’t believe we’ve never ran into each other.” Elide tightened her hands around his forearm as he guided them to the castle, her heavy basket being effortlessly held in his other. When Aelin had described Lorcan, she had envisioned a brute of man. Rather, she had never seen one so courteous in her life. “Advising Rowan, what does that entail?” she asked, curious as to how she hadn’t seen him at dinner or with Rowan when she’d accompanied Aelin to her training.

“Rowan’s life can be fraught in his profession; my job is to help wade him through any rough waters he might encounter. I’ve been doing it for decades.”

“Did you meet as children?”

“No,” he said, his voice making her spine shiver. “I’m a couple hundred years older than Rowan. We met when he was about forty.”

If Rowan was around the three hundred Aelin claimed him to be, that would make Lorcan, what? Five hundred?

A fae of that age…

Would have lots of experience, know exactly where everything with the female body was.

“Are you also royal?”

Lorcan looked down at her, his head casting a shadow over her face. “I – Yes, I am.”

“Is that how you met Rowan, you ran in the same circles?”

Lorcan paused, looking tentative. “Yes, of course I did. My mother was… my mother was Rowan’s tutor. She was a prestigious scholar.”

Elide noticed his change in tense. “Was?”

“She faded with my father. She was nearly a thousand years old and had me towards the end of her life.”

Elide tilted her head. “But if Rowan is two hundred years younger than you, and she had you at the end of her life, how could she have been his tutor?”

Lorcan coughed. “Well… when you’re fae with such a long life, the last two hundred really is the end. Like a human in their eighties.”

Elide conceded, that made sense.

They chatted idly as they walked, Elide hanging onto his every word as he escorted her back to her chambers. They drew eyes as they walked through the halls of the castle, but Elide barely spared them a thought as she engaged with Lorcan. His well-spoken-ness impressed her as much as his biceps, and she found herself doing what she did whenever a nice, attractive male made eye contact with her.

She made very inappropriate and convoluted fantasies up about them in her mind.

He walked with her throughout the castle, the pricky feeling from the market fully disappeared. She dropped off all the items she had bought, and somehow managed to not jump Lorcan’s bones. They only stopped as the bells rang noon, and Lorcan regretfully had to excuse himself to join Rowan.

“I wish I could stay longer, but Rowan is testy at the best of times.” He glanced away anxiously, biting his lip.

Oh Gods, she also wanted to bite his lip.

“That’s fine, I’m sure I can manage the rest of the day without you.” Her faux confidence was spurred by trying to give him the impression that she was a strong, independent woman. Which she was, she just needed him to definitely know that.

He bowed to her slightly, his smile returning. “Until I see you again, Lady Elide.”

He turned and walked away. He was nearly out of hearing distance when Elide yelled, “I leave for the market at eight!” She had no idea if he’d even garner that she was inviting him to join her, but either way, she knew she’d see him again.

#rowaelin #elorcan #throne of glass #tog #koa #kingdom of ash #fanfic #sjm

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avinrydarchive · 4 years

Text

hallow’s eve, saint’s day

Author: AvinRyd Fandom: The Bartimaeus Sequence Rating: G Pairing: Gen Word Count: ~8500 words

When in Prague...

Some lighthearted spooky shenanigans for you this October.

Written for the Bartimaeus Fic Exchange 2020. Check out the collection on AO3 to see everyone else’s awesome fics!

Read on AO3

Chapter 1: Somewhere: Sometime

22,643

“...”

“Hello, glad to see you’re awake.”

“Um, hello. Where am I? How long was I...asleep?”

“Well, twenty-two thousand, six hundred and forty three spirits have passed by since you arrived, so I’d assume about five days on the mortal plane? Hard to say exactly, but I’ve had a while to put a model together. “As to where you are? Stuck.”

“Stuck?”

“Stuck. I have many theories as to where and how, but the fact is that we’re stuck here between the two dimensions known to my people—and yours, I’m assuming, since you came from the same direction I did.”

“Oh…

“You said you’ve been here for a while? Is it permanent, then? This being stuck?”

“In theory? No. I believe it’s possible for us to leave, should the right situation arise. However, in practice? I’ve yet to see a situation that would afford an exit so...it might be permanent, yes.”

“...”

“How long have you been here?”

“I lost count a few centuries ago.”

1,962,573

“Hey, the gates haven’t done that before.”

“Oh, that usually means someone on the mortal plane came up with something interesting. What… Oh. That’s very interesting. I wonder…”

“What? No. No, stop—whatever you’re ‘wondering’ it’s a bad idea.”

“Hmmm, doubtful.”

4,747,821

“...”

“Finally! That was way too long, don’t do it again.”

“How long?”

“Thirty thousand, six hundred and fifty seven. I didn’t think you were going to form back up that time.”

“I was so close though. It closed just a fraction of a second too soon. Next time—”

“Next time?! Did you hear how long I said you were gone? You’re going to get yourself dispelled at this rate, and there’s no guarantee it’ll work!”

“It will.”

“Oh, so when I say stuff like that, it’s arrogant, but when you do it’s just fact?”

“It’s not arrogance when my previous hypotheses have all been correct. It’s based off the same knowledge, there’s every chance I’m right. I know I’m right. I—

“Wait, there’s another one.”

“Ah, no. Hold on—”

“I’m going to do it. This time for sure.”

“Wait! What if it doesn’t work? What if it does? Will you— That is, I’ll be…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll work out the method, then come back for you. I promise, my friend.”

“Friends? Is that what we are? I—wait, no!”

“...”

“I didn’t even ask his name…”

Chapter 2: Prague: Hallow's Eve

“—so there’s no need to worry about it. Piper and Harold can badger me all they want, send all the nastily worded imp messages they like—it’s not like I’ll run out of 'fuck,no's. I’ve got an unlimited supply.” Kitty sighed and shifted, trying to ease the ache in her back without smudging chalk lines. Sitting on the hardwood floor was murder on her over-taxed body, sending sharp spikes of discomfort up the curve of her spine and into her creaking hip joints, but this circle was so fragile she didn’t dare risk throwing a chair into the mix. The ringing at the base of her skull wasn’t terribly comfortable either, but it was a side effect of this spell they’d been unable to mitigate. Over the slight resonance, Bartimaeus’s voice replied, “Alright, alright. And since you’ve left Bruges they’ll probably have a time finding you for a while, at least. How’s Prague?” “Beautiful. Old. Rainy. A bit spooky, but I suppose that’s to be expected.” The laugh ringing through their connection wasn’t just one voice, but many. That was the interesting thing about this; she was speaking to Bartimaeus, but he was only separated from the Other Place just enough to exist as “Bartimaeus”—the rest of the Other Place was nearly an equal part of their conversation, which had taken some getting used to. “See, that’s the appropriate response. Certain modern magicians I’ve known—particularly young, bratty, British ones—have no appreciation for the old magic that city is steeped in. And speaking of magical detritus from a thousand failed spells, you did bring your instruments with you when you left Belgium, right? This is the longest we’ve ever had the portal open, and—” Kitty sighed again, much put-upon. “Yes, Bartimaeus. I have them and they’re set up and everything is stable. There was a tiny spike a few minutes ago, but everything is normal otherwise. I left Bruges to get away from the hovering protective people, you know. Please don’t you start being one now.” Bartimaeus scoffed, but the humming presence behind him was at least half on Kitty’s side, she was sure. “Fine, far be it from me to care about silly humans doing insane experimental magic with minimal education. I place full faith in your absolute knowledge and will immediately cease worrying that the portal will explode in your face and leave a Kitty-sized crater in one of the oldest standing magical cities of the mortal realm. I wash my metaphorical hands of it.” It was Kitty’s turn to laugh, bright and clear in a way it’d taken years for her to get to. “You do that. Anything in particular I should know about the city: places I should go, things to avoid?” “Eh, just keep your wits.” Kitty got a strong, almost visual impression that, had Bartimaeus been in a material form, he’d be looking on with an unimpressed twist to his mouth. This was such a weird spell. “If you’ve got that aura-viewing skill on tap still, keep a sharp eye out. Avoid any bridges without auras—they’re most likely falling apart internally. And costumed men with ‘distinctive’ candles!” “O-o-okay? That’s highly specific, should I be concerned?” The suggestion of a shrug and his words came through crackled with interference. “Not really, he was just a bit creepy by human standards, and that candle… Not a thing for polite company. Thought you’d prefer to steer clear of anyone similar. Don’t go to graveyards tonight, either.” The ringing at the back of Kitty’s mind was escalating to a high whine and she reached up to massage the base of her skull. One of the glass phials outside the circle, sealed and full of swirling gas, was starting to pulse with a faint glow. “Alright Bartimaeus, we’ve got to stop. The spell’s starting to break up. I’ll try again after I’ve spoken with the print master, okay?” “Good, this was probably too much strain on you anyway. Have fun bullying old men into changing books!” The djinni’s voice sounded further away than before, and before Kitty could reply, the connection snapped off. There was a sharp pop and a flash of sparks in the air above her as the spell collapsed—another issue to work on. She’d love to reach out to Button for ideas on a fix, but that would invite more pleas to return to London and Kitty was so, so tired of those. Government was not for her, not even a little bit. Even her drive for activism had waned, though she suspected it was simply burnout—and as Bartimaeus and Jakob and everyone else had said, this was some well deserved burnout indeed. Standing up was a process for Kitty these days: gingerly uncross legs; wait for the shriek of pain to stop; get knees under herself with careful movements; press up using stiff wrists to stand with popping knees; roll slowly upright, feeling every sore vertebrate slot into place. Painkillers. She had a couple left from the drugstore in Burges, right? She hoped so. She was far too tired to be exploring the city for a drugstore—or an apothecary? Who knew what this place had. Her travel bag lay on the bed, flap sagging open to reveal her essentials. The white plastic of a drugstore bottle peeked out from under the sweater Mrs. Hyrnek had made for her, and she’d just reached for it when— “Did you know that, when a djinni is dismissed, the gates between our world and the Other Place are open for precisely eight-point-five-two seconds?” Kitty whipped around. The room was empty; the disembodied—familiar?—voice already just an echo bouncing off the window panes. Light from streetlamps flickered strangely through wavy glass and water droplets. Somewhere, thunder rolled. “Second—” There it was again, but there was nothing to see, no matter how hard Kitty looked. “—and you must know some of this, having visited the Other Place yourself—but did you know that a human soul is, pardon the pun, in essence the same composition as any spirit? Though with a deep affinity for the earth element that other spirits abhor. And that, if sufficiently stimulated and accustomed to the act, a soul can exit the body—voluntarily or not—and bridge the worlds; even following another spirit on its way away from our earthly plane?” The voice was familiar, and yet...not. Kitty could swear she’d never heard this person speak—a boy with an absolutely unfamiliar accent. And yet? And yet, in her mind she heard an echo… What do you presume…? “And thirdly: did you know that your absolutely ingenious bit of spellwork holds the Elemental Gates open longer and with more stability than any spell used in the last two thousand years? And that, if a spirit were somehow stuck in a crevice of those gates, your spell provides an opportunity for escape not given in those same two thousand years?" The voice came from behind her now, and this time Kitty turned slowly—mindful of the crick in her neck her last turn had caused, and also not near as fearful. She knew now that there was nothing to fear from this voice. On her bed—or rather, floating slightly above it—sat a teenage boy, visible at last. Yellow lamp light and the watery orange glow of the street lights did not bring up warm highlights on his dark skin as they should have. He was nearly transparent and so washed out the ends of his curly hair faded out of sight. Seemingly unbothered by this, he grinned up at her, flush with the satisfaction of solving a millenia-old conundrum and shining with an emotion Kitty suspected might be gratitude. Cautiously, she returned the smile and—in a very steady voice, thank you very much—quipped, "Ptolemy. Are you aware you're floating three inches above the bedspread?"

Chapter 3: Prague: Hallow's Eve

“Ptolemy. Are you aware you’re floating three inches above the bedspread?” Ptolemy’s face twisted. “Am I? Irritating. Rekyt made this material form business look so much easier than it is.” “Well,” Kitty said reasonably, moving to sit on the bed as well, “he has had quite a bit more time to practice. And human souls aren’t terribly used to having to keep themselves in a form, are they?” Brows drawn in concentration, Ptolemy drifted downwards about an inch and muttered a distracted, “I suppose so,” before managing to drop the remaining space. Now he was flush with the worn bed quilt, but didn’t make so much as a wrinkle in the fabric. Kitty watched in fascination as, with experimental movements, Ptolemy brought his hand to the bedspread, then pushed it into the bedspread, then waved it in and out a few times. In a sudden flash of mischievous inspiration, she grabbed the drugstore bottle she’d reached for earlier and turned to Ptolemy, lobbing the rattling object with a quip of “Catch!” The boy’s reflexes were not quick—even in the best of circumstances he would have ended up bonked in the nose—but it didn’t matter. The bottle phased through his fingertips, then through his face and chest to land with a clatter on the pillows behind him. Kitty met his unamused stare with a grin, absolutely unrepentant. “Had to check. Scientific method and all that.” Still looking a bit miffed, Ptolemy pulled his foot up to “rest” on the bed and wrapped his arms around the bent-up knee. “If you hadn’t built that spell, I’d be tempted to say you’re the least scientific person I’ve ever known.” Kitty rolled her eyes and leaned back to reach around Ptolemy for the bottle she’d thrown—her joints really did ache after that long conversation’s worth of sitting on the floor. Pulling herself back upright after the extension wasn’t exactly painless either, but she was very sure it would be rude to reach through her visitor to grab something, especially since she’d been the one to throw it through him in the first place. Deftly, she twisted open the puzzle cap and tapped two tablets into her hand before closing it and trading it for a waterbottle in her travel bag. When she’d done, she met Ptolemy’s interested stare with grin. “You’ve only just met me, but you are pretty close to the truth. I didn’t do much with the technicalities of inventing that spell. It was my idea, and I know how it works and how to monitor it, of course, but the construction was a collaboration between Bartimaeus and two magicians I know back in London. They did most of the actual science.” The water tasted strongly of mineral and metal, filled at the last petrol station her bus had stopped at, but it wasn’t awful and got the job done. The moment also gave her time to consider how the hell to move on from here. There was a boy dead more than two thousand years sitting in her boarding room, and she had no idea how he’d gotten there. He seemed to have minimal purpose other than just...arriving—not indicating he had any message or any particular reason for not being able to move on. If his opening remarks were to be believed, he was back on the mortal plane because of a magical glitch in the system. He’d gotten sucked away before death had fully taken hold. Her musings were interrupted by Ptolemy moving, reaching to pull a book from her bag, then huffing when his fingers slipped right through the corner. “This is not going to work,” he muttered, focus completely on the stubbornly stationary book. He made two more swipes at it before giving up that approach and staring intently at it instead. Nothing happened and he flopped back dramatically to stare at the ceiling, hair falling right through the bed. “This is not at all workable. Kitty, I think I need your help.” “I don’t know why. You seemed to be doing quite well on your own.” “Are you always like this?” Kitty snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “Pretty much. Why do you think Bartimaeus likes me so much?” A moment of contemplation, then: “That does make an unfortunate amount of sense. Still, I really would appreciate a moment of sincerity, this is a matter of utmost importance.” “Utmost importance, huh?” Kitty laid back on the bed with a groan. “What’s that, then?” Ptolemy’s face was solemn as he looked over at her. “There’s someone else who’s stuck, and I promised I’d get them out.” “They can’t just...fall through? Same as you did?” Ptolemy snorted a laugh, serious moment broken. “They could, but they won’t. Too unsure of the results. If we’d had physical forms, I’m pretty sure they would have tackled me to keep me from doing something this reckless.” A day’s hard travel and spellwork dragged Kitty’s eyelids down—an inexorable pull. She hummed in exhausted consideration, then said through a yawn, “I don’t suppose a normal summoning would do the trick, would it?” Her jaw cracked mid-yawn, nearly drowning Ptolemy’s reply of, “Probably not…” Then, “I sense we may need to continue this conversation in the morning?” “Mmhm…” She’d given up the fight to keep her eyes open. “Well then.” His laugh was softer, almost fond. “Until the morning, Kitty.” She tugged her feed up onto the bed and shifted a bit, trying to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy mattress. “G’night, Ptolemy.” Kitty’s last thought before slumber was a deep confusion as to if this was not all just some elaborate dream, caused by magical backlash-induced unconsciousness. Quietly, she hoped not.

Chapter 4: Prague: Saint's Day

Early morning sunlight cutting across her eyes pulled Kitty to consciousness. She’d forgotten to close the curtain before going to bed. Odd. She was usually quite conscientious about that—woe betide wherever woke her up too early, up to and including the sun itself. Still, last night had been quite strange, hadn’t it? Her fuzzy brain struggled to remember. Movement in the room drew her gaze. A boy, crouched next to the circle she’d forgotten to clean up. Habit moved her mouth before her brain caught up; she mumbled, “Bartimaeus, we don’t do magic science early in the morning, remember?” His face turned, familiar in shape but not in expression, and everything clicked back into place. Ptolemy looked rather bemused. “Does Rekyt take my form often? Or are you just so unused to any company other than his?” Oh. Right. “...both.” Kitty scrubbed at her eyes and pushed messy bedhead from her face as she sat up, the last night’s events reordering themselves in her mind. Two thousand years’ death seemed to have little effect on the boy sitting on the dusty floor of her sleepy, second-floor boarding room in the middle of Prague. He looked at her expectantly, fingers sketching circles on the floor and making no trace in the scuffed dust. With a groan, she flopped back onto the bed. Ptolemy’s intent gaze was still trained on her, she could feel it, but her too-tired brain wasn’t up to meeting it and thinking through the morning’s problems at the same time. She stared at the cracked plaster ceiling for long moments before sighing heavily. “Alright then. We’ve got your business of ‘utmost importance’ to get to, right?” An affirmative sound, so she continued. “Well, I’ve got some business of importance to get to today as well. You’ve obviously been awake, thinking about this. What do you want to do?” A glance over at Ptolemy proved Kitty’s suspicions—the boy was practically shaking with the effort of not simply spilling all the plans he’d made overnight. Ghosts, apparently, didn’t sleep. She quirked an eyebrow and he immediately began: “We need to summon Rekyt. You said he helped design this circle, and I want to use it as the basis for mine, but I don’t understand a good third of how it’s build. Magic has moved on and—oh, but Kitty this is fascinating, I never could have dreamed—” He stopped, catching Kitty’s second raised eyebrow and pulling himself back on track. “Right. Between us and Rekyt and some intensive research, I think I can put together a spell that will do the trick. So. First: Rekyt; second: library.” Pushing upright once more, Kitty shook her head. “Other way around. Library first, Bartimaeus second.” She continued ahead before he could interrupt. “A summoning, a real one like that? That isn’t a small undertaking for me. I’ll be knackered for the rest of the day afterwards so—unless you figured out how to conduct an entire summoning while insubstantial last night?—we’ll go to the library and printers’ first, then come back with your research and summon Bartimaeus. Agreed?” Ptolemy studied her closely, quietly, and she felt a blush threatening to flood her cheeks. Ridiculous, really. He’d barely been able to stand after his trip to the Other Place; she had no business being embarrassed by her trip’s cost of physical stamina in front of him. A long, long staredown later, he nodded. “Agreed.” Good. She stretched and swung her legs off the bed to stand at last. There was a washroom just down the hall, communal for the boarders but Kitty was the only guest at present. She was glad of it—sharing washing up space with strangers was not something she wanted on top of everything else. After digging out her toothbrush, she turned to Ptolemy. “Stay here. We don’t know if anyone can see you yet. I’ll be back in a second.” Ptolemy looked just the slightest bit abashed. “Actually, I do know. A little after midnight I may have...taken a stroll? No one else can see me, or hear me.” “Oh. Well then. That’s good to know. I’ll...still be back in a second.” And she stepped briskly into the hall.

***

Ten minutes later—longer than her usual habit but hell if she didn’t need a good five minutes of overwhelmed solitude—Kitty returned to her room to find Ptolemy floating cross-legged a foot off the bedspread, exactly level with the windowsill so he could look out. At the creak of the door, he didn’t turn so much as roll backwards, ending upside down with curls falling to and fading through the bed. Inane as it was, she couldn’t help but grin. Bartimaeus held such a reverence for the memory of his old friend; Kitty wondered if that was the source of his gravitas in the guise, or if the new freedom of insubstantial spirithood was breathing new mischief into an otherwise solemn boy. The grin stayed as she moved to pack up her travel sack once more. She saw the grey chill outside the window around Ptolemy’s inverted form and tugged her jumper from the side of the bag where it’d gotten jammed. It was grey-blue wool and knitted by Jakob’s mother—a gift. She saw Ptolemy’s eyes catch on the textured fabric as she finished tugging it on and offered her arm. “Have you figured out how to touch things yet?” He shook his head but reached out anyway. As expected, his fingers swiped right through it. Less expected was the world-wringing sensation of his fingertips passing through her wrist. Early on in their experiments with the communication spell, Kitty had directly touched their “spectral conduit” to the Other Place, as Mr. Button had called it. Before Bartimaeus had snatched her back, she’d felt her self, her essence, tenuously bound to her body at the best of times, begin to be siphoned out and up and away. It felt like that, except in reverse. Connection was made and into the vacuum of her not-quite-full body flowed another gust of person. She felt him for a moment, entranced and inexorably drawn to the lure of earthen control once again before she was able to batten down all hatches and shove the presence away. With a jerk, Kitty yanked her arm back. She could feel her eyes popped wide in panic as she stared at Ptolemy, who was also wide-eyed but in fascinated joy. “Kitty,” he breathed, wonder under his words, “Kitty, let me try that again. That. It was… I could have— we could have—” “No!” Her voice was too loud in the quiet room and Ptolemy flinched. “What? Why? I just want to try it. If we were a bit more careful, I might be able to—” “You might be able to do quite a lot! And you won’t be trying, thank you very much.” His brows furrowed in consternation. “Alright, then. I can try it with someone else, I suppose. I wonder if you need their true name to—” “No, Ptolemy.” She didn’t yell that time—her voice was as flat and cold as London pavement. She cut off Ptolemy’s next attempt at speech with a harsh, chopping motion of her hand. “No. That is an invasion of self no commoner can even attempt to consent to, even if you did ask, which it sounds like you weren’t going to do.” Hideous silhouettes danced behind her eyes, though she tried to push them back. Glowing, demonic eyes in the faces of helpless puppets that haunted her nightmares. Breathe. She just had to breathe through it, just like she did all the other times. Through sheer force of will, her heart rate slowed down to something resembling healthy and she was able to bring her vision back into focus. Ptolemy was staring at her—very human, but also not quite. She forced down a shudder. “Come on. We’re going to the library. I’ll explain why you can never, ever do that, but I’ve only got it in me to do it once, so you’ll have to hear it along with the master printer.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just turned, snatched up her satchel, and headed out the door, closing and locking it behind her. Ptolemy was a ghost, he’d be able to follow just fine. He did. She couldn’t hear him coming behind her, but she now had a disturbingly unerring sense of his location that she hadn’t possessed a moment ago. Possessed. With a shudder, she rubbed the skin of her wrist under the jumper, trying to scrub off the sensation even as she mentally tracked Ptolemy’s progress behind her back. They went in silence like that—Kitty walking at a brisk pace with Ptolemy trailing behind—for nearly ten minutes of winding through dreary streets. Kitty had a map, and directions from the proprietor of the boarding house, which she trusted more. Concentrating on the confusing tangle of twists and turns busied her nervous mind into calm—calm enough that when Ptolemy cleared his throat, her quiet “hmm?” was genuinely amicable once more. “Where is this?” His voice was soft, awed. “I know I’ve...been gone a while, but I’m fairly sure this not Alexandria.” Kitty snorted and replied, “Prague,” before snapping her mouth shut. The street wasn’t busy by any means, but there were still people about who might look sideways at the out-of-place British girl talking to thin air. Quickly, she stepped from the sidewalk to stand under the awning of a cafe. The map made crisp sounds as she unfolded it and brought it up to her face, hiding the movement of her lips as she whispered, “We’re north of Alexandria, by a lot. Across the sea, past Rome, up where we call Eastern Europe, now. I’ll find you a map when we get to the library, yeah? For now, I can’t be talking to myself all the way across the district.” “Right.” He agreed with a quick nod, already distracted by the pastries displayed in the cafe window. Rolling her eyes, Kitty folded the map once more and headed off. The grey above threatened more rain and she quickened her pace. It wasn’t a short walk to the Holy Roman Archive and she’d rather not have to make the last third of the trek getting dripped on. Ptolemy was at her side now, gasping and exclaiming every other second at some new thing he’d glimpsed, and she had to actively suppress a wide smile. Grinning inanely at nothing wasn’t a look she wanted to project either. As they began to emerge from Old Town’s winding alleys, though, the city’s mood began to pick up and match Ptolemy’s joy. They stepped onto the larger, more toured streets around the great Charles Bridge, where tourists and business people alike made their way on foot regardless of the weather. Ahead, the bridge’s towers loomed and, just off to the left, Kitty saw the large buildings of the Klementinum. She made straight for it. The tourist traffic was, thankfully, a bit dimmed by the unpleasant weather and it was only another few minutes walk through ornate, baroque halls and courtyards blanketed in autumn-hued ivy before they reached the Holy Roman Archive. Home of what was left of Prague’s magical lore, it was also adjacent to the most influential of the Czech Publishing Guild’s members: Petřín Printers. They handled all of the magical texts to come out of Prague; all of the magical knowledge of Eastern Europe flowed through this print house and into the Archive. Kitty stepped past the enticing hush of the Archive, hoping Ptolemy would follow since she couldn’t physically drag him like she was afraid might be necessary. A glance to the side showed the boy’s feet were indeed dragging, eyes gazing with longing at the doors. “Soon. We’ll go there next.” He followed with an insubstantial sigh. “Yes, alright.” Kitty blinked. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud. It was so quiet in these halls, anyone could hear. The lobby of Petřín’s was unassumingly quiet, but Kitty wasn’t fooled. The walls hummed with the aura of a spell, most likely a silencing charm to keep the workings of the printers from disturbing the immediately nearby library. At a desk just inside, a man sat scribbling in a ledger with a fountain pen but he looked up at Kitty’s approach. His cheerful greeting was in Czech—thankfully one of the phrases she’d picked up staying with Jakob and his family. She replied in kind, following up with a somewhat abashed, “English? That was about all the Czech I know.” The man laughed and nodded. “How can I help you?” “I need to speak with Mr. Pavel Vlastislav? I’m here on rather urgent magician’s business, as well as with a delivery from Karel Hyrnek, of Hyrnek and Sons. I think he sent word ahead that I was coming?” “Hmmm, let me take a look.” The clerk flipped through his ledger, then ducked behind his desk to grab another book. As he did, Kitty looked around and saw Ptolemy studying a world map to the left, artistically rendered and nearly as large as the wall it was painted on. She couldn’t see his face, but she had an idea as to what it might look like, and what he was going to sound like in three…two...one… Right on cue, as the clerk popped back up into view, Ptolemy’s voice flooded into her ear as if he were standing right next to her and not ten feet away. “Kitty. Kitty this is— Is this the whole world? The entire globe? Have people truly been to all of these places?” The clerk was chatting at her as he flipped through his notes with Kitty nodding along distractedly, trying to pay attention as Ptolemy continued, “—and this map! It’s nearly as good as the cartographers of Alexandria’s work! Rekyt described many of these places to me, but they were not all in places I could plot on an available map… You said we’re in...Europe? To the east—oh! Yes, this must be it! You’re right, we are much, much further north. I wonder—” “Ptolemy! A minute? I need to focus,” was what Kitty thought to herself in a moment of irritation, mouth clamped tight over the words, but the boy stopped rambling immediately. “Ah, my apologies.” Well, that was fun. Maybe that mishap back at the room had been good for something after all? It was the only thing she could think of that might have caused such a strange phenomenon… Distracted, she had to once again refocus on what the clerk, Radim, was saying. Frankly, she’d missed what he’d last said, but then he was standing and ushering her through a door on the right and chattering about the privilege of being able to see inside the prestigious print house and Kitty was tuning him right back out. She was here on business, not to see the inner workings of yet another magical publishing shop. This was her third one in the past year; they all sort of looked the same at this point. Pavel was in his office when they arrived, Radim knocking a quick rap on the doorway before entering. The man inside stood, head still tilted towards a jet black sparrow perched on his shoulder—the imp’s presence explained ease with which he greeted her, a heavily accented but cheerful “Ms. Jones!” before Radim even had time to speak. He and Radim had a quick exchange in Czech too fast to catch, then Radim stepped out and Pavel gestured her to enter. “Come in, come in, Ms. Jones. You have news and a package from old Karel in London, hm? Please, sit down and tell me why he needs send such a lovely lady friend, rather than this news in the post.” Kitty swallowed. This was the hardest part, always the hardest part, and she’d already done it twice. Out of her bag she pulled a plain book, bound in brown cloth and printed on scrap: a manuscript printed by Mr. Hyrnek. There was also a pamphlet. Assuming today went well and Pavel accepted her request, she would need write her friends back in London and request him to send her another copy before she left Prague. Hands shaking, she set the book on Pavel’s desk and took a deep breath. Ptolemy perched on the edge of the desk, invisible to Pavel and watching her intently. Another deep breath, trying to dislodge the shaking behind her breastbone. Her trimmed down, bare bones narrative of the London Disaster was practically recited by rote now. Only by keeping it clipped, clinical, and precise was she able to get through the worst of the story without stuttering, but she’d told the story before and she’d tell it now. Unfortunately, the shuddering terror of the hybrids needed to be the focus of the tale—that’s why she was here. Magicians, the humans who practiced the enslavement of spirits, needed to know what happened from a first-hand source, told with compassion and urgency, or they would simply take the whole incident as either fairytale, or use it as a way to further demonize both the British Empire and the spirits themselves. If this came out wrong, the enslavement of spirits would worsen, not move closer to eradication. When she’d finished, wrapping up with a quick note of the Interim Council’s formalization of an integrated Parliament and the supposed plans for the country, both members of her audience were silent. Staring. This was a normal reaction, she’d gotten it from the print masters in both Paris and Madrid, and she didn’t blame them or Pavel. It was a lot to hear. It’d been a lot more to live through. Eventually, Pavel spoke. “That is...a harrowing tale. We’d heard of some horror from across the channel when the empire broke two years ago, but to think…” He swallowed. “Yes, this needs to be recorded. I assume this manuscript is the account?” Kitty nodded. “Yes, originally published by Hyrnek and Sons, but we all agreed that something like this should be shared. If nothing else, please, we request you bring this to the Archivist and have it included in the archive. If you are willing to print and distribute it, that is for the best, but I understand—” “I will, of course, do my best to ensure it is placed in the archives. And we will see what can be done about distribution.” Reaching out—just missing Ptolemy, who jumped away before his arm could be brushed—Pavel picked up the pamphlet. “And this?” “A list of the spirits who perished in the disaster, to update the newest editions.” And maybe a few others, but who was to know? Pavel flipped through it and Kitty stood, scooping up her satchel once more. Alarmed, Pavel stood as well. “Ms. Jones! Surely you don’t mean to leave so soon?” Exhaustion weighed her voice, two haunted years dogging her steps. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vlastislav, but I need to be going. I’ll leave the address I’m staying at with Radim and I’ll be in town for a few weeks. Find me there if you need anything.” That was the nice thing about her situation—after all the horrors and all the insanity and quite literally visiting another plane of existence, social niceties were near the bottom of her priority list. With a parting nod, she let herself out of the office without another word. Ptolemy was silent as she retraced their steps back to the lobby, still silent as she left her contact information with Radim, silent all the way until they’d reached the Archive once more. He didn’t suggest a book to start with, so Kitty made her way to one of the study tables and pulled another book from her satchel, rather than any of the shelves. Delicate pages with scorched edges crinkled as she turned them, scanning the handwritten translations in the margins. She’d been offered a fresh copy of Ptolemy’s Apocrypha with an English translation printed in, but Button’s book was special, and translating it with Bartimaeus’s help was a good memory. Credit to his perturbation, when Ptolemy finally spoke it wasn’t about the book she held. “I’m sorry. What happened… I can’t imagine. I didn’t realize the kind of trauma what I did would cause you.” “You couldn’t have,” Kitty replied diffidently, blithe tone slicking her thoughts to icy smoothness. “Like I said, it’s something no commoner would be able to understand, and most magicians too. The only ones who could come close are those of us who were there, and even then… The one who would best understand the bond you were trying to attempt is— Well, he’s dead.” Silence again, then: “And you? Would that make you the closest living authority?” “Actually, no.” She was able to look up and smile. “That would be Bartimaeus, so let’s hit the books and then you can ask him yourself, yeah?”

Chapter 5: Somewhere: Sometime

4,752,256

Dread emptiness pressed in around him. Is this how his friend had felt, all those years alone? When the spirits passed—back and forth and back and forth—he could sense their movement, know their passing, but there was no sound to hear, no sight to see. Even this place he was stuck, a place he felt should have something of substance to perceive was just...nothing. To stave back the madness, he began to study the passing spirits with whatever senses were available to him. Thousands upon thousands passed before his examination, and on every few he focused his attention. Going one way, they seemed to mournfully coalesce from liquid freedom into a speeding, aerodynamic form to rocket through the other side of the gate; coming the other, solid misery flared and flittered out in joyous reaching for the far bank. Nowhere did the strange, fluid channel appear again. Only cold, clinical, slippery-walled openings to pull the beings to and from. He’d reached out to one once, only to find himself sliding off, lacking whatever was needed to be included in the transference. Probably for the best. Once the temporary madness left him, his logic reasserting itself over the crushing loneliness, he drew away from the traffic in fear. To be loosed in the fearful current without anchor or guide? No, he couldn’t… Or at least he thought that. And thought that. And thought that until he came to the point—singular and horrifying—that he could. His watching took on a new edge: analytical, searching. Time barely existed here, but some amount of it had passed before something caught his attention. Another direct stretch, calling for a specific being, but something about it was...softer. It was inviting but wary, familiar but fearful, like a stranger singing a long-buried song from childhood. Carefully, not flinging himself with abandon like someone had, he approached. It was tenuous, as all of these were—temporal and not meant to last long, unlike the fluid path they’d seen before—and this one was even more ephemeral than most. Holes in the weave, it could have been described. From one end, movement came, barrelling closer and closer and...familiar. Yes, the being speeding down was definitely a construction of substance he recognized but couldn’t put a name to. Names were hard here. Names were hard, but suddenly decisions were not. As the spirit sped past, he impressed some effort upon the pulling force, imposing himself on the construct until he fell through in a flurry of movement that he could suddenly feel, not just perceive in an abstract sort of way. He could feel it and he still felt it as he tumbled through. The portal did exactly as all the others did. He felt himself being compacted and compressed, separate from the being it was actually meant for thankfully, as he’d hopped in a good moment past it, but the bonds were ill-fitting. A familiar word that wasn’t his word. And so, when both he and the other tumbled out the other side, he felt himself spinning and drifting, formless and dazed as his traveling partner took form in a circle.

Chapter 6: Prague: Saint's Day

In a brilliant bit of foresight, the first thing Kitty asked Bartimaeus to do once he’d arrived was cast a nexus about her room to silence all noise coming from within. A good move, as her explanation of the situation first garnered her a bemused “what?” Followed by some silence. Then some contemplation of the figure who was making a concentrated effort to appear on the mortal plane to more than just Kitty. Then followed by a roar of the same word that had come before. There was a lot of yelling for a short time. Possibly some crying as well, not that Kitty would ever tell. But when it was done, and all explained and settled and understood, she might have asked Bartimaeus to remove the nexus. Absentmindedly, she forgot. This turned out to be a good thing as, five hours later, both she and Bartimaeus stared at Ptolemy over their sketches of runes, figures, and half-circle diagrams in consternation. Together, their query was definitely loud enough to have been heard by the good matron downstairs. “You don’t have their name?! ” Kitty groaned and set her pencil aside. They’d been at this for hours, and only now did Ptolemy mention he was lacking this key piece of their puzzle? Bartimaeus looked just as crestfallen in his guise of a young, dark skinned man, wearing a traditional desert kilt and bedecked with a necklace of amethyst, but also not terribly surprised. “Ptolemy, my friend. I always knew your disinclination for names would come back to bite us in inconvenient places. Admittedly, this is the furthest situation from what I could have imagined, but still.” The ghostly boy in question was not meeting either of their gazes. He was staring at the bedspread he sat on, stunned silent. Then quietly, obviously not in reaction to what either of them had said, he breathed a word Kitty had never heard in her life. Bartimaeus, however, choked on his non-existent spit, indicating that it was probably something foul. After a few more moments of unintelligible invective that had Bartimaeus’s jaw on the floor, Ptolemy muttered, “I can’t believe I forgot. We were there for what must have been years, how did I not ask? I promised. I’m a magician, I know how important names are. How could I have forgotten?” Kitty winced. They had maybe been a bit harsh. “It’s alright, I’m sure we can figure something out…” Ptolemy stood up and began to pace, making circuit after circuit of the tiny room. Amusingly, every time he turned a corner, he also stepped upwards about an inch, beginning to spiral upwards as he muttered to himself. Kitty glanced over at Bartimaeus, who shrugged, leaned over and whispered, “Don’t look at me, this is new. He didn’t used to pace.” “Hmm…” A ghost pacing was a strange phenomenon in that you couldn’t hear them, the fact that they were pacing of above your head at this point notwithstanding. It was painfully quiet. Kitty and Bartimaeus went back to fiddling with their designs, pencil and quill scratching loudly in the silence, but still working around a glaringly blank space where, in all of them, a name had to be placed. “I need a calendar!” Ptolemy’s voice, loud in the room, had Kitty jumping nearly a foot out of her chair. He was suddenly right next to her, face intent and determined. “I had a formula, I just need to do the calculations and we can figure out when my friend arrived. From there— Well, only a few specific circumstances could cause this, so maybe someone will have heard about it happening?” “Well, it’s somewhere to start…” Bartimaeus hedged, and Kitty agreed with the hesitant tone. How on earth were they going to sus out a single death of magical happenstance, even if they could narrow it down to an exact date? Kitty caught Ptolemy’s gaze again. There was a light, one she felt mirrored in her own past. Hope. And hell if she could ignore that. She’d wrestled demons, ransacked governments, and crossed dimensions for a hope like that, and well—Ptolemy had been the source of a lot of that hopeful vision. It was the least she could do to try and help him in turn. As Ptolemy still hadn’t managed enough substance to actually touch anything, Kitty was the one to walk to her duffel and dig out yet another book. She was becoming quite the librarian herself, these days. This one was worn, thick, full of cramped handwriting with a ribbon bookmark between the last few pages. Returning to the small table, she set it down. “Not a calendar, but close. My journal goes back two years, almost. Think your friend showed up in about that timeframe?” Ptolemy nodded firmly. “It couldn’t have been longer than that. Now, let me just…” He trailed off, fingers tracing invisible numbers on the table. With his brows drawn together in a focused frown, Kitty thought privately that he’d never looked less like Bartimaeus’s replication. Similarly, the fond expression Bartimaeus watched him with was a brand new thing to see on the spirit’s face, and something warmed in her. For the span of about an hour, a long time ago, Kitty had cared about a djinni and a boy more than anyone else in her probably-about-to-end life. This wasn’t the same, couldn’t ever be the same, but she liked it anyway. Across the table, Ptolemy was now rattling off numbers to Bartimaeus, who flipped through the journal pages—first in large swaths, then fewer and fewer at a time. Closer and closer to the front cover until— “That’s the end of it.” Both of them were staring down at the first entry on the first page of Kitty’s journal—a date, five words, and a tiny shard of glass taped to the paper. Bartimaeus continued, “How much further back?” “Two days.” Kitty looked at them blankly. They both looked back—Ptolemy glowing with the triumph of a puzzle solved, Bartimaeus with...something. Probably the same something building somewhere in the pit of Kitty’s stomach. “There’s no way,” she managed eventually, voice hoarse, throat suddenly dust dry. Bartimaeus’s reply was just a nervous chuckle while Ptolemy glanced between them, his high fading into confusion. “What’s the matter?” It took Kitty two tries to clear the lump from her throat. “Erm, well. You remember what I said about the only person who would understand possession by a spirit being dead? And what Bartimaeus said about the Glass Palace?” “Yes?” “That all happened two days before my first journal entry. I didn’t think to start recording events until— I was a right mess, basically, until then.” Understanding dawned on Ptolemy’s face and brought a smile to his face. The smile grew, bit by bit as he looked between his two friends. “Well then, shall we try? It’s our best guess, and the worst that will happen is it doesn’t work.” They both watched as he breezed over to where Kitty and Bartimaeus had left their sketches. A moment of careful study, then he pointed to Bartimaeus’s page—the djinni smirked at Kitty, who stuck out her tongue. “This one. Let’s try this one.” He bounced on his toes, each bounce taking him higher into the air. “Come on! I still can’t hold the chalk, help me draw this!” So they did. The dingy, dusty boarding room was a flurry of activity for long minutes. Bartimaeus did most of the kneeling and drawing while Kitty held the string guides and lit the few candles they needed for the spell. Ptolemy supervised, directing them in drawing a half-circle diagram. Lines stretched out from it in rays, similar to Kitty’s communication spell, but with a few slight adjustments. More geometric than ornate, the completed spell was chalked innocuously on the floor as Bartimaeus scratched out the last few runes. At the apex of the arch, a blank space had been left. Almost reverently they all knelt, Bartimaeus handing Kitty the chalk as she regarded the bare patch of floorboards before bringing the chalk down. Her handwriting was nowhere near as calligraphic as Bartimaeus’s—her chicken scratch legible but not beautiful as she spelled the name out: Nathaniel Chalk still in hand, she traced under the letters with a finger, the spell still cold and not yet activated. Together, Ptolemy and Bartimaeus reached out as well—and then another transparent finger traced along the top of the word. Glancing up, her gaze met with blue eyes, happy and calm in a way she’d never seen them while he was alive. “That’s what it was. I guess I just needed someone to write it down before I could form up properly. Took your time about it, didn’t you?” Surprise jerked her hand and brought her in contact with all three of the other beings in the room. Her vision spun and everything was very mixed up for a very confusing moment. Kitty was, for seconds or hours, not just Kitty anymore. Four souls rushed around and around in a feedback loop, bringing nausea to a body that wasn’t even really hers to experience it. It was like being back in the Other Place. Actually, it felt exactly like that, and the similarities echoed through their loop loud enough to bring the chaos to a balance. Carefully, they all extracted themselves from the morass—all but Nathaniel at least understanding the mechanics of the feat—and another moment brought Kitty solitude in her mind once more. She had fallen onto her backside, legs twisted awkwardly, and three beings of unearthly substance lay sprawled nearby. On seeing their mess, pushed up on her elbows, a giggle bubbled up from her throat. Then another, and another, until she couldn’t hold them back and collapsed onto the dusty floor, laughing until their was no more breath in her body. Around her, Ptolemy joined in first, then Nathaniel, then Bartimaeus, until they were all cackling like maniacs for long minutes. Good thing the silencing nexus is still still up, Kitty thought faintly, which sent her and her friends off into more gales of laughter. They laughed until all their surprised energy had been spent in joy. Jittery adrenaline rush settled to a wondrous warmth in Kitty’s chest as she looked at her friends. There was no telling what they would need to do now. But as far as she was concerned, it didn’t matter. They were together, no one was dead in the traditional sense of the word, and the world hadn’t tried to end for two whole years. She didn’t get sappy often, but today seemed like the day to try—the most pleasant Hallows Eve and Saints’ Day she’d ever experienced, by far.

#the bartimaeus trilogy #the bartimaeus sequence #bartseq #bartimaeus #bartimaeus trilogy #kitty jones #ptolemy #Nathaniel Underwood #fics of ryd

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs “Christmas.”

wrote this based on a request for fluff, so I have delivered the fluff. There is a certain group of you who will probably be a little bit made at me when you finish :)

But here is the token Christmas episode, and I hope you all like it

“Alright, try it now.”

“But Commander, I'll have to pull power from the reactor core.”

“I said do it airmen, did it sound like a question?”

“Yes, sir.”

A sudden eruption of lights exploded about the mess hall, and down the hallways of the ship, thousands of tiny twinkling lights. Krill, having been walking to speak with the Commander paused at the entrance to the room and spun around in wonder. Lines upon lines of lights had appeared out of nowhere to be projected around the walls of the room and down the hallways of the ship. They weren’t bright or anything, instead an almost delicate yellow in color gently twinkling like the light of distant stars.

“Get those overhead lights off,”

With a loud thud, the lights switched off, casting the room into the warm ambient glow of those thousand twinkling lights. He spun in a circle staring up at the ceiling, shocked to find a mosaic of falling snowflakes, which faded and vanished before hitting the floor,

“Give me more fall-off on that snow airman. Tomorrow better be magical or someone is getting their ass fired.”

He turned his head again eyes widening in geater wonder as they fell on the center of the room. The flickering, projected hologram of a massive tree. It was one of those furry looking earth plants that could reach higher than thirty feet tall, though this one only nearly brushed the ceiling. It stood in the middle of the room decorated by hundreds more twinkling lights, yards of red ribbon and shiny glass balls. Atop the tree, there was projected the human caricature of a star glittering with firelight.

Tongues of phantom fire licked against the far wall, under a mantle of stone and brick.

Krill turned in another wide circle as the strange lights flickered around him, reminding him strangely of the space walk he had gone on with the commander so long ago, stepping out into the darkness surrounded by stars, alone in the vastness of space, but where that had been cold and distant, this was a close warmness that filled him up from the inside and made him feel oddly warm.

Soft footsteps behind him and then a pause.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“What is it?’

“Realistically, more than four thousand years of pagan-christian and corporate tradition.” Krill looked up to find the array of glittering lights reflected against the human’s bright green iris. His voice grew soft, though it stayed warm, “More romanticized…. This is…. Home. This is childhood and imagination, and family wrapped in a box and tied with a bow. This is being warm when its cold and loved when you’re alone. This is comfort on the edges of space when earth is a trillion lightyears away and you may never go back.”

“Feeling a bit poetic today I see?’

The Commander shrugged, “Maybe a little…. Kind of homesick too.” he sighed, “This is the first year I won’t be celebrating Christmas with my family.”

“Christmas?”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure what it meant to other people, but when I was a kid, it was mostly just a day to celebrate our family…. Mom loves Christmas, she goes all out every year, even when things were tight…. She always managed to make things special. One year dad snuck out in the middle of the night and left reindeer tracks in the snow to convince us they had been there.”

“Er, Reindeer?”

“Ah, never mind. I’ll tell you about it later. Important thing is getting everything ready for tonight. If you want to see the real magic.”

Krill stared at the commander as he walked away not entirely sure what the hell that was supposed to mean. He was trailed by a rather grumpy looking Glados. In the past few months the adaptid had grown to the size of a medium sized dog, and the Commander was, more and more, forcing her to walk on her own, Which she didn’t much like.

Krill glanced around at the lights one last time before returning down the hall and towards the medical bay. All across the ship crew members were busy putting up decorations, stringing strange fluffy streamers over the exposed piping.

One crew-member, in a red and a green hat with a bell on top was hanging strange plants from the tops of doorways. He looked on in confusion before stepping into the medical bay greeted by Dr. Katie, who was wearing a red and white dress with a matching hat and striped leggings. She looked like a peppermint stick...

“Good evening krlll, are you ready for christmas?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Other than it's some sort of human holiday.”

“Yeah, it’s the one day of year where people get together and give each other gifts and stuff. To some people it means different things, simply a family day or to celebrate religious figures. Just sort of depends. Some people don’t celebrate it at all, but the Commander seems pretty big on christmas, so why not.”

“Why are you dressed up like that?”

She winked at him, “Because I’m an elf silly.”

“You know this is almost the first time in half a year in which I have no understood a single word coming out of your mouth. She simply winked and continued on her way whistling happily.”

Of course the night came, and out of Character Dr. katie curled up on one of the hospital beds and fell asleep leaving Krill alone in the half darkness. He spent the rest of his time on the internet looking up information on the so-called holiday. What he found was a tangled mess of pagan-cristian-and corporate traditions just like the Commander had suggested. A lot to do with saints and demons and more information than he was willing to read all the way through at this moment. He wasn’t a xeno historian after all.

The night wore on, and he sensed a strange stillness in the air around him caused by the ambient light leaking in from the hallway, warm and fiery.

It was close to two in the morning when a knock came on the door to the medical bay. Dr. Katie stirred and sat up adjusting her dress as she ran over motioning Krill after her. Curiously he followed after her, stepping into the hall to find….. More than a strange sight. There was Conn, draped all over in glittering tinsel to add to his flowing ribbons. A couple other humans were dressed in the strange red and green costumes with pointy hats and bells on their shoes. Waffles, the dog, was sitting just before the door wearing a fake pair of antlers, her tongue lolling happily from one side of her mouth. Sitting with her were the three adaptids in similar states of dress glados looking cowed but a little more than miffed to be there. Both of them were covered in bells as well, and all of that strangeness arrayed around the weirdest thing of all, a very large fat man in a blindingly red suit, and big white beard.

He moved forward ad Dr. Katie hopped over to join the strange party grinning and giggling as she patted waffle’s head. The dog licked her hand, “You make such adorable reindeer.” She reached down to pat Glados next, and the adaptid sulked, but didn’t try to bite her as she might have done with someone else.

“HO HO HO, Merry Christmas!” Said the big fat man, and looking up into his eyes, Krill suddenly grew very suspicious. He had only ever seen a shade of green like that on one human.

“What the hell have you done to yourself.” he demanded.

Adam raised an eyebrow, though most of his face was covered by a beard, “I have no idea what you’re on about.”

Krill was horrified, “Look at you…. How…. how do you gain that much weight in such a short amount of time. Are you mad? Are you ok? Are you going to die of a heart attack in the next fifteen minutes because something tells me this can’t be healthy.” He glared at the human, “When were you going to tell me that humans could just spontaneously gain an enormous amount of weight. Whatever this is, it is an immediate medical emergency. Plus the beard, some serious hormonal dis-regulation I can’t even begin to imagine what sort of-”

“KRILL! Its a suit, a costume, I didn’t just spontaneously gain weight.” The human adjusted his beard voice sounding more normal now that he wasn’t trying to make it deeper, “I’m Santa Claus?

“And who is that supposed to be?”

“Well, he is the physical embodiment of the spirit of Christmas. Legend says, he lives at the north pole, and works with the elves making toys all year round. He keeps to lists, and on one list appears the name of all the well behaved children, and on the other list appears the names of the naughty children, he will check both lists twice, and there is no point trying to trick him because he sees everything. And then on the night of Christmas, he gathers all the presents into the back of his sleigh, which is pulled by nine magical flying reindeer. Then, he takes all night to to fly all around the world delivering presents to kids. Most of the time he comes down the chimney, if you have one. He will fill stockings (socks) hung over the fireplace with small toys and then put the big presents under the Christmas tree. If you were a bad kid than he wouldn’t leave a present, but a lump of coal instead. Generally it is recommended that one leaves some cookies and a glass of milk out as a thank you, oh, and carrots for the reindeer.”

….

There was silence for a long moment, “What in the name of beelzebub's balls kind of story is that.”

Even through the beard he could tell that Adam was frowning, “Stop being such a Grinch. It’s a great story, to help kids behave, and keep the magic alive for a little while before you become and old cantankerous adult that doesn’t believe in anyone or anything anymore.”

“And what is a grinch.”

“A grinch is an angry green person who hates to see other people happy….. Arguably they also hate corporate Christmas, but I digress. Scrooge is also someone who doesn't get the point of Christmas, and both are definitely insults, now come on. You are joining me and my elves while we go deliver presents.”

Before he could protest, he was presented with pointy hat with a bell on it, and forced to follow as they wandered silently off down the halls.

Adam pulled out a clipboard, “Alright everyone, our list here says that approximately 85% of the crew celebrates Christmas, but we will still be delivering presents to everyone because we are nice and that is what we do. Nobody is expected to join in tomorrow but everyone is invited because we aren't trash humans.” Glados and Waffles walked at his heels as the rest of the humans followed behind lugging large bags over their shoulders, “Alright Katie, you’re with me in filling the stockings, the rest of you are charged with leaving a trail to the mess hall where the actual presents will be, one for everyone at least, no one is left out. Corporal, you get the people who don’t celebrate Christmas, and just leave the gifts outside their doors. Make sure to leave the notes for them as well so they know they are invited if they want to come.”

“Yes s…. Ur Mr. Claus?”

“Damn Straight.”

“What about the Drev?”

“I am including them in the list of people who celebrate simply because I want them to have the experience once before they decide whether they like it or not. Everyone should get the chance to at least choose.”

It too nearly the next few hours to get things done. Krill Accompanied the Commander, Conn, waffles, and the Adaptids as they jingled quietly up the halls slipping into rooms where crew members had been instructed to leave socks hanging from their bed frames.

On more than one occasion Krill watched as a very confused human, light sleeper, sat up and watched blearily as they exited the room with a confused look on their faces. Some seeming even amused. The heavier sleepers didn’t notice a thing.

They reached the Drev and Marine quarters at some point towards the end of the night, making it through one relatively quickly, but just as he was about to step into the last room, Glados growled and snapped at his boot.

Commander…. Santa? Looked down and harrumphed, “Someone here is going on the naughty list.” Katie and Krill leaned forward as a light shined down on the delicate silver trip wire cut across the door.

Katie snorted, “Coal.”

Quietly, he stepped over the line and into the room Glados leaping behind him. “Alright which one of the naughty children is trying to capture St. Nick?”

Krill turned on his thermal vision and could see the vast majority of the marines were not sleeping.”

He turned to look over at Krill and Conn, who motioned in the direction of one of the beds. He walked quietly over leaning next to the ear of the ‘supposedly” Sleeping marine, “I see you when you’re sleeping Ramiez .”

There was an eruption of uncontained giggling around the room, which was rather strange coming from the large, muscular humans.

“Oh…. kinky.” A muffled voice whispered from somewhere.

More giggling.

“Is that you Santa?”

“Guess who's getting coal for Christmas.”

He turned towards the door.

“Wait, wait, Santa, wait! I have a question. “

He paused in the doorway raising his eyebrows at the marines who were sitting up, “What?”

“How did you get here without reindeer?”

He wagged a finger at them, “Very carefully. You better thank my elves, they had to get degrees in engineering, physics and rocket science to get me here. And what is worse, my Star-sleigh was pulled by a bunch of snarky starborn led by that one.” He pointed towards Conn, “he almost guided us into a black hole, so you better be nice and leave me out some cookies next year.”

He stepped over the tripwire and back out into the hallway allowing the door to shut closed behind them.

Outside there was a trail of tinsel and strange footprints leading away from the doors and down the halls. He left the bag just outside the door with the rest of the stocking stuffers in it, not ever having intended to leave the marines with just coal.

They took one last jingling run up and down the halls for effect before retreating to the mess hall where they promptly passed out on bean bags by the holographic tree in front of the holographic fire.

Glados crawled up onto the fake belly and curled up there glowering at anyone who got to close. Waffles and the other adaptids curled up just to the side.

***

Sunny woke up early the next morning thinking how odd it was, that strange tinkling sound in the middle of the night. She sat up looking over at the sock she had been asked to place in her room. She had been forced to borrow it from someone considering she didn’t wear socks, and was surprised to find something sticking out of it.

She wandered over and tipped the contents into her hands surprised to find an earth flower, and some miscellaneous items of use for her work down in engineering.

Curiously, she opened the door into the hallway idly munching on the flower, and found a trail leading from her door and down the hall. The scene surprised her, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to think. It clearly had the intention of being followed, and curious, she followed finishing off the flower as she came around the corner dropping the stem in surprise when she saw the room before her.

Hundreds of holographic lights, a tree, fire, piles of blankets and beanbags and lounging humans half asleep. Conn was floating up near the ceiling trailing tinsel. Krill was hovering beside the tree looking more than a little confused. Dr. Katie was moving wrapped gifts below the tree dressed like a peppermint stick.

Adam….. Well Adam was peeling off a suit that added about two hundred pounds to his frame. It seemed as if there had also been a fake beard and massive coat, as far as she could see. Took him a few seconds to wriggle out of the boots and oversized pants dumping them on a chair close by leaving him in a white shirt and military issue olive green pants.

He looked up from where he had dumped his costume and grinned at her.

She walked closer.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Erm…. Merry Christmas?.... What’s a Christmas.”

“Apparently it’s a human holiday perpetrated on the idea that a magical fat man in a red suit, flies around the world on a magical sleigh pulled by magical non-flying flying mammal to deliver presents to children who were good…. Oh also he watches you when you sleep.” Sunny stared at Krill in confusion.

Overhead Conn was mimicking voiceless laughter.

“Don’t mind him, he's being a little grinch as usual. Come on, we’re just waiting to give people time to show up, and then we are gonna open presents.”

“How did you manage to get something for everyone?

“Well I asked for help number one, but number two, what else am I supposed to do with my money. I mean I have a place to live, a place to sleep, entertainment, food, anything a guy could as for, so I just threw a paycheck or two at it. Otherwise its just sitting in my bank account collecting dust until I can find something dumb and nerdy to spend it on…. I thought…. Well I thought this would mean more than getting myself a light-saber or something.”

She stared at him for a long moment, “You are such a…. Sap.”

He smiled, “Maybe a little. I mean it's not much, anyway, but it made me feel good.”

She paused, tilted her head, and then hugged him. He seemed a little surprised one eye peering up at her from a four- arm embrace. He didn’t say anything until she let him go and he stepped back to look at her, “What was that for?”

“You…. well. You… deserve it. And I don’t think you get reminded enough.”

She thought she saw a little bit of red creeping up his neck and he looked down at his feet, waving it off, “Nah, if you knew what went on inside my head, you wouldn’t say that.”

She decided not to argue with him, humans were horrible with accepting compliments sometimes. Instead she found herself sharing music with him as they lay on one of the beanbags waiting for the others to arrive.

He had his eyes closed appearing as if he was sleeping through she knew he probably wasn't . At some point he adjusted himself so that his head was resting on one of her arms, using her like a pillow. A few more people started to trickle in, including the marines, one of which, Ramirez, was wearing bright red footie pajamas and walked over to claim a bean bag just to the wide.

Adam opened an eye and looked over at him, “What the hell are you wearing.”

“My footie pajamas.”

“Yeah I got that…..”

“Don’t diss the footies..”

“ Yeah sure, anyway what would have happened if I stepped on the trip-wire?” Sunny lifted her head at the mention of a trip wire.

Ramirez grinned, “it would have been pretty glorious, that’s what, but guess you will never know.”

“Rude.”

A few of the other marines wandered in blearily, CJ, Davis, and maverick who took a seat cross-legged on the floor her short blond hair sticking up in all directions like the open wings of a bird.

Finally The commander determined it was time and began handing out the presents, first to the more introverted people, who he figured could take their present and head off if they really wanted. A few of the non-Christmas-people showed up just to hang out causing a sort of slow trickle in and out of the room almost constantly.

Krill and Conn were both presented with gifts, Krill who just happened to get a little cube that was advertised as holding about a million different puzzles of all different types and at varying levels He seemed pleased, though he insisted on his patrol through the room to make sure the humans weren’t doing anything stupid.

Conn was presented with some sort of hand-held gaming system, actually relatively cheap compared to what they used to be.

He loved it.

ANd based on Commander Vir’s smug expression, he had done it on purpose, probably to keep the starborn out of his head.

Sunny was standing at the back of the room watching the humans rather fondly, as well as the other Drev, who seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as the humans. Her brother and Maverick were causing trouble across the room and nearly giving krill a conniption. Watching all of this, she still noticed Adam approaching from the side holding one last box.

He held it up, “One more present left.”

She turned to face him, “For you.”

He held it out, “Well you, obviously….. I sort of waited till last because…. Well you technically got more than everyone else. My Mom sent a few things up, and I just added her gift to mine.”

Sunny took the box and looked up in surprise, “Your mom…. But she…. She hates me.”

A small smile, “I think she's come around. It’s just taken her a while. I think this is supposed to be an apology. It's pretty cute, I think you should wear it.”

Out of curiosity, she opened the box and looked inside to find a piece of fabric neatly folded on top. With her upper hands she reached to unfold it, whatever it was it was made out of very warm material, “What is it?”

“I guess it's called a cowl. She thought it would be something she could make that wouldn't get in the way of you wearing armor, and, since you guys sometimes wear capes, it would also go with that. Here try it on.” He took it from her hands standing on his tip-toes to pull it over her head and shoulders. Turned out it was pretty much just a hood, unattached to anything and that really only covered the head and shoulders.

She peered out form inside, to see him grinning.

It was a funny picture, though she could see out, really the only think everyone else saw was the end of her snout/beak peeping out from under the hood. She lifted her head, and the hood fell a little further over her eyes.

He laughed, and helped her pull it back a bit, “She thought since you guys are more… warm weather creatures, that you could probably use one of these on our expeditions.”

“You should tell her thanks, from me.”

“I will.”

She looked back down inside the box and was surprised to find it was full of different kinds of flowers. She looked back up at him in surprise, “How did you get these out here.”

“Wasn’t easy, tell you that.”

She leaned down snapping one of them up rewarded with a very light fragrant flavor. It was pretty nice, but then she looked back at Adam to see him smiling nearly dropping the box when she realized, “You! Where is your present. Didn’t you get anything?”

He just broke into a smile, “Sunny, I’m friends with like seven different kinds of aliens, I Command an entire FLEET of spaceships, and have like 300+ friends. I got my childhood dream, so what else do I need?”

She paused sure he was right, but also feeling bad.

They stood there together, looking out at the room when Ramirez glided past still in his footie pajamas. As he did his eyes widened a bit and he paused a slow grin spreading over his face. Adam gave him a very confused expression, but Ramirez just shook his head and pointed up before gliding away.

In confusion both Sunny and Adam looked up.

Sunny tilted her head.

“What is that?”

She turned her head down to look at Adam and found the man’s skin changing color again. “Er….. it’s…. That appears to be…. mistletoe .”

She lifted her head again to stare at the strange plant, “Oh….. like in that Christmas movie….”

“Yeah…. Like in that…. Christmas movie.”

“Oh.”

They both looked down at about the same time. The way the Christmas lights interacted with the UV patterns on his skin, turned the usually blue, turquoise pattern on his skin almost electric lightning blue. The green in his eyes was more potent with the way the light refracted in them. Little twinkling lights danced over the polished surface of her bright-blue carapace.

He didn’t look away.

Neither did she.

And then a small brown shape came screaming from nowhere cutting between them. They both stepped back in shock, and Krill roared past grabbing the plant from where it hung, “Reeeeeeeeeeeeeee! NO, NO, NO, NO STUPID IDIOTIC HUMANS HANGING POISONOUS THINGS WHERE ANY OTHER STUPID HUMAN MIGHT EAT THEM! I WILL NOT HAVE IT YOU HEAR ME. I WILL NOT” and then he went roaring away trailing laughter in his wake. Slowly Sunny and Adam turned to look at each other before doubling over racked with fits of laughter. Adam ended up on the floor leaning against the wall, just below where Sunny propped herself.

Just when they thought they'd stop laughing, they started up again.

“Damn…. Crazy…. Bastard.” Adam Wheezed crawling to his feet

“Did you hear that sound he made?”

“Yeah, classic Krill….. Anyway.” He paused shuffling his feet, “Wanna go, push Ramirez over or something?”

“Sounds fun, I’m in.”

“Sweet.”

By the end of the hour, Ramirez was upside down in a pile of bean bags everyone laughing at his expense.

All in all, it was a pretty good Christmas

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