#he needs to be able to flex and relax his feet against the webbing to maneuver properly
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i'm belatedly realizing pav doesn't wear shoes or have soles built into his costume bc of the way he uses his webs! he uses his legs and feet about as much as his arms to maneuver, and having shoes on would just get in the way. unlike his counterparts, pav's fighting style is based around kalaripayattu, which is an indian martial art, and from the bit i've read, his fighting style would resemble the northern style the most bc it focuses on elegant and flexible movements, evasions, and jumps.
i also read that apparently!! dancers of certain styles will actually incorporate kalaripayattu into their training regimen! i might change it as i read more and research, but i'm gonna say that pavitr definitely practices one of those dance styles, thus why he's able to utilize certain aspects/movements of kalaripayattu! it just makes sense to me, not just bc of how he moves, but bc being spider-man is so easy to him. if he already had the physique, the smarts, and a head start with the combat training, of course being spider-man's easy!
#i'm rubbing my hands together realizing i got a new cultural rabbit hole to fall down hehe#just earlier today i thought not having shoes was such an impractical choice especially in a heavily populated city#where you're swinging around and leaping off buildings and fighting people#but it makes way more sense thinking about how he moves with his webs#he needs to be able to flex and relax his feet against the webbing to maneuver properly#ANYWAY i feel more at ease now so maybe i can get some more stuff done uvu#headcanons | pavitr
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A Lovely birthday present for @sapphicquill! A fic full of all her favorite things for my favorite person on the planet!
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast, The Poly Nein - Relationship
Characters: Caleb Widogast, Fjord (Critical Role)
Additional Tags: Tickling, Teasing, Verbal teasing, Fjord’s a charismatic fuck, and will wreck a wizard, Kink Negotiation, Praise Kink, tickle kink, critickle role, Cuddling & Snuggling, Pinned, All Tieflings Are Knismos, Begging, Communication, Dom Fjord (Critical Role), Sub Caleb Widogast, Light Dom/sub
Summary:
With their tiefling lovers away visiting their people, Caleb and Fjord are left alone in the tower. Caleb has an itch. A want. No, a need. If only he could bring himself to ask for it.
Read on Ao3 or here:
He should have just asked.
As agonizing as that would have been, Jester wouldn’t have even teased him about it. She would have smiled and opened her arms, inviting him in, and turned him into a puddle before she left. Clearly a better option than the one he was stuck in.
Molly would have teased him, sure, but his eagerness to get on with the thing would have made it short-lived, and the results would have been the same.
He might have even been able to rope both of them, if he really wanted it. Gods, did he really want it. Now they were both in Nicodranas for the week, and an unexpected call from the Cobalt Soul had emptied their home further, until it contained one unique set of marbles that rattled around in the emptiness. Caleb himself… and Fjord.
It was so rare that they were alone together, their social lives whittled away from the web of their found family to their own unique love and camaraderie. Caleb would never tell Beau about Fjord’s skipped workouts. Fjord would keep quiet about the many long nights Caleb would spend buried in books and surviving on whatever food his insistent little cats could entice him with.
They were intimate, though with the others gone they fell into the pattern of a slow, quiet midday fuck in the library rather than mind-melting tickle attacks.
As warm as their days together were, Caleb was feeling the absence of the others. Had he really become this dependent? Had he lived so long with the luxury of insightful tiefling lovers (with a crew of accomplices) that he couldn’t go more than a few days without? Evidence said yes.
Specifically, the way his nerves had ignited when Fjord poked his head into the library late that night.
“Caleb?” He waited for the wizard’s gaze, “Come to bed tonight, hm? It’s getting lonely.”
“Oh…” Caleb felt his face alight, “It’s been so late, I didn’t want to wake you…”
Fjord waved a hand with an affectionate grin. “I know. I’m not offended. I don’t care if you wake me, though. Come to bed.”
Caleb returned the smile, hoping the shiver that chased itself around his skin wasn’t visible from the doorway. “ Ja , ok. I will. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
~~~
Caleb would swear to himself, even later, that he hadn’t meant to wake Fjord. He’d stepped into his lovers’ bedroom with every intention of creeping over to the empty side of the bed and slipping between the covers, quiet as a mouse. Unfortunately he’d left his sea legs on a ship many months before.
The gentle rocking that he’d enchanted into the bedroom combined with pitch blackness and an exhausted mind sent him tumbling into a piece of furniture— a chair?— then over it and onto the floor with a clatter. He was upright again by the time Fjord roused.
“Caleb? Are you alright?”
“Ja, just clumsy.” Caleb assured him, hurriedly putting himself into the bed and holding perfectly still. “I’m fine, go back to sleep.”
His attempt to be inconspicuous was thwarted when one arm slung itself around his middle and pulled him in to spoon with a long, even sigh. “‘Kay.”
Caleb tried to relax into Fjord’s warm embrace, until the other man’s hand started to move. One broad, smooth palm stroked his chest, stomach, side, ribcage… all in firm, gentle strokes that didn’t tickle. At all . Caleb wanted to whimper and squirm, try to catch Fjord’s fingertips against a sensitive spot and earn some little zing of sensation, but he’d already woken him once. Instead he sat very still with his skin aglow with desperation until Fjord drifted off and his hand stilled. Caleb fell asleep not long after, still wholly sensitized and half-hard.
Between basic biology and want-filled dreams, neither situation had resolved itself by morning. In fact, as it did most mornings, his skin felt more sensitive as it awakened. Caleb hadn’t opened his eyes yet when he felt the press of cool lips against the heated skin at the back of his neck, sending shivers rattling through his thin frame.
“Good morning.” Fjord’s voice was a low, sleepy rumble that made Caleb shiver for entirely different reasons.
“Morning” Caleb returned through a yawn, stretching as best he could without wriggling out of Fjord’s embrace.
He found himself suddenly sharply aware of the placement of Fjord’s hands where they were wrapped around his torso, and the restraining weight of one muscular leg thrown over his hip. Still half asleep, he bumped against the embrace with a satisfied little hum before settling his own gangly form within Fjord’s larger one.
“What are you getting up to, today?” Caleb mumbled against the pillows, still wiping sleep from his eyes.
That’s when Fjord’s embrace suddenly tightened, his arms pulling Caleb in close while his leg stopped him from curling up to press him, stretched, against the length of his companion’s form.
“Well, you know…” Fjord yawned, “I’d thought with the tiefs gone you might like a little break from certain things, seeing as how they do get you pretty often. But I’m starting to think that was a mistake on my part.”
Caleb’s skin ignited and he squirmed, suddenly breathless. “I— wait —” For what, even Caleb wasn’t sure.
Fjord chuckled into his shoulders. “Aw, you don’t need to pretend, Caleb. I felt a little bad letting you fall asleep in such a state last night, but it was late, and I know how much more sensitive you are in the mornings.” With that he clenched his fingers, settling their tips on Caleb’s rib cage like needlepoints only to hold perfectly still.
“ Fjord! ” Caleb whined, but it was barely more than a wheeze. He fought the urge to squirm.
“Yes? Did you need something?”
“ Bitte .”
Another chuckle, then hot breath in Caleb’s ear. “Bitty what? Maybe we should make this a lesson in asking for what you want from people who love you. I can stand in for Jester and Caduceus.”
Caleb gritted his teeth, unable to even consider saying the word. He didn’t need to. It was so close . He let out a wordless, pleading whine. Fjord was one of the more susceptible of the nein to pleading.
One of Fjord’s hands tossed the blankets to the side and exposed a long flank of pale skin, currently bound by strong green limbs. The same hand started to float above Caleb’s side, fingers flicking to set off interspersed giggles from the trapped wizard.
“It’s not a burden, you know. Look how easy it is to rile you. Hardly a chore. I don’t even need to touch you…”
Caleb could only whine and giggle, eyes locked on Fjord’s floating hand. The half-orc’s other arm was still wrapped around Caleb’s torso, gripping the wizard’s arms tightly to keep them out of his way.
“…just imagine how bad it’s gonna be when I do.”
Caleb thrashed a little against his restraint with his eyes shut tight, half to hide from the teasing and half out of embarrassment over the squeaking strings of giggles he was producing without so much as a touch.
A smooth palm strokeed at this stomach in a move that would have been comforting had he been calmer, but instead his eyes shot open with a hiccoughing yelp that turned into a whine as the hand withdrew and started floating once more.
“You’re gonna have to say it, if you want it. I could do it just how you love it. Start out nice and slow…”
Fjord’s fingers started to drift again, his fingers skating a scant inch above the soft skin of Caleb’s stomach. Caleb’s eyes were open and locked in a wide, giddy panic. He was already getting breathless.
“…or I could get a little more serious…”
Fingers crooked and made a clawing motion over Caleb’s ribcage, making him squeal and kick his feet against the mattress.
“…or maybe a little beard action…”
“No!” Caleb squeaked, his neck collapsing backward. Fjord hadn’t done anything, but the knowledge that said beard was just out of sight and free to wreak havoc was enough.
“No? Why not?” Fjord asked, hooking one finger to menace above Caleb’s armpit. “Keep telling me ‘no’ instead of 'please tickle me Fjord’ and I might really stop. Just let you marinade for the rest of the week and tell the tieflings how bad you need it when they get home, hmm?”
“No-hohoho! Evil!”
“What’s evil?” Fjord asked patiently, chuckling at the frustrated sound it pulled from the trapped wizard. “Not my beard! You were singing its praises not too long ago. Remember that night? The one where Jester and I kissed you from head to toe?”
The sense memory lit Caleb up. He hid in the bicep of his trapped arm and groaned, feet mussing the sheets further.
“ Der teufel … you’re a fucking devil… they should have brought you with, to their tiefling retreat!”
“Careful, if those two had decided to make exceptions to the tieflings-only rule they would have packed you in a suitcase and served you on a plate.” Fjord’s fingers flexed in the air once more, and Caleb made a sound like he was dying.
“Hang in there, now, what if I were to grab that rope that’s tied under the headboard… and the paintbrushes in the bedside drawer… and I get real patient with your armpits to see how long you can take it.”
One cautious finger was set down carefully on the thin skin at the back of his armpit, too firm and still to really tickle, but Caleb sobbed into his bicep all the same. He felt Fjord shift.
“Are you crying ? Oh, I cannot wait to show Jester this new trick. How to make you wail and cry without doling out one single tickle?”
Caleb didn’t want to prove him right, but he couldn’t help the little wail that escaped. Jester didn’t need to learn to tease like this . Nobody needed to learn to tease like this. In fact, if Fjord didn’t stop teasing, Caleb was pretty due he was going to melt and be absorbed into the mattress like spilled tea.
“Fjord no , stop —”
Suddenly the pinprick sensation near his armpit was gone. The weight of Fjord’s leg was gone, as was Fjord himself. Caleb kicked himself upright, head on a swivel. The half-orc was already pulling on a shirt.
“What…?”
“I told you, if you kept telling me no, I’d stop.”
Cold shock slid down Caleb’s spine, his stomach dropping.
“ Please , Fjord!”
“Please what?”
Caleb made a frustrated sound, balling his hands into fists in the sheets. “Please do everything you just threatened to, you arschloch !” Then he felt a thrill of panic as he was pinned under the paladin’s gaze.
A wicked grin split Fjord’s features as he turned and stalked back towards the bed. “ Everything? Well, I was going to make you say the word, but that’s an offer I can’t refuse. C’mere.”
Whatever fight Caleb had found at the prospect of being abandoned drained out of him as Fjord pushed him backward and sprawled across him.
“So…” Fjord questioned, one eyebrow raised as his hand started to float again. “I’m afraid I can’t quite remember my list… gonna need some help from that keen mind of yours.”
Caleb groaned.
“What was that first thing again?”
It was a ruse. It was a trick. Caleb didn’t care. He was going to combust. His arms were already thrown up to hide his face, so from that hiding place he croaked “Start off slow…”
“Right, right… slow.” Fjord purred.
It turned out that there would be no going slow that morning, because the second his fingers started to skate around Caleb’s navel the wizard’s arms snapped down to protect his torso while he dissolved into breathless, pitchy laughter.
“Oh dear, you’re in big trouble, aren’t you? So riled up already.”
“St— nahaha— don’t tease! ”
“Oh… that was not part of the deal. What’s next?”
“ Nahaha— you know! ”
“Nope.” Fjord was nonchalant as he took the other man apart with one fingertip. “Sorry, don’t remember…”
Caleb hugged his ribcage tighter with one arm and pressed his other fist against his mouth. “Get ahahaha— little mohohore serious!”
His attempts to hide were universally futile. Fjord’s hands started to hop and skip around his torso, delivering a ticklish pinch and prod at every open space he could find without ever trying to get Caleb’s hands out of the way, a sharp reminder of how helpless Caleb was to stop him.
Caleb’s laughter kicked up in a way that left him without breathe to plead or squeal, so he settled for wrapping both arms around his ribs and rolling onto his side to put his face in the pillow.
“Nope.” Two strong hands grabbed his shoulders and flattened him out on his back. “No hiding. Watching you fall apart is the best bit.”
Caleb wailed at his exposure, his laughter leaving him weak enough for Fjord to slide his hands around his ribcage and dig in more thoroughly. Caleb arched his back and tossed his head in an attempt to drive the sensation away, but he could only cackle and accept his fate for the time being.
Fjord finally let him catch his breath a short while later, hands still in their attack position but with stilled fingers. “So…” he purred over the sounds of Caleb’s hiccuping gasps “What was the next one?”
Caleb had only a few breaths to collect himself, a little thrill of rebellion rising in his chest. “You were going to… hic… get the r-rope…”
“That’s right! Now I remember.” Fjord purred again, kissing a few stray tears of laughter away from Caleb’s face as he reached one arm between the mattress and the headboard to pull out a length of silken red rope (an absolutely mortifying gift from Marion Lavorre that had sparked quite the conversation about privacy) and wrap it around both of Caleb’s wrists.
The wizard sighed in relief as his deception went unnoticed, then quivered at the helpless stretch of his body. He hid his face in the bends of his arms while Fjord settled next to him.
“See, the only problem with this paintbrush idea…” Fjord mused, watching Caleb’s breath even out. “Is that you’re a fuckin liar and that’s not what I said next.”
Caleb managed one quick, panicked gasp as the accusation landed, but the unbearable scrape of a beard across the side of his ribcage drew it all out of him in a squeal.
“Aaaah! Nein! No! Stahp! ”
“Say ‘please tickle me Fjord’.”
“ Nahaha —” Caleb wheezed “ Can’t— can’t! Bitte!”
“Oh, that’s right, it was supposed to be your armpits, wasn’t it?” One strong hand gripped an elbow, pinning it next to one flushed cheek to stretch the thin skin beneath.
“ Nahahaha! ” Caleb shrieked as Fjord hovered his lips just above his underarm, warm breath already making the wizard’s entire body rigid with ticklish panic.
“Say iiiiiit” Fjord sing-songed, his words drawing out a fresh wave of hysterics. “Say it or I’ll stay like this forever…”
Caleb swallowed, gasped and hiccuped for a moment before finally choking out “ P-please tickle me, Fjord. ”
“Good boy…” Fjord’s voice was soothing, but he had to raise it to be heard over the screams of laughter that the gentle bump of his nose and soft brush of his lips ripped out of the wizard beneath him. “I am so proud of you. I’m going to tell Jester all about it, and she’ll be proud of you too.”
He kept it up for a few moments, even after he stopped showering Caleb with praise, applying a good nuzzle to the ticklish armpit before releasing the wizard to melt into a giggly puddle in the middle of his bed.
“Would have been so much easier if you’d just asked,” he murmured into ginger hair, “but you know that, didn’t you?”
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Caught in his web, Chapter 35
Loki was furious that Stones was still trying to get to Chloe. He had barely slept that night because he was so riled up about the situation. Not at all entirely because a certain puppy kept whining during the night…
But Loki was going to have to get rid of Stones sooner rather than later.
Chloe got up early to see to Bear. Then she crawled back into bed next to Loki. She rarely slept in her own room now, unless Loki was really late home from work and she was too tired.
‘You’re getting up in half an hour for college.’ Loki drawled, turning over onto his side to look at her.
She just grumbled in response. She was tired.
‘I didn’t think puppies would be so demanding.’ She said eventually.
Loki chuckled. ‘Not as demanding as I can be.’ He growled and slid his hand to the back of her head, holding her steady as he moved in and kissed her.
-
Chloe came home from college on Wednesday afternoon and was secretly delighted to find Loki was home from work. He and Pete were playing with Bear in the garden, that completely melted her heart.
A big buff, heavily tattooed and scary looking body guard, along with Loki, the most dangerous man in the city who was incredibly intimidating, were both completely melted by a tiny puppy and making cooing noises for him while rolling around in the grass.
She laughed to herself at the sight and then went to join them.
Once they’d tired Bear out, Loki and Chloe went inside while Pete went back to door duty till his shift was over.
Chloe could tell that Loki was in a horny mood… He kept touching her and sneaking kisses from her while she was sorting Bear out. Then during dinner, he slid his hand onto her thigh under the table and kept stroking dangerously high underneath her dress, making her squirm.
She didn’t help matters much because she was feeling it too a little. But the hungry look in his eyes was making her slightly nervous, wondering what exactly he was planning. Because she had a feeling it was going to be more than just a tumble under the sheets.
After dinner, Loki was quick to grab Bear and put him in his puppy pen for safety, then before Chloe could even stand up he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. She screeched and squirmed, but Loki just chuckled wickedly as he carried her upstairs to his bedroom.
‘I have plans for you, doll.’ He said darkly as he kicked the door shut behind him.
She gulped when he placed her down to her feet. He slid his hand through her hair, leaned in and kissed her, taking her breath away.
‘Turn around.’ He whispered over her lips.
Chloe did as she was told and turned her back to him.
‘Good girl.’ He purred, moving her hair out of the way so he could kiss her neck, making her knees turn weak.
‘Do you trust me?’ He asked, kissing along her shoulder, pushing the sleeve down out of the way as he went.
‘I do.’ She said quietly, trying to hide the fact she was a little nervous at that question, wondering what he had planned for her.
Loki grinned against her skin and pushed her sleeves right down her arms and off, letting her dress slowly fall down her body until it was down at her feet. He unclasped her bra at the back and pulled it off, then reached round her front to massage her breasts and tweak her nipples, making her gasp.
Loki crouched down behind her and slid her knickers down her legs, once they joined her dress at her feet, he took a playful bite of her bum, making her squeak in surprise.
He chuckled and slowly stood up, dragging his hands up her sides, making her break out in goosebumps. He took hold of her wrists and pulled them behind her, her stomach lurched when she felt him tying some rope around her wrists.
Loki made sure the rope was nice and snug around her wrists, not giving her any leeway. Then he guided her over to the bed and helped her on.
He manoeuvred her into the position he wanted. He pressed her upper back down, so her face was into the pillow but turned to the side so she could see him.
‘Bum up, doll.’ He said, patting her bum gently till she raised it up. Loki moved behind her and grabbed her hips, pulling her up a little further, then he pushed her legs wide apart so she was on display for him. ‘That’s it… perfect.’ He purred.
Chloe felt embarrassed with the position he had her in, she felt so exposed.
Loki stroked her bum for a while, then his attention moved further down. He cupped her gently at first, just allowed her to feel the heat from his hand against her cunt. Then he started to slide his fingers through her folds, making her whimper as she tried moving against him.
He chuckled. ‘You are so responsive to me, doll.’ He slid a finger over her clit, making it throb. ‘Your pussy knows who she belongs to.’
Chloe turned her face down into the pillow, her cheeks burning red from the way he was speaking.
Loki kept stroking her clit, making her more and more aroused, her breathing got heavier. He stopped paying direct attention to her clit after a while and slid two fingers into her once, just coating them. Then he trailed his fingers up to unknown territory…
‘Let’s find something else to claim.’ He hummed.
She gasped and tried to lurch forward when he touched her asshole, making Loki tut.
‘Keep still, Chloe. Don’t make me tie your legs down, too.’ He growled.
She flexed her fingers that were still restrained behind her and nervously tried to keep still. Loki used his knees to nudge her legs further open, they’d shuffled closed a little in her surprise.
He lightly stroked her again, she wasn’t sure what she thought or felt about the feeling. It was so foreign to her.
When he moved his hand away, she breathed out in relief. Not realising that she had been holding it for so long.
She heard a small click and, curiously, looked round as best she could to see what he was doing. She could just see him, he was pouring lube onto his fingers. She wondered when he had time to grab the bottle, she never noticed him disappearing.
Loki gave her a wink just before she turned her face back down into the pillow.
When he started stroking her again, she tensed up but he tried to ease her by stroking her lower back with his free hand.
‘Good girl, just keep nice and still.’ He hummed softly, taking hold of her tied wrists to keep her in place. He had a feeling she would try moving otherwise.
As soon as he started to press one finger into her back entrance, she cried out and tried to pull away. Loki tightened his grip on her hands and made sure she kept spread open with his knees in the way against her inner legs.
‘P… please not this!’ She whimpered, still trying to squirm away.
‘Shhh, shhh, doll. Relax your body and it will be much easier.’ He soothed in a firm but gentle tone.
Chloe tried to relax, but really struggled in doing so. Loki’s finger was well lubed though, so he managed to force it right into her. Once in, he kept still until she adjusted to him. Her breathing calmed a little and he knew she was starting to get accustomed to the feeling.
‘That’s my good girl.’ Loki let go of her wrists and was pleased that she stayed still, keeping her ass up in the air for him. He reached down and started stroking her clit again, keeping his other finger lodged inside of her ass.
When he felt her relax more, he started to wiggle his finger. Giving her a weird, yet delightful sensation that surprised her. She was actually slightly disappointed when he removed the finger from her so quickly. But he continued teasing her clit lightly, keeping her in a state of arousal.
Chloe was too far gone in the pleasure and her thoughts about what he was doing, that she never heard or noticed him unbuckling his belt and zipping his trousers down so he could take his cock out. He rubbed himself a few times then lined himself up with her cunt, then pushed in home.
She moaned and her hands fisted up behind her as he didn’t give her time to adjust to him and just started thrusting in and out slowly, hitting deep each time. She could feel every inch of him hitting everywhere, she didn’t think she would ever admit it outright to Loki, but she LOVED his cock. It always felt so good inside her.
With her being so wrapped up in the heavenly feeling of him thrusting into her slowly, she didn’t hear the click of the lube bottle again. It wasn’t until he took hold of her hands once more and forced his thumb inside of her ass that she squealed out loud and tried bucking him off, but that just lodged his thumb in deeper.
Loki moaned as he felt her tightening around him because of the way her body was reacting to the unwanted intrusion in her ass.
‘Easy.’ He cooed, continuing his rhythm and wiggling his thumb about a bit.
She bit the pillow, needing something to sink her teeth into since she couldn’t reach his skin. The new feeling was driving her mad. But there was something about it that she was starting to enjoy, the full feeling of the double penetration. Even if his thumb was tiny in contrast to what was in her cunt.
When he started fucking her with his thumb, in time with his cock, he very quickly had her moaning and trembling in pleasure.
‘Soon, you will be able to take my cock up this ass.’ He growled. That made her tense up again, but it didn’t last long with the way he was fucking her, the pace quickening as they both chased their release.
Chloe was pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts. Loki tightened his grip on her hands and used that as leverage to pull her back against him roughly, grunting and moaning above her.
When he started to cum, he forced himself as deep as he could, always enjoying filling her up. Feeling her walls clench and squeeze every drop possible out of him. She moaned with him, cumming at the same time.
She felt empty when he removed his thumb, but even more so when he slowly pulled out of her cunt too. A trail of cum oozing out of her.
He untied her wrists and lay down beside her. She flopped down, completely spent and exhausted. Loki smoothed her hair off her sweaty forehead and smiled as she looked at him, so dazed.
‘Have I ever told you how delightful your ass is?’ He grinned cheekily, making her laugh.
-
In the evening Chloe was watching a film with Loki. She had her legs draped over his lap and he was gently rubbing her lower legs, that felt heavenly. Bear was happily chewing a toy on the floor, not interested in anything else for a short while.
But Chloe kept thinking about Loki starting anal play with her earlier. It wasn’t something she had ever wanted to try, never mind even contemplate. He hadn’t stopped when she asked him to, but that wasn’t overly surprising. What was annoying her more, was the fact she wanted more… She wanted to try it again. And while the thought of Loki shoving his huge cock up there scared her, it also aroused her to think about.
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Prompt #19: To Keep a Promise (pick your own)
"Remember...remember us... Remember...that we once lived..."
His words had echoed in her mind as she'd embraced him, and felt him melt away into aether within her arms, his fading lifeforce searing the front of her armor into a blinding silver.
In those words she'd heard so many things... To remember herself, and who she'd been. To remember herself and Hades -- for so long Emet-Selch had been hinting at something between them, and she had already guessed what that might have been based on the sadness in his eyes each time she'd rebuffed his request to join him.
And, of course, to remember those who had once lived... An entire world, gone - shattered into the world Gaelle knew now, and into the First, and all the other shards.
She'd first returned to Amaurot, beneath the sea; the city still stood and, as she'd hoped, Hythlodaeus still remained aware enough to tell her that eventually the spell that had created the city would fade, and he with it, without Emet-Selch to maintain it. And with Hythlodaeus's additional help she'd discovered that while Emet-Selch had made the city look and feel alive, it was mostly superficial -- the insides of most buildings were hollow and empty, if one could get into them at all. What she saw on the surface, and what she could already access, was all there was to this Amaurot...there would be no hidden knowledge or history to preserve here, no matter how much she'd hoped and prayed for it.
((Continued below cut))
Elidibus had taken all but her own memory crystal with him when he'd been drawn and trapped inside the Crystal Tower so whatever they had held was now beyond her reach.
So...it remained that, to keep her promise to him, the only way to do so was to rely on Azem's spell, to pluck Emet-Selch - no, Hades - from the lifestream, as often as she could and as often as he would tolerate, to get the answers she'd needed.
Her first use of it had been in a panic, and he'd answered her call and saved them. The second time was weeks ago when she'd been trying to figure out how to naturally cast the spell; he'd appeared but she didn't know how to hold him there so she'd barely managed to tell him why she'd called, and gotten his permission to keep trying, before he'd faded away again.
She'd tried again, immediately, and hadn't been able to sense that connection to the crystal again. As much as she hadn't wanted to she'd approached Urianger and Y'shtola for help and, as she assumed she would, had to endure a lecture on why this was a terrible idea and was not safe to do. But...she had a promise to keep. Eventually they gave in and examined the spell, and taught her how to properly cast it (it assuaged their fears somewhat that Gaelle could dismiss him at any time with a thought, and they did have to admit the ability to summon in help from anywhere would be immeasurably useful considering they had Fandaniel to contend with still).
Aymeric, gods bless him, had been so understanding; worried at first too but once Gaelle had explained her reasons he'd wholeheartedly supported them and was willing to do whatever was within his power to help, including having a group of scribes standing ready to help her record the history of the ancients.
However, those first few times that she'd managed to properly summon Hades she'd done it alone, shut away in the small room Aymeric had designated for her use. He'd appeared as he'd once been, so long ago -- tall (dwarfing her in size), clad in dark robes, long flowing white hair, a face that resembled his Garlean one but was...softer, and lacking the third eye. His eyes were still golden but paler, and his skin was paler as well. But it was him, without doubt.
And it was during this first handful of times that she'd learned personal things - about herself, and about him, and their relationship to one another. She'd been Eos, once, and he Hades -- they had been a couple for several years before either of them had been raised to a seat on the Convocation. She'd been his morning star, and he her slumbering lord. The earring he wore - a detail that had been present in every version of himself - had been a pair once, and Gaelle had worn the other...after the world was sundered it had been the only surviving physical reminder of her, and despite how Zodiark's will often pressed in on him to discard it and all distractions, Hades hadn't been able to part with it.
...and Zodiark... Hades's death had freed him of tempering. That was all he wanted (or could bear) to say on the matter, and had grown quite upset when she'd tried to press him for more details. She could understand that, she supposed... Even before their final confrontation she'd wondered how much he'd done (as Emet-Selch) that he perhaps wouldn't have done if his mind had been his own. It was clear that now, free of the primal's influence, he was acutely aware of all his sufferings, traumas, cruelties, and all he'd done to try and piece the world back together...little wonder he didn't want to talk about it.
But he was more than willing to talk about them, and the love they'd shared, and the nonsense they'd gotten up to with Hythlodaeus, or Mitron, or even Lahabrea. He was willing to speak on day to day life in Amaurot, and what sorts of creatures inhabited the world naturally and which the Convocation had created and why.
He was willing to talk about all of it, so long as he didn't have to admit to or confront anything he'd done in Zodiark's name.
Tonight was the nineteenth time she'd summoned him; he had his back against her knees and, as he spoke, sometimes leaned back into her lap to look up at her. She could barely detect something of substance where he pressed against her -- it was as light and delicate-feeling as a spider's web, and his head took up her entire lap considering the size difference between them.
She'd chosen not to have scribes with her tonight and her hand was cramping terribly; Hades spoke more, and also was more personable, when it was just the two of them. Gaelle could tell she was reaching the end of her endurance regarding the spell and knew she would have to dismiss him soon.
At her feet Hades stirred and sat up. "I can tell you're tired."
"Can you?"
He offered her one of his half-smiles. "No. But what I CAN tell is the passing of time and you've been holding me here for some time. Even you have your limits, Gaelle."
She rolled her eyes with a smile. "That is a line that keeps changing... But you're right, unfortunately. I AM tired."
"Then away with me so we both can sleep -- still my favorite means to pass the time, after all."
She smiled and sat the quill down, and massaged one hand with the other. "You don't truly NEED sleep, do you? Calling you here doesn't exhaust you in some manner, does it?"
He shook his head. "Death is and is not sleep. It's close enough for my liking."
With a nod Gaelle closed her eyes and let him go; she opened them in time to catch one of his little half-smiles and then, she was alone.
Flexing her hand Gaelle looked over the hastily written notes - it was hard to keep up with Hades as he spoke and she didn't want to have to waste time having him repeat himself. The writing was at least legible enough that the scribes could read and organize it with everything else; she stacked it all into a neat pile and tucked it under her arm as she stood.
She wobbled a bit as she walked through the house proper and soon had Aymeric's manservant helping her into a chair in the dining hall where he relieved her of the stack of notes and brought her tea. Aymeric would return from the House of Lords soon, she was assured, and dinner would not be long after.
As she relaxed into the chair she tucked the necklace that bore her memory crystal back underneath her tunic and wrapped both hands around the cup of tea; the warmth lessened the ache in her hand so for a time she was content to sit and hold it while she waited for Aymeric to come home. She had a lot to share with him tonight and she hoped that while she'd been busy chasing after the past that Aymeric wouldn't be bearing news of a grim future.
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The Takedown | Part Two
Pairing: Mob!Tom Holland x Detective Reader
Summary: NYC has a new drug lord determined to wipe out any and all competition in order to grow his empire. You're going undercover to stop him.
Warnings: Couple of threats, mentions of drugs and violence but nothing detailed
Notes: You can find the first part here | Part One
I'm posting this a little ahead of time because work is chaotic right now. Part Three is underway and I'm hoping to get each part posted on Fridays from now on but please bear with if this falls through as it is work dependant!
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Part 2 – 1,494 Words
The alley reeked of hot trash even in the evening air. I did my best to breathe through my mouth as I sidestepped bags that hadn’t made it into the dumpsters and edged my way around the fetid puddles lining the path. Yanking my jacket sleeve back, I checked the time on my battered watch. I was ten minutes early. It gave me time to scout the site and ensure no unwanted visitors were hanging around.
This was my first meeting with someone other than a fellow street dealer since I’d gone undercover two months ago. I'd gotten into trading easy enough, pulling the strings of an informant to get me hooked onto the lowest rung of the web. Now all I had to do was keep moving my way up, weave myself into the inner circle. Prove my skills could be put to better use in commanding my own team so that I could get closer to Holland.
The meeting had been the jolt that I’d needed to stay on track. The first month had been gruelling, not just physically. The mental override I’d needed to go through in order to push my morals aside, to spread a substance I’d swore to keep off the streets had been a battle. It still didn’t sit comfortably with me. Each new face I sold to felt like a massive step in the wrong direction, but it was a necessary evil. If I was to do this I had to play the part without fault. Any interaction with the law and I’d be finished along with the investigation.
The end of the alley opened into an empty parking lot backed by a derelict block of apartments. If I had the energy to I’d laugh at the predictability of it. Instead, I propped myself against the nearest wall, allowing myself a brief rest. Constantly prowling about at night, pacing street after street had ruined my body's sleep schedule. Not that I’d had one working on the force.
I slid out my phone and used the camera to check out my surroundings. Zooming into the gaping windows of the building I tried to appear relaxed, tried to keep any tension out of my body language as I surreptitiously scanned the area for movement. I wasn’t naive enough to think that this would be a simple, friendly conversation.
The low purr of an engine broke through the relative silence of the back street. A sleek black Chrysler was reversing into the opening. Scanning the license plate I noted it was one of the newest models. From the informants reports the next rung on the ladder was a Runner; someone who obtained a set amount of drugs from a higher source and handed it out to certain dealers on the streets. It was a step up in the sense that they no longer needed to sell, but not enough in way of profit gain to justify owning what was idling a few feet from me. I’d yet to come across a Runner personally. Being new to the ‘industry’ I had been kept in the dark until I could prove I could keep my mouth shut. I was hoping this meeting would tell me who ran the drugs I was selling and help me piece together exactly how this operation was being run.
The driver and passenger door opened simultaneously. Despite knowing I’d be outnumbered my stomach still sank a little at the confirmation. The first to emerge fit the typical dealer profile; shaved head, stoic expression, neck tattoo that dipped out of sight under a loose black hoodie. He ticked all the boxes except he held himself better. Usually dealers like a taste of the product. It makes them paranoid, shifty in every situation as they wait their next fix. He didn’t have any of the tells that accompanied being a user, but he did have a swagger to his walk that told me ‘ex-con’.
The second man climbed from the driver side of the car, his lip curling at the stench of trash. Dressed in a tailored black suit with gleaming dress shoes I knew I was dealing with someone with a much higher status than I’d been prepared for. He sharply tugged at the ends of his sleeves to straighten out any wrinkles, narrowed eyes scanning the alley before he signalled his accomplice with a nod.
Pushing off the wall I pocketed my phone and kept my hands in their line of sight. My skin prickled with apprehension as they approached. In my mind I ran through the key players we had case files for. Unfortunately both these men were so cliché that they would have fit several, if not all, of the descriptions I’d memorised. I resisted the urge to square my shoulders as they stopped before me. The ex-con crossed his arms, a deliberate flex to warn me he was there as muscle while the other tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, and proceeded to give me the once over with a blank look.
“I won’t lie you’re not exactly what I was expecting from someone who’s causing me so much trouble,” he eventually said. Dread trickled into the pit of my stomach.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I tried to keep my voice even.
“Those bruises on your face say otherwise.”
I held back a grimace. I’d done my best to conceal the worst of the marks with some drug store makeup. Come night they’d barely be noticeable, but with the late evening sun still lingering high in the sky they stood out more than I wanted.
“I’m within my right to defend myself.” As much as I tried to resist I found myself folding my arms, careful to avoid the bruising on my chest that couldn’t be seen. His eyes glinted as they followed the movement.
“In a normal situation yes, but not when it creates an issue in my operation. I’m four dealers down because of you.” He walked closer, leisurely starting to circle me as he spoke. Suddenly the name clicked; Sam Arnold. Despite having notes to say he’d been seen associating with known players we’d not been able to prove he was involved. Now here he was, stating he ran the Lower East Side.
“Tell me, did you think there wouldn’t be consequences to losing me so many players? Did you think you’d be able to just keep selling in my borough?” He stopped behind me. Images of the four men he was referring to crawled from the dark corner in my mind where I’d shoved them. They were all dealers in the area who’d decided they didn’t want any more opposition; they tried to ‘put me out of business.’ They hadn’t been expecting me to fight back, but I did, though not to the extent that would keep them off the streets as this man was suggesting. Which only meant one thing; he’d killed them. My blood ran cold as the reality sank in.
As if sensing the connection I’d made he leaned in, breath hot against my neck. “I don’t tolerate dissent in my area. It draws attention. People start to ask questions. I can’t have people asking questions.” I bit the inside of my cheek, hands fisting to hold back.
I’d known this case was going to be dangerous. I’d dealt with most of the bodies from the turf war. I knew what I was up against. I repeated the thoughts until my heart rate slowed enough to think logically. I had to turn this around, work it to my advantage. If he was who he implied I had to make an impression he, and Holland, couldn’t overlook.
“They worked the same streets I did. I know who their regulars are and I know the area better than anyone you could bring in, I can shift their supplies.”
His sidekick shot a look over my shoulder, lips tightening. Finishing his tour he stood before me, icy blue eyes scouring my face. He was trying to assess whether I was lying.
“Had it been any other day I wouldn’t entertain your kind, but I’m pressed to keep on target, so you have until the end of the month. I want it all gone.” The ‘or else’ hung in the air. “Tate, here, will oversee you,” he tipped his head towards the other man, “no need to worry about contacting him. He’ll arrange the delivery and tell you where and when to collect it.”
I nodded mutely.
“Good,” he smiled, his eyes staying cold. “I’ll see you in twelve days.” With that he stalked back to the car. Tate lingered until he heard the driver door closing before following. As the sound of the engine faded I let my shoulders drop with a sigh. There was no feasible way I could do this myself. I’d have to recruit help. Luckily, I had an idea of where to start.
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Part Three is here!
Taglist:
@spideylovin
@lukesbabylon
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Caught in his web, Chapter 35
TITLE: Caught in his web
CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 35
AUTHOR: fanficshiddles
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is a crime lord, a very dangerous man in the city. He is owed money, but the man is unable to pay Loki back, so Loki takes his daughter as payment instead.
RATING: M
Loki was furious that Stones was still trying to get to Chloe. He had barely slept that night because he was so riled up about the situation. Not at all entirely because a certain puppy kept whining during the night…
But Loki was going to have to get rid of Stones sooner rather than later.
Chloe got up early to see to Bear. Then she crawled back into bed next to Loki. She rarely slept in her own room now, unless Loki was really late home from work and she was too tired.
‘You’re getting up in half an hour for college.’ Loki drawled, turning over onto his side to look at her.
She just grumbled in response. She was tired.
‘I didn’t think puppies would be so demanding.’ She said eventually.
Loki chuckled. ‘Not as demanding as I can be.’ He growled and slid his hand to the back of her head, holding her steady as he moved in and kissed her.
-
Chloe came home from college on Wednesday afternoon and was secretly delighted to find Loki was home from work. He and Pete were playing with Bear in the garden, that completely melted her heart.
A big buff, heavily tattooed and scary looking body guard, along with Loki, the most dangerous man in the city who was incredibly intimidating, were both completely melted by a tiny puppy and making cooing noises for him while rolling around in the grass.
She laughed to herself at the sight and then went to join them.
Once they’d tired Bear out, Loki and Chloe went inside while Pete went back to door duty till his shift was over.
Chloe could tell that Loki was in a horny mood… He kept touching her and sneaking kisses from her while she was sorting Bear out. Then during dinner, he slid his hand onto her thigh under the table and kept stroking dangerously high underneath her dress, making her squirm.
She didn’t help matters much because she was feeling it too a little. But the hungry look in his eyes was making her slightly nervous, wondering what exactly he was planning. Because she had a feeling it was going to be more than just a tumble under the sheets.
After dinner, Loki was quick to grab Bear and put him in his puppy pen for safety, then before Chloe could even stand up he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. She screeched and squirmed, but Loki just chuckled wickedly as he carried her upstairs to his bedroom.
‘I have plans for you, doll.’ He said darkly as he kicked the door shut behind him.
She gulped when he placed her down to her feet. He slid his hand through her hair, leaned in and kissed her, taking her breath away.
‘Turn around.’ He whispered over her lips.
Chloe did as she was told and turned her back to him.
‘Good girl.’ He purred, moving her hair out of the way so he could kiss her neck, making her knees turn weak.
‘Do you trust me?’ He asked, kissing along her shoulder, pushing the sleeve down out of the way as he went.
‘I do.’ She said quietly, trying to hide the fact she was a little nervous at that question, wondering what he had planned for her.
Loki grinned against her skin and pushed her sleeves right down her arms and off, letting her dress slowly fall down her body until it was down at her feet. He unclasped her bra at the back and pulled it off, then reached round her front to massage her breasts and tweak her nipples, making her gasp.
Loki crouched down behind her and slid her knickers down her legs, once they joined her dress at her feet, he took a playful bite of her bum, making her squeak in surprise.
He chuckled and slowly stood up, dragging his hands up her sides, making her break out in goosebumps. He took hold of her wrists and pulled them behind her, her stomach lurched when she felt him tying some rope around her wrists.
Loki made sure the rope was nice and snug around her wrists, not giving her any leeway. Then he guided her over to the bed and helped her on.
He manoeuvred her into the position he wanted. He pressed her upper back down, so her face was into the pillow but turned to the side so she could see him.
‘Bum up, doll.’ He said, patting her bum gently till she raised it up. Loki moved behind her and grabbed her hips, pulling her up a little further, then he pushed her legs wide apart so she was on display for him. ‘That’s it… perfect.’ He purred.
Chloe felt embarrassed with the position he had her in, she felt so exposed.
Loki stroked her bum for a while, then his attention moved further down. He cupped her gently at first, just allowed her to feel the heat from his hand against her cunt. Then he started to slide his fingers through her folds, making her whimper as she tried moving against him.
He chuckled. ‘You are so responsive to me, doll.’ He slid a finger over her clit, making it throb. ‘Your pussy knows who she belongs to.’
Chloe turned her face down into the pillow, her cheeks burning red from the way he was speaking.
Loki kept stroking her clit, making her more and more aroused, her breathing got heavier. He stopped paying direct attention to her clit after a while and slid two fingers into her once, just coating them. Then he trailed his fingers up to unknown territory…
‘Let’s find something else to claim.’ He hummed.
She gasped and tried to lurch forward when he touched her asshole, making Loki tut.
‘Keep still, Chloe. Don’t make me tie your legs down, too.’ He growled.
She flexed her fingers that were still restrained behind her and nervously tried to keep still. Loki used his knees to nudge her legs further open, they’d shuffled closed a little in her surprise.
He lightly stroked her again, she wasn’t sure what she thought or felt about the feeling. It was so foreign to her.
When he moved his hand away, she breathed out in relief. Not realising that she had been holding it for so long.
She heard a small click and, curiously, looked round as best she could to see what he was doing. She could just see him, he was pouring lube onto his fingers. She wondered when he had time to grab the bottle, she never noticed him disappearing.
Loki gave her a wink just before she turned her face back down into the pillow.
When he started stroking her again, she tensed up but he tried to ease her by stroking her lower back with his free hand.
‘Good girl, just keep nice and still.’ He hummed softly, taking hold of her tied wrists to keep her in place. He had a feeling she would try moving otherwise.
As soon as he started to press one finger into her back entrance, she cried out and tried to pull away. Loki tightened his grip on her hands and made sure she kept spread open with his knees in the way against her inner legs.
‘P… please not this!’ She whimpered, still trying to squirm away.
‘Shhh, shhh, doll. Relax your body and it will be much easier.’ He soothed in a firm but gentle tone.
Chloe tried to relax, but really struggled in doing so. Loki’s finger was well lubed though, so he managed to force it right into her. Once in, he kept still until she adjusted to him. Her breathing calmed a little and he knew she was starting to get accustomed to the feeling.
‘That’s my good girl.’ Loki let go of her wrists and was pleased that she stayed still, keeping her ass up in the air for him. He reached down and started stroking her clit again, keeping his other finger lodged inside of her ass.
When he felt her relax more, he started to wiggle his finger. Giving her a weird, yet delightful sensation that surprised her. She was actually slightly disappointed when he removed the finger from her so quickly. But he continued teasing her clit lightly, keeping her in a state of arousal.
Chloe was too far gone in the pleasure and her thoughts about what he was doing, that she never heard or noticed him unbuckling his belt and zipping his trousers down so he could take his cock out. He rubbed himself a few times then lined himself up with her cunt, then pushed in home.
She moaned and her hands fisted up behind her as he didn’t give her time to adjust to him and just started thrusting in and out slowly, hitting deep each time. She could feel every inch of him hitting everywhere, she didn’t think she would ever admit it outright to Loki, but she LOVED his cock. It always felt so good inside her.
With her being so wrapped up in the heavenly feeling of him thrusting into her slowly, she didn’t hear the click of the lube bottle again. It wasn’t until he took hold of her hands once more and forced his thumb inside of her ass that she squealed out loud and tried bucking him off, but that just lodged his thumb in deeper.
Loki moaned as he felt her tightening around him because of the way her body was reacting to the unwanted intrusion in her ass.
‘Easy.’ He cooed, continuing his rhythm and wiggling his thumb about a bit.
She bit the pillow, needing something to sink her teeth into since she couldn’t reach his skin. The new feeling was driving her mad. But there was something about it that she was starting to enjoy, the full feeling of the double penetration. Even if his thumb was tiny in contrast to what was in her cunt.
When he started fucking her with his thumb, in time with his cock, he very quickly had her moaning and trembling in pleasure.
‘Soon, you will be able to take my cock up this ass.’ He growled. That made her tense up again, but it didn’t last long with the way he was fucking her, the pace quickening as they both chased their release.
Chloe was pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts. Loki tightened his grip on her hands and used that as leverage to pull her back against him roughly, grunting and moaning above her.
When he started to cum, he forced himself as deep as he could, always enjoying filling her up. Feeling her walls clench and squeeze every drop possible out of him. She moaned with him, cumming at the same time.
She felt empty when he removed his thumb, but even more so when he slowly pulled out of her cunt too. A trail of cum oozing out of her.
He untied her wrists and lay down beside her. She flopped down, completely spent and exhausted. Loki smoothed her hair off her sweaty forehead and smiled as she looked at him, so dazed.
‘Have I ever told you how delightful your ass is?’ He grinned cheekily, making her laugh.
-
In the evening Chloe was watching a film with Loki. She had her legs draped over his lap and he was gently rubbing her lower legs, that felt heavenly. Bear was happily chewing a toy on the floor, not interested in anything else for a short while.
But Chloe kept thinking about Loki starting anal play with her earlier. It wasn’t something she had ever wanted to try, never mind even contemplate. He hadn’t stopped when she asked him to, but that wasn’t overly surprising. What was annoying her more, was the fact she wanted more… She wanted to try it again. And while the thought of Loki shoving his huge cock up there scared her, it also aroused her to think about.
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Face to Unfamiliar Face - Pt 5
by @10moonymhrivertam
Logan did not have as much time as he would’ve liked to bask in Virgil’s presence, with the threat of Greta hanging over them.
“Bruderspinne.” Thomas rubbed his eyes and smiled. Logan looked him over, but it seemed he was choosing to use the nickname instead of being influenced into it.
“Thomas.” Virgil dropped his hand to cross the room. “Let me see if I can dull her for you. That’s…a lot to have in your head.”
Thomas looked wary. “It’s the only warning we’ll have when she realizes where we are.”
Virgil seemed to twitch at the denial of an opportunity to help his family. “Maybe we don’t have to worry about her finding us. We have the technology to - to speed run this.”
“Do we?” Logan asked, before processing the end of Virgil’s sentence. Fond exasperation filled him. “What on Earth is Patton showing you in your downtime?”
There was a soft noise behind them and Logan turned to see the local Patton. His chest constricted with a maelstrom of emotions - anger at the Serpent King that Patton had never been taught; a grief that this Patton seemed to have almost shut his voice away entirely; plus, an entirely illogical guilt, probably based in knowing it was his absence that had led to the difference. He held out a hand. It was a moment before Patton took it. Logan squeezed it reassuringly.
“Pat, this is Virgil. The Spider Prince of the forest. He’s from mine and Thomas’ place, although he has a duplicate here. He’s just asleep at the moment.”
“Hey, Pat.” Virgil smiled. Pat ducked his head.
“Your duplicate is with him at the moment, to learn more about having a siren’s voice.” Patton flinched, and Logan squeezed his hand apologetically. He turned his attention back to Virgil, his thumb absently stroking across the back of Patton’s hand.
“What were you trying to say with the speed running metaphor?”
“I’m not connected to such a sick forest this time. This one’s still sick, but I’m holding onto the right version of Mom magically. Between them, I should be able to move through the shadows without a problem. And this time we know we need the ring.”
“No!” Logan cried, monkshood sprouting from the floorboards. May shouted. He refused to pay her any mind.
“Why not?”
“Because the only reason we caught any kind of drop on him before was Night Roman!”
“But with this place’s Spider Prince asleep, he has no reason to know I’m here. He won’t expect it.”
“Fine, but what if his reflexes are faster than you’re counting on?”
“Web him down and run like hell?”
“That is not a plan, Virgil!”
“And bluffing and trusting Night Roman was? This might not be my Greta, but she’s hurting, Logan!”
Logan went quiet and shared a glance with Thomas. His eyes were gently reproachful, and Logan sighed through his nose and cast his eyes to the floor.
“There’s a chance there’s a…factual error in that statement, Virge,” Thomas murmured. Virgil’s silence was painfully heavy. “When she was getting into my head at the graveyard, I - I saw…um, the King and Roman were standing near each other. You were back with Logan…and when she had me talk, I wasn’t just - asking where you were.”
“Again, and again, and again,” Logan quoted softly. “Not again.”
“Are - are you telling me that is my sister?” Virgil croaked, barely sounding human.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Logan conceded.
“Then I have to, Logan.”
Logan’s shoulders sagged. He nodded. “But be careful, Virgil. I don’t want to lose you to him.”
Virgil moved in quickly for a kiss to his forehead. “I will,” he promised. Then he gathered the shadows around him, and was gone. Thomas was there almost instantly to hold his free hand, and Patton shuffled closer to lean his head on Logan’s shoulder.
**
Virgil sank into the shadows, his heartbeat picking up. Logan was right. This was dangerous. But what other choice did they have without a set-up that could take years? Greta was angry, and scared, and tired. Virgil couldn’t rely on what had been coincidence the first time to be what got her out now.
He could feel the shape of the Court ahead. The usurped throne - would he have cared about losing it, he wondered distantly, if Dee had just respected the balance? - was his focus. When he joined the light again, he had a split second to be relieved that Dee was predictable: making a spectacle of himself on the throne, as expected. Then, Dee’s eyes fixed on him and went wide. Virgil lunged for his hand. Dee jerked backwards, and Virgil crashed after him, knocking them both to the ground. Virgil got a grip on his hand - the wrong one, but suitable for his purposes - and bared his teeth.
A fist slammed into the side of his face, and he flailed, trying to catch the hand that had done it as he was knocked away from the arm he’d managed to bite. He was able, just barely, to catch Dee’s wrist, and he grabbed roughly at his hand, uncaring of how the ring got off his finger, so long as it did. When Virgil felt it slip off, he clenched his hand tight and rolled back into the shadows. He wasn’t sure he had ever been relieved in his life that Dee apparently couldn’t hear Mother, but if he couldn’t hear her, then he certainly couldn’t ask her for the favor of transportation. He lay there, panting, terrified - did his venom even work on Dee? He had intended for it to. What kind of brother did that make him, even with the murdering and manipulation Dee had done? He closed his eyes against the thoughts - the knowledge that he felt worst about his absence of feeling over the deed itself - and pushed himself to his feet. He had to hurry, in case the venom didn’t work. Clearly, Dee knew he never had to look much farther than the Gage’s for him.
He was glad to find himself alone in the backyard when he stepped out of the shadows. He stared at the ring in his hand, hating what he knew would come next.
“Logan?” It was soft, but he knew Fae ears would pick it up. He didn’t quite expect to summon everyone out onto the lawn, but he would live with it. Logan broke off from the group and stepped to his side, staring at the ring in his hand. Logan cupped his hand around Virgil’s and looked up into his face. Virgil broke his gaze to look back down at his hand. Slowly, he began to close his fist. Logan’s hand curled with his. Virgil thought he could feel his heart break when the ring gave. At least the flash of light didn’t allow him to dwell on it. He shielded his eyes, his heart beating too fast.
When he lowered his arm, his eyes fixed on the flickering figure on the lawn. Her claws were flexing, as though she expected Dee to be right there. She was blinking rapidly, at least in terms of reptilian eyes. Virgil was fixed in place - the first time, with all that had been going on, he’d been so upset that there had been no time to say anything. Now he couldn’t think of anything to say.
Logan’s hands fell away from his, and his boyfriend stepped forward.
“Mrs. Fischer?” He probed. Her head swung in his direction, and she blinked again. “Are you okay?”
“I am…confused,” she admitted.
“How so?”
“The ring had been broken. Bruderspinne was okay. But then, I thought it must have been a dream or delusion, because - he had it again.” Her wings ruffled. “I had been so certain that I had found him again, my brother. But he was nowhere. He was still sleeping. She hid him from me, but I had to find him. I had to help him. The dream taught me that I was enough unlike myself for Herr Natter to have trouble holding onto me. So I went looking…”
“He’s here, ma’am.” Logan stepped aside a little to gesture at Virgil. Her gaze settled on him, and she slowly stilled.
“You feel like the dream. But…it wasn’t a dream, was it?”
“Not quite, Greta,” Virgil managed.
“Where is the brother of this place?”
“Still asleep.”
Greta’s wings ruffled.
“But I sincerely doubt he will be for much longer,” Logan assured her. She took a moment to still again, and silence settled heavily.
“Are you safe, Bruderspinne?”
“Safe?” He echoed, confused.
“Herr Natter. You took the ring from him. Surely he can’t have been pleased.”
“I…bit him.” Virgil was glad his Patton and Roman weren’t here to hear that.
“So he’s lingering.” Greta flexed her claws again.
“I won’t stop you, if you want to make sure he doesn’t.” A twinge of feeling from his mother, but nothing strong enough to interpret as a scolding.
“I believe I will.” She dug her claws into the dirt, and her wings unfurled.
“Wait!” He blurted. But, when she looked back at him, he had no idea what he was going to say. He was frozen, until Logan took his hand.
“…Goodbye, Mrs. Fischer.”
“Goodbye, Grettie.” His voice was thick and bordering on sounding inhuman, but he wasn’t sure he could care. Greta was silent for a few heartbeats. She relaxed her wings to lean in close and press her scaly face against him.
“It has been good to know you, Bruderspinne.” One heartbeat more, and then her wings sent a gust of wind through the yard, and she was gone. Virgil fell to his knees, feeling like a puppet with cut strings. Saying goodbye was such a relief, but it was so much more final than simply watching her disappear. Logan knelt beside him, rubbing his back and murmuring to him. Frost and snowdrops mingled on the lawn as Virgil cried.
—
V: oh did a bitch choke up Moony, you cut me!!! you cut me deep!!!!!
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Little Family, Ch. 15
Chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
FF.net
AO3
“Shippo.”
The kitsune jumped up in fright as his name was called from behind him. Whirling around, so fast he became slightly dizzy, Shippo looked at who had called him.
Inuyasha stood there, his arms crossed and his feet firmly planted. He looked down at the boy in front of him, regarding his tense posture with concealed worry.
Inuyasha didn’t move a muscle as he spoke again, “Where have you been, runt?”
Shippo, still partially taken aback by his surprise visitor, opened and shut his mouth a few times. His eyes were wide as they looked into the older man’s ones, concerned suddenly for what he was going to say. His mind began to spin different excuses, ones he thought might be slightly more plausible than the next, but he knew that Inuyasha would see through all of them.
So, he deflected a different way.
“I want to level up on my next test, so I’ve been practicing. Today, I’m working on my concealment charms!” Shippo twisted his face as best as he could from shock to what he hoped was excitement. “Wanna see me vanish?”
Before Shippo could release a veil of smoke, Inuyasha stepped forward and picked him up by the back of his shirt and lifted him to his sightline.
Looking the fox dead in the eye, Inuyasha said with finality, “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Shippo quickly adverted his eyes, not wanting to meet Inuyasha’s gaze, nor have Inuyasha realize what had been on his mind.
“Don’t know what you’re going on about, dog breath. I’ve been around.”
Inuyasha watched Shippo carefully. He had seen the dark cloud in the small boy’s eyes and knew there was a deeper problem at hand here.
Why had Kagome insisted he was the one to go? Kagome could have helped Shippo much better than him.
Inuyasha inhaled deeply, his nostrils flexing wide. Shippo heard the noise, and immediately braced for the inevitable outburst from Inuyasha.
However, it never came.
Inuyasha could smell the stress, fear, and anxiety that had become woven into Shippo’s scent recently. Whenever he could catch a trail of the fox kit in the village, those were the three emotions he could detect he best. Shippo hadn’t been easy to track down, that was for sure, but Inuyasha was nothing if not persistent when he needed to be.
Shippo hadn’t been seen around the village the last few weeks. When Koji had initially come home, he was terrified of his older brother. Kagome had tried to ease the tension between the two, offering sweet words of comfort to both boys and trying to foster a better relationship between them.
It was Miroku who suggested that perhaps Koji was afraid of Shippo because he was a full-blooded demon, and since there was absolutely no way of knowing what demons had done to the boy, time was the only cure to the stressed relationship.
Miroku offered his home to the kitsune until things were easier, and Koji wasn’t so afraid.
Inuyasha and Kagome were heartbroken at the thought of Shippo not being able to stay with them, but the sheer fear that consumed Koji when Shippo was near also tore at them.
Shippo, seeing how distraught his adoptive parents were, as well as how scared his adoptive brother was, put on a brave face and agreed to stay with Miroku and Sango for a little while.
Inuyasha saw the hurt Shippo tried to hide, and Kagome assured it was only going to be for a little while, but Shippo knew what he needed to do.
He needed to grow up and be on his own.
Inuyasha watched the small body, dangling from his fist in almost too smalls clothes, go limp with resignation. He had a sneaking suspicion what Shippo had been up to lately, making himself scarce to everyone in the village to the point the men were commenting how the missed the mischief and the women were busy gossiping their worries around.
Inuyasha exhaled, trying his best to keep his temper in check. “Tell me the truth, Shippo.”
Shippo shook his head violently, refusing to meet Inuyasha’s gaze.
“Shippo.”
“You wouldn’t understand, Inuyasha! You wouldn’t!” Shippo shouted, tears suddenly breaking from his eyes, despite him squeezing them shut at the start of his outburst. Sobs wracked his whole body, still being held in the air by Inuyasha.
The kitsune raised his fists to his eyes and pressed hard, trying to stop the tears. However, he couldn’t do a thing about the shuttering gasps and anguished cries that left his throat.
Inuyasha’s ears quickly pulled back as he looked at the boy in astonishment. The distress that Shippo was going through was something all too familiar to him. If anyone would understand, it would be him.
But maybe Shippo didn’t know that.
Inuyasha dropped dramatically to the ground, sitting crisscrossed and place Shippo into his lap. Shippo buried his head into Inuyasha’s knee, curling into himself while hysterics overtook him.
Inuyasha placed one hand on the boy’s back, patting gently as he often did with Koji, and rested the other on Shippo’s head. He was otherwise silent.
Shippo eventually relaxed as the tension and fear that had been dwelling deep into his heart finally subsided after weeks of spinning webs around his mind. He tried to take deep breaths and force himself to relax more, hoping he could manage to put on a brave face again.
But deep down he knew, Inuyasha would see right past it.
Inuyasha waited until Shippo pulled himself up to a seated position, lifting his hands from the child as he did, before speaking. “Kagome wants you to have dinner with us.”
Shippo twisted and put his feet on the ground, ready to leave. He shook his head, but failed to form words.
“We’re your family, Shippo. Nothing’s going to change that.”
Shippo tried to stand, but Inuyasha placed a hand on his head to keep the boy seated. Frustration welled up in Shippo’s chest as the restriction, causing him to cry out, “Koji is too scared of me! I can’t go to dinner! I can’t be around anymore!”
Inuyasha picked Shippo up under his arms and turned him around to be able to speak to his face. Shippo watched, his mind stopping at the difference in Inuyasha. Before, Inuyasha would normally have lost his temper and given into the fight that Shippo was trying to pick. But he wasn’t. He was remaining calm and ignoring the fight churning around them.
“Nonsense. You are Koji’s older brother and you will stick around.” Inuyasha looked Shippo in the eye, this time not allowing Shippo to look away. “Koji needs you, as much as you need him. You will not leave.”
Shippo stood finally, his feet finding ground between Inuyasha’s folded legs, his height changing the angle of the stare down, but not the intensity. “He’s like you! I’m not!” Shippo’s small hand beat against his chest in frustration and hurt. “I don’t belong here anymore! Why don’t you get that? Are you too dumb to understand that?”
Inuyasha’s lips pressed tightly together and his eyes narrowed. Shippo watched as his jaw clenched, the muscles dancing underneath the skin. Inuyasha’s eyebrow ticked in the air, and Shippo felt an odd sense of relief.
This was familiar.
He waited for Inuyasha to whirl an insult back, ready to fight and finally have the one good reason he left.
Inuyasha watched Shippo carefully. He wanted to desperately to tell him that no, he, Inuyasha, wasn’t the one who was too dumb, but it was him, Shippo, who was far to stupid for his own good.
But picking that fight would go nowhere.
Gritting his teeth, Inuyasha asked the boy, standing fiercely between his legs, with his hands in tight fists and his eyes betraying his fear, “Why are you doing this?”
Shippo blinked. This was not the reaction he was looking for.
Inuyasha repeated, “Shippo, why are you doing this?”
The rage that had pushed him this far flooded from his body, and Shippo felt his shoulders and tail drop. He looked down at Inuyasha’s throat, unsure of how to answer the older man’s question.
Inuyasha took Shippo’s chin in his hand and lifted his face to look at him again. “Why, Shippo? Why are you doing this?”
Shippo’s voice was weak and cracked as he spoke. “You don’t want me anymore.”
Inuyasha had a feeling this was what was going on. He had felt this way before, and had acted very similarly to Shippo. He mentally braced himself for the conversation he was about to have with the small boy in front of him. “That’s not true, Shippo.”
Shippo sniffled, the tears from before rising to the surface once again. “Yes, it is. You have a kid who’s just like you. And – and - he doesn’t talk back to you or insult you. He…he doesn’t make you mad, or – or – make you sad, or pull….pranks on you. And! He’s nicer and cuter. And,” Shippo’s voice quivered as the tears fell down while he reviled his deepest fear, “he’s better than me.”
Inuyasha listened carefully, waiting until Shippo had stopped talking before speaking, “He’s not better than you Shippo.”
Shippo shook his head, pulling it out of Inuyasha’s grasp, but Inuyasha spoke before he could protest.
“Family is made up of many people. You’re one part of our family, Shippo. Without you, we’re incomplete.”
The finality in his voice forced Shippo to give up the fight. He dropped his chin down to his chest and sniffled, wiping his hands across his face. Inuyasha gently pulled the child into his arms, and embraced him.
Shippo returned the gesture, reaching his hands up to rest on Inuyasha’s shoulder blades. He kept his head tucked low, but turned his face to press his cheek against Inuyasha’s chest.
A year prior, such an exchange between the two of them would have been unheard of. But so much had changed recently, that it felt natural to them.
“Kagome’s been really worried about you, Shippo.” Inuyasha’s voice vibrated deep in his chest, making it so that Shippo felt, as well as heard, what he was saying.
Inuyasha quietly added, “Maybe I have been too.”
Shippo choked out, emotions still overwhelming him, “Really?”
Inuyasha nodded, patting Shippo’s back tenderly. “Really.”
Together they stayed, Inuyasha offering fatherly comfort that Shippo didn’t realize he had been missing for so long. Shippo silently wondered to himself when Inuyasha had changed so much, and how much of the change had happened while he had been avoiding them.
He also wondered how Kagome had changed.
It was long while before Inuyasha spoke again, his body tensing as he tried to figure out just exactly what he was trying to say. He wanted to make sure Shippo knew that he did in fact understand. He understood better than anything else.
But the words evaded him, staying just past his mind and taunting him with their closeness.
His mind worked to figure out just what exactly he needed to say to Shippo.
Was it that he understood how it felt to no longer feel wanted? Or was he trying to assure him that he has also felt he lost his family suddenly overnight?
Or was he just trying to make sure Shippo knew he would always have a home?
Finally, after much internal debate over what was the best thing to say, Inuyasha stopped patting Shippo’s back and cleared his throat loudly.
Shippo didn’t raise his head from Inuyasha’s chest, but he was pulled away from his own internal thoughts to focus in on the red-clad man’s words.
“You remember when Kagome was gone, Shippo?”
Shippo felt confused at the comment. “Sure. She was gone three years, Inuyasha.”
“You remember how I didn’t come by the village often?”
“Yeah, Miroku had to drag you out from the forest when Sango was having the twins.”
Inuyasha nodded lightly, also remembering the harsh and difficult conversations he had with the other man. Miroku would stand at the edge of the forest and hurl insults into the air, daring Inuyasha to come out and face his wrath, telling him he was expected for dinner and if he let Sango down, then Miroku would have to come and beat him for it, and finally just asking for Inuyasha to come home.
Inuyasha would hear – it was hard not to with his ears and it coming from a familiar voice – but never once did he emerge.
Until Sango became pregnant.
He was shocked when Miroku ventured far enough into the trees to find him sitting in a tree.
“Sango and I are expecting, Inuyasha.” Miroku had looked up at him, his face carefully concealing what he was feeling.
Inuyasha didn’t know how to respond to the news. He knew they were married, he had been around for the ceremony, but that was it.
Miroku continued softly. “We need our friend back, Inuyasha. I need my friend as I enter fatherhood and Sango needs to know you’ll help take care of the child”
“I’m not good at taking care of kids.” Inuyasha barked in response.
Miroku’s staff jingled lightly as he rocked back on his feet to get a better look up at Inuyasha. “Neither am I. That’s why we need each other.”
Inuyasha tensed up and pointedly looked away. “You don’t need me.”
“Yes, we do, Inuyasha. You’re part of our family, Inuyasha. Without you, we’re incomplete.”
If his words had reached Inuyasha all the way up in the top of the tree, Inuyasha didn’t let on. But, Miroku, in his understanding of his friend, turned to leave, only casting over his shoulder one last remark. “We’ll see you for dinner then, Inuyasha. Sango’s making stew.”
Inuyasha pulled away from his memory of that day to tell Shippo the truth of his absence. “I thought you guys didn’t want me anymore. Kagome was gone and so was any reason you had to keep me around.”
Inuyasha firmed his gaze on the horizon, unwilling and unable to meet Shippo’s look of astonishment. “I stayed away because I thought you had only kept me around because Kagome wanted me. Once Kagome was gone, so was my reason to stay.”
Shippo opened his mouth to retort that Inuyasha was being stupid, but was cut off by the older man continuing. “Miroku reminded me that I was a part of the family, and that I had a home. When I saw Sango, she was so upset with me for avoiding her, that I realized I had hurt her by trying to not be hurt myself.”
Inuyasha finally looked down at Shippo. “And you. You said some pretty nasty stuff, but I knew it was because I had hurt you by leaving. I never did get to say I was sorry for that, Shippo.”
Shippo saw the sincerity in Inuyasha’s eyes, and recognized his own fears from the last few weeks in them. He had done the same thing Inuyasha had when the well had sealed shut. He felt remorse for his actions, but also a deep relief that Inuyasha understood – he actually did – what he was going through.
Shippo placed his head down on Inuyasha’s chest, whispering, “I’m sorry, Inuyasha.”
“I know,” Inuyasha murmured back. “I know…”
They remained for a while, just enjoying the feeling of finding a friend in their emotional turmoil.
The sun began to sink low on the horizon, just as Shippo’s stomach began to growl loudly. Inuyasha kept Shippo in his embrace as he stood up and began to walk towards their home for supper.
Shippo, once they were on the move, scrambled out of Inuyasha’s grasp and onto his shoulder, where he used to ride during their journey to find the jewel shards.
“What’s Kagome making for dinner?” Shippo inquired, feeling light-hearted and ready to go home.
Inuyasha tucked his hands into his sleeves and shrugged. “Who knows? Koji’s new pastime is digging up the garden, so I’m guessing whatever she couldn’t replant today.”
Shippo laughed at mental image of Koji digging up Kagome’s garden. She was very proud of it, and was probably displeased at it being destroyed. “He sounds like a handful. How do you and Kagome manage?”
Inuyasha also laughed at Shippo’s comment, responding, “Well, we’re used to handfuls, fighting demons and all, so we take it one battle at a time.”
The mild conversation continued all the way to the hut, Inuyasha filling Shippo in on all of the changes in Koji over the last few weeks, including shaking like a dog to remove water.
“Ah, Kagome always hated it when you did that near her.”
“Now she’s got two people who do it. She’s out-numbered.”
Kagome didn’t hear the comment, but she saw the boys walking towards the hut and waved largely with her arms. She tucked her head into the hut to call Koji over to greet his father and big brother. Koji barreled out, not wanting to miss any of the action, even if it meant being separated from reorganizing the dinner plates.
Shippo hopped off Inuyasha’s shoulder and walked beside him, careful to match the slowing pace of the older man.
Koji squealed in absolute delight at the sight of his father, eager to gain much deprived attention from him, but stopped when he saw Shippo.
He stood still, inching to stand closer to his mother to hold her pant leg. Shippo also stopped, certain in that moment he was facing the ultimate rejection.
Inuyasha put his knee on Shippo’s back and gently pushed him forward. “None of that,” he said. “He’s got to get to know you.”
Shippo, mildly encouraged although still very cautious, walked towards Kagome and Koji. Kagome squatted down and opened her arms for Shippo. Lovingly, she embraced him once he reached her, telling him, “Welcome home, Shippo.”
Shippo nodded, burying his head into her shoulder to avoid the burning gaze of the smaller boy next to her. Once his head was turned away, breathing in the comforting smell of Kagome, he felt a little hand grab a fistful of his tail and tug.
Before he could yelp in discomfort or even turn around, he heard and felt Inuyasha remove Koji from Shippo.
“Hey now, tails aren’t for tugging. You leave him alone.” Inuyasha lifted Koji up and walked into the hut. “You’ve got to figure that out, bud. You can’t just go pulling on other people.”
Kagome asked Shippo if his tail was okay, and he assured her it was, choosing to ignore the slight twinge Koji’s hard tug had left on his back.
Kagome dropped a gentle kiss onto the top of his head and said, “See, he already likes you.”
Shippo smiled to himself, thinking that if a sore tail was what he got for being an older brother, then it was a pretty good deal.
As they walked into the hut, Shippo saw Inuyasha grappling with Koji to prevent him from going face first into the pot of rice and from knocking over the cups of water and bowls of soup Kagome had prepared.
Kagome instantly sprung into action, pulling her son away from the hot pot and onto her lap where she could watch him while Inuyasha served the rice.
Shippo sat to Inuyasha’s left, ready to help where he could, grateful to see the food around them and smell the warmth of the hut. Inuyasha handed him filled rice bowls as he handed him empty ones. Together, they sorted out the food for the little family for dinner.
Koji was released to find his seat next to Shippo, where the food had been cooled enough that neither parent was concerned the boy could burn himself on it while he scarfed it down.
Shippo watched in amazement as the toddler ate faster than him and nearly lost his own meal to the toddler’s vacuum.
Kagome pulled Shippo’s portion of tofu away from Koji and put it back in front of Shippo, tutting lightly at the toddler who was now working on Inuyasha’s bowl of rice that had been offered as a substitute.
Inuyasha advised Shippo, “Got to watch your food around him. He thinks everything is free game and will eat it all.”
Shippo nodded seriously, inhaling his own food as fast as he could then, to insure the toddler wouldn’t be able to get it.
“Careful you don’t choke, Shippo,” Kagome warned, handing Inuyasha a new bowl for rice.
The excitement of the meal, although new and fragile as the family tried to figure out the ins and outs of their lives together, reminded Shippo of the first few months traveling looking for the jewel shards.
Back then, he had clung so desperately to the notion of a brand-new family – one that would fill in the gap left in his life by the death of his parents. While chewing the large mouthful of food he had shoved into his mouth, Shippo looked at the red-headed child sitting next to him, now splattering rice on his face instead of eating it.
Had this child felt the same desperation when he met Inuyasha and Kagome? Was he scared to be alone and relieved to have found people who would take care of him?
If so, Shippo knew that feeling, having once endured it himself. Perhaps he could help Koji out, and be a part of his family.
Resolving to be the best big brother he could, Shippo put his empty food bowl down and patted the top of Koji’s head. Koji was startled by the sudden contact, tensing and lowering his head down to swivel it and stare at the kitsune next to him. His eyes were wide, trying to sort out what the sudden affection might mean, but when he saw Shippo’s smiling at him, he smiled back, unchewed food spilling from his mouth.
“Ah, buddy, you didn’t finish eating that?” Inuyasha leaned over to pick up the chunks of food now on the floor.
Koji, his attention being drawn to the motion of his father, looked down at the floor as well. Realizing that Inuyasha was picking up the food, he lurched suddenly and strongly forward with a loud “AH!” and began to put the food back into his mouth as fast as he could.
Kagome dropped her bowl and shouted, “No, Koji! Don’t eat it off the floor, baby!” joining her husband in trying to pick up the food faster than the boy could shove it into his mouth.
Shippo howled in laughter at the sight of Kagome and Inuyasha trying to outdo a toddler who was hell bent that no one would get his food. He clutched his stomach, rolling back onto the floor, laughter spilling from his lips.
Koji was distracted by the sudden motion beside him, and became far more fascinated in crawling on Shippo to see what was making him laugh. The little hands, sticky with rice, pulling at his sleeves only made Shippo laugh harder.
Never one to be left out of the fun in any way, despite not know what was going on, Koji choose to start laughing as well, joining Shippo in creating a joyous chorus in the hut.
The married couple had paused to watch the children’s interaction, fine with food being on the floor as long as it wasn’t being eaten by a very ambitious baby. When they started laughing together, Kagome smiled and looked over at her husband, whose face was soft – a rare sight for her.
Sensing her gaze, he looked over and nodded at her. They looked at each other lovingly, before a particularly loud squeal cut through the hut, forcing them to look back at the boys. Koji had crawled on top of Shippo and was pressing his tacky hands to his older brother’s face.
They both shrieked in laughter, and this time, the adults in the hut couldn’t help but join as well.
#Little family#panda writes#inuyasha#inukag#inukag fanfiction#inuyasha fanfiction#inuyasha x kagome#inuyashaxkagome
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Cranky Cassie
Peter is upset about a bad test grade. Tony hosts an Avengers movie night to try to cheer him up. It does not go as planned.
I combined the prompts suggested by @kallani-ex-machina and @wigglingpandaboi into one story because I’m lazy! enjoy!
word count: 2,764
Peter Parker was a failure.
At least, that’s how he saw it. Stark couldn’t remember a time the kid looked more dejected than he did today. The day Brooklyn 99 was cancelled came in a close second, but that disaster was resolved in a matter of hours.
Peter had done really bad on a test. Something to do with ancient Roman history. He’d forgotten it was today, and hadn’t studied at all beforehand. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. That was the gist Tony had gathered before the kid stomped off in silence, isolating himself to the table in the corner behind a mound of books and papers. Stark assumed maintaining your schoolwork was hard when you were also trying to carry all of New York City on your shoulders.
Two hours later, and the kid still hadn’t budged. When Tony inquired what he was up to, Peter sighed without lifting his gaze.
“Extra credit assignment. It won’t save my massacred GPA, but I guess it’s better than nothing.”
“You know you don’t have to do this all tonight, kid. It’s Friday.”
Peter simply shrugged and kept working. Stark was certain he was punishing himself. The kid was his own worst critic.
“One bad grade isn’t gonna tank your whole high school career, Pete. I promise you. You’re a brilliant kid. You’ll do great on the next one, and everything will turn out fine. All right?”
Peter seemed to be tuning him out. His whole body was tense with concentration. Tony frowned, feeling unfit to deal with this sort of thing, and laid his hand on his shoulder.
“You want to take a quick break?” he asked. Peter shook his head. Stark let a breath ease from his lungs, then patted his back defeatedly. “Well, let me know if you need anything, okay? I got juice boxes, whipped cream, coffee, vodka—all the goodies. You know, brain food.”
The kid didn’t even crack a smile at his corny attempt at humor. Even on his grumpiest days, which were few and far between, Peter would at least acknowledge Stark’s attempts to cheer him up. But today, nothing. This was a whole new side of Peter that Tony had never encountered before. If he was going to succeed in lifting the kid’s spirits at all, he was going to need some help.
So with a few short texts to the Avengers group chat and a couple of phone calls to those less responsive, Tony got a solid chunk of the team to agree to come over and try brightening Spidey’s mood under the guise of partaking in a casual team-bonding movie night. If there was one thing all the Avengers could agree on, it was their mutual fondness of Peter Parker, regardless of who chose to admit it out loud. Plus, it had been a while since a good number of them had gotten together for something besides the end of the world.
Around six o’clock, people started arriving, popcorn, candy, and fuzzy pajama pants at the ready. The total headcount was Rhodey, Sam, Cap, Scott, Natasha, Clint, Barnes, and Thor. Stark had to admit, he was a little impressed. Peter looked up with a frown as more and more bodies filled the room. They began sandwiching together on the couch, some having to pull up chairs from the bar or nest in pillows on the floor.
“Movie night, kiddo,” Stark said, popping up behind him and ruffling his hair. “Wanna join? It’s a good one: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”
Peter stared at the group longingly but shook his head. “No thanks. I want to finish this tonight so I can start studying for next week’s quiz tomorrow.” He stuffed all his textbooks and notes back into his bag. “I think I’ll just go home.”
Tony’s heart cracked in his chest. He placed his hands on both of the kid’s shoulders as he tried to step around him. “Peter, hey,” he said. “Wait a minute.” The teen trudged to a stop and gazed up at him with tired, miserable eyes. Stark shook his head. “I get it. This test grade’s got you spiraling a little. You’ve set yourself on fixing it, and you will.” He turned him towards the couch across the room. “But look. We’re all here right now, and we want you to watch this movie with us. So why don’t you just relax for tonight, blow off a little steam, and you can pick up where you left off tomorrow with a fresh and happy head on your shoulders?”
The group of heroes piled on the couch, catching the signal, hollered and waved him forward. “Come on, Spidey!” Sam called. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud!” Peter hesitated, glancing between the jubilant faces, reeling through all of the things he needed to work on, but eventually caved to the peer pressure.
“Okay, I guess,” he murmured. He pasted on a smile as the Avengers cheered with outlandish enthusiasm, directing him to the space they’d reserved at the end of the couch. But as soon as the lights were off, and all eyes switched from him to the screen, the smile faded.
Ferris started rattling off his snappy signature jokes—the ones that normally left Peter in stitches. Tony shot quick glances in his direction to see if they were having any effect. While the rest of the team cackled and slapped their knees, the kid just sat with his head resting against his fist. He had a blank expression on his face and a glazed look in his eye. He hinted a smile when Thor elbowed him in the arm, snorting with hearty laughter, but that was it. The happy-go-lucky Peter they all knew and loved was gone, replaced instead by some sad, dead clone. Stark almost felt guilty for making him stay.
He worried he was the only one who’d picked up on the fact that their plan was failing. Halfway through the film, and still sans even one tiny giggle, Tony considered offering to drive Peter home. Then, out of nowhere, the movie paused. Everyone turned in surprise to see Scott holding the remote.
“Hey, what gives?” Clint whined.
“Sorry, guys,” Lang said, rising to his feet and holding his hands in the air. “I promise I’m not trying to ruin the movie. I just noticed we have a Cranky Cassie in our midst.”
All eyes immediately veered towards Spider-Man, who shrunk beneath the sudden onslaught of attention. He stared up at Scott.
“Huh? A what?”
“A Cranky Cassie,” he repeated. “I suppose, in your case, a Pouty Peter.”
A few of the Avengers chuckled. Peter grimaced and crossed his arms, burying himself into the corner of the couch.
“Oh.”
“It’s okay,” Lang assured him. “We all have our Cranky Cassie moments. A little crankiness is good for you, but too much for too long tends to turn you sour.”
“I’m fine,” Peter said, reddening a little. “Really. Just turn the movie back on.”
Scott shook his head. “Nope. No one is going to enjoy the movie until you start enjoying the movie. And no one can enjoy a movie as a Cranky Cassie.” He tossed the remote to Tony, who caught it in a startled jumble, then cracked his knuckles. “Fortunately, after years of research and analysis, I’ve discovered the one sure-fire cure to this devastating ailment.”
Scott approached him, and Peter’s confusion switched to nervousness. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't two hands seizing him around the middle and squeezing his belly and sides. Peter squealed involuntarily and grappled at Scott’s arms.
“Whaha! H-hey! Mr. Lahang! W-what are you—ehehaha!”
With the element of surprise on his side, Scott was able to tickle the majority of his midsection while Peter flailed hysterically in attempt to stop him. Everyone watched with disbelief and amusement as Ant-Man shattered the kid’s walls and drew squeaky laughter from his lips with nothing but a few well-placed pokes to his stomach. On a lucky blind grab, Peter managed to catch both of Lang’s hands, panting sharply and biting back giggles.
“Quihit it! This isn’t helping!”
“Oh, I see. We’ve got a particularly stubborn case of Cranky Cassie on our hands. I think it’ll take the whole team to work this one out of his system.” He lifted his gaze to the others, grinning smugly. “What say you, ladies and gents? Shall we commence the operation?”
When Peter looked up and realized everyone was looming towards him, flexing their fingers with evil smirks, his eyes went wide. Uh-uh. No way. He scrambled to break free like his life depended on it, but Lang slowed him down just long enough that two massive hands could catch his wrists and pin him to the couch. Thor grinned at the startled hero, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“Do not take this personally, young one. It is for your own good.”
Peter shook his head, nervous laughter punctuating his words. “No it’s nohot! You know it’s not! Let me gohoho!” He kicked with all his might, but Cap wrangled his legs with his super-soldier strength and sat on them to keep him still. Having his arms pinned was bad; this was worse. He was completely immobile. It took mere moments for the pair to overpower him. Spider-Man was strong, but he was no match for the beefy blonde tag team. He squirmed and wrenched like fly in a web, knowing it was hopeless. Peter was trapped.
And seven other people were towering over him, armed with fourteen hands and seventy fingers. All of which were about to pounce on his defenseless little body.
“W-wahahait!” he cried. “This is so unfair! Oh my gahahad, this is so unfair! There’s nine of you and only one of me!” He searched through the sea of wicked faces in hope of one friendly one. “Mr. Stark, help! Tell them to let me go!”
Peter’s judge of character was very poor. Instead of doing what he asked, Tony stepped forward and immediately began scuttling his fingers all over his torso. Peter jolted and screeched, laughing like crazy.
“Sorry, kid,” Stark chuckled, “but you’ve been kind of a sour puss lately. I think you need this.” Starting at his hips, he kneaded his thumbs all the way up the kid’s sides, making him giggle and flinch helplessly. He switched to clawing at his belly with all ten fingers, which incited an even stronger, gigglier reaction. Tony had no idea Peter was so ticklish. Every tiny touch made him jump and shriek. It was kind of adorable.
“Stohohahap! Oh my gahahad! Plehehehease!” Peter had hoped he could hold out longer than two seconds before crumbling into a mess of squeaky laughter. Apparently not. He could feel the eyes of every Avenger looking down at his ridiculously giggly self, watching him fall to pieces beneath Tony’s tickly fingers, and his face started burning red. “All rihihight! I’m—I’m cured, okay? I’m fihihihixed! I dohon’t need any m-mohore—ahahaha shihihit!”
Someone had started tickling his feet through his socks, and from what he could tell, they had very long nails. “Oh, I think you do,” a female voice said, unmistakably Natasha Romanoff’s. “This is one of the worst cases of Cranky Cassie I’ve ever seen.”
She pulled off his left sock, grabbed hold of his foot, and began tracing his arch with a single finger. It was a softer kind of tickling, but no less unbearable. His laughter climbed when the rest of her nails joined in, skittering across his defenseless sole, stroking both sides of his foot, and digging between his toes. She knew exactly how to make him squirm. Apparently, so did Rhodey, who seized his right ankle, ripped off that sock, and started scribbling over every inch of that foot. Peter bucked and squealed, laughter pouring from him while his feet twitched helplessly.
“Nohohohahaha! Nohohot fahahahair!” He didn’t know laughing this hard was even possible. He didn’t know tickling could be so mean. Tony took his hands off his tummy for a moment, which Peter read as mercy. Again, he was wrong. He was just moving to let someone else take a turn at torturing him. Spider-Man shrieked when something ice cold slipped under his shirt and raked across his bare stomach.
“AHA! Holy crahahap, w-what ihihis that? it’s freeheeheezing!” He glanced down and realized it was Bucky’s metal hand, scratching and tickling his belly. The fact that is was cold made it so much worse, and the feeling of it kneading directly into his skin drove him insane. It was like being tickled by five wiggly ice cubes. He fought as hard as he could to squirm out of his reach. He did not succeed.
“Give it to me straight, doc,” Sam said over the kid’s laughter, feigning concern. “Is he gonna make it?”
Scott shrugged and puffed out his cheeks. “I’m not sure. The disease just won’t seem to budge.” He grabbed his shoulder firmly. “But keep faith, my friend. The treatment seems to be working, and I think we’re on the brink of a breakthrough.”
“Has anyone tried this yet?” Clint asked. Before Peter could even prepare himself, two hands started clawing at his underarms, burrowing into the hollows of eat pit. The whole time he’d been pinned to the couch, Spider-Man had been praying to the highest heavens no one would go for that spot, that they’d tickle him literally anywhere but there. The moment Clint’s fingers met the sensitive skin, Peter lost it.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHA! NONONONOHOHOHOHO!” His hysterical reaction only affirmed the fact that Barton had struck gold, and he drilled his fingers into his underarms with merciless intensity. Well, guess I’ll die, he thought. Just the armpit tickling was enough to end him, but the the addition of six other hands attacking three more of his most ticklish spots all at the same time was insufferable. He whipped his head back and forth, pulled helplessly against Thor’s unbreakable grip, and arched his spine against the couch, all while laughing his ass off.
“I guess that’s a no,” Sam chuckled.
“I think he’s going to explode,” Cap said, experimentally squeezing the kid’s knees. Peter’s entire body was pink, and his giggling was high-pitched and endless, interrupted only by squeaky hiccups.
“I’d say he’s cured,” Tony proclaimed. “No Cranky Cassie could make that sound.” He turned to Ant-Man with a grin. “Do you concur, doctor?”
“I do,” Scott said, stony and serious. “It’s a damn miracle.”
“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” Peter begged. “STAHAHAHARK! CAHAHAHAHAHAP! SOHOHOMEBOHOHOHODY! HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHELP!”
Then, just like that, everyone stopped tickling him all at once. Thor released his arms, and Steve climbed off his legs. The relief hit him like a truck. He lied still, dazed with disbelief, then rolled on to his side, wheezing and giggling and loopy with laughter. His cheeks hurt and his sides ached. His skin felt tingly.
“Eheh…heheh…oho my…my gosh…” The Avengers stared at kid with amusement and affection. “Y-you’re all so…so mean…heheh…”
“Congratulations, Peter,” Scott cheered, unpausing the TV. “You are officially no longer a Cranky Cassie. You may now enjoy the movie.”
Spider-Man simply groaned in response. Thor sat beside him.
“And if you don’t,” he warned, pinching Peter’s side and making him squeal, “there will be consequences.”
He jerked away and hugged himself around the middle. “Okay!” he giggled. “I get it! I’ll enjoy it! Promise!”
“Good,” Natasha said. She threw him a bag of gummy worms. “Let’s rot.”
At first, Peter tried to play the part, giggling at every little joke or moment for effect. It took him about two minutes to realize that wasn’t necessary. Maybe it was because his stomach still felt full of fluttery, giggly butterflies, but the movie suddenly seemed ten times funnier than the last time he’d watched it. Without meaning to, he started laughing at all the one-liners, sometimes doubling over himself and choking on his soda. Everyone else was no exception. The room was filled with constant giggling. Tony kept slapping his leg and snorting behind his hand. He felt warm, sandwiched between all these cackling heroes who cared for him, even though they had a weird way of showing it. As he soaked in the joyful atmosphere, the bad grade didn’t seem to mean much anymore. Yes, it was a harsh blow to the goals he’d set for himself. That didn’t mean it defined him. But these people and their smiles and the moments they all shared together? Yeah, those did.
#ticklish!spiderman#ticklish!peter#ticklish!peter parker#ticklish#ticklish!spidey#tickle fic#sfw tickling#sfw tickle#sfw#spiderman#spider-man#spiderman homecoming#spiderman tickle#spiderman tickling#Avengers#avengers tickling#avengers infinity war#infinity war#tony stark#iron man#peter parker#peter parker tickle#tom holland#iron dad#dad!tony#spider son#smh#mcu#marvel#marvel tickle fic
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Bucky and the Alchemiste
Part Three
magic /ˈmadʒɪk/
noun
‘the power of apparently influencing events by using mysterious or supernatural forces’, ‘a quality of being beautiful and delightful in a way that seems remote from daily life’ or ‘exceptional skill or talent’
-
Bucky had gone down to the village the very next day after breakfast, reaching the main street just as the Sunday morning service let out at the church. He’d told no tales, however much people asked him; simply sent his letter to Steve, and another, a second thought, to Stevie’s Ma asking if she’d allow him a copy of her baking recipes to try. He’d bought a couple of new shirts, too, and a pair of gloves that – when Tony eventually made him the promised arm – would come in handy. It’d been the last of his money, but Bucky wasn’t worried about spending it, what with the overly-generous contract he’d signed.
The walk back up had been easier for a second time, and Bucky deposited his new shirts in his room, before heading back outside in the crisp fall air. It was pleasantly warm, so Bucky folded up his coat on the steps, and set off into the garden to find the shed. It was a battle to get through the growth in some places, but Bucky found the shed easy enough once he made it around the side of the mansion, in a far corner. The door hadn’t been locked, but the hinges were rusted, and Bucky took a shoulder to door hoping the same wouldn’t be said for the tools inside.
Thankfully, the inside of the shed was well kept, aside from the occasional spider nestled in its web. The tools were by no means in perfect condition, but they weren’t rusted, and the only challenge it seemed Bucky was going to have was using them one-handed. With the sheer volume of growth that needed cutting back, he couldn’t afford to use a smaller tool, but to lift one of the large ones would be hard enough. He found a plan of the garden on his search of the shed, and lacking the answer to his problem, took it back with him into the house, careful to knock the dirt off his boots first.
He spread it out on the table he frequented in the library, Edwin appearing in the mirror nearby as he did but saying nothing. “What d’you think, Edwin? Think I can have it flowering by spring?” he asked, not quite as optimistic as he’d been the day before, as he held the plans up for the man to see. Edwin gave a small chuckle.
“I have no doubts, James. But if you will, Anthony has asked for your presence in the workshop.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at that, but the mirror-butler said nothing further, and Bucky dusted off his shoulder as he made his way down to the workshop. There were no voices as he made his way down to the workshop: indeed, Bucky hadn’t heard those voices since, and he’d been trying not to dwell on the puzzle. He gave a perfunctory knock, before stepping inside, only to be greeted by Tony’s dazzling grin.
“I finished it.” He told Bucky, and upon seeing the confusion on Bucky’s face, made a little oh sound and laughed. “Well, I should start by, I started it, a few days ago, and now I finished it.” Bucky smiled despite still not knowing what Tony was referring to.
“It?” he asked, and Tony stepped aside to show him what lay on the desk.
Bucky’s heart leapt for joy, though his brain couldn’t believe that Tony had managed it in a few days – for there, on the table, expertly crafted and engraved, was a gleaming metal arm. Bucky- to his embarrassment- stumbled over his own feet as he stepped over, desperate to just touch it, feel that it was really real. It wasn’t cold to the touch, and closer Bucky could recognise that several of the symbols Tony had engraved into each joint were the same as some of those on Tony’s robes.
“Tony…” Bucky whispered, looking up at the nervous genius, “it’s beautiful.” He told him. Tony’s face split into a happy grin.
“Well, c’mon then, get your shirt off, I wanna make sure it works like it should!” Tony told him, and Bucky laughed, for the first time giving little thought to his scars as he unravelled the rolled-up sleeve.
“It’s not pretty.” Bucky warned him, but Tony just blew him a kiss that totally didn’t make Bucky’s heart go into overdrive.
“I’m pretty enough for the both of us, stop delaying.” Bucky laughed, and with that, tugged off his shirt.
Tony, to his credit, didn’t stop to stare at the scars littering his chest and the stump of his arm, though his eyes widened a little. He licked his lips, before carefully picking up the arm and coming to stand behind Bucky. “Arms up.” Tony told him, and Bucky did as he was told, but he could feel the tension building, set on edge against his will to have Tony at his back. “You need to relax.” Tony whispered, right by his ear, sending a shiver down Bucky’s spine, but it did the trick. Bucky relaxed, and Tony held the arm up, leaving an inch of space between it and Bucky’s shoulder.
“Is this gonna hurt?” Bucky asked around a swallow.
“Shouldn’t do.” Tony promised, and before Bucky could question that, he let out a long breath and touched the two together.
Pain wasn’t the right word for what Bucky felt then. The point of contact felt like it was burning, and Bucky tensed right back up, his back going rigid as the symbols on the arm glowed an icy blue, but it wasn’t pain. It was like an overload of sensation, pins and needles across his entire upper body and, importantly, ricocheting up and down his left arm like it was there. Plates unfolded themselves from the arm, resting tightly but not uncomfortably so across his shoulder, back and chest. Tony let go of the arm, and for an alarming moment Bucky was convinced it was going to fall and break and undo all of Tony’s hard work, but- it held up. It stayed there, as if it were a part of Bucky, and Bucky holding up his arm was all that was keeping it there. The sheer will it took just to try and flex his fingers was astounding, but Tony was quietly patient, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Bucky stared at his fingers and thought to himself do it, move!
Bucky could’ve cried when his fingers curled, without a delay, and he immediately bent the arm, stood up to swing it round and realised it had the same full range of movement. He whirled on Tony, who looked utterly delighted, and swept him up into a massive hug. Tony froze in for a moment, before he hugged back. “You’re welcome.” He muttered around laughter, and Bucky could only grin.
“You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you isn’t enough.”
They ate lunch together for the first time that day. Bucky grasped Tony around the wrist left-handed and tugged him up to the kitchen, where they chatted about Tony’s work as Bucky made them sandwiches, and then Tony retreated back to his workshop with a “see you for dinner”. Bucky was a little confused by it, but figured that pushing boundaries wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He returned it with an “I look forward to it” and as soon as Tony’s footsteps died away, Bucky ran back up to his room, snagged his new gloves and forwent his coat, and made his way down to the front doors, intent on starting work in the garden. He paused by the doorway, considering if he should find a small mirror to carry with him, in case Edwin needed to summon him, but he passed it off.
He stood in the shed for a moment, surveying his choices, before selecting the large scythe from the back wall, and setting off to work. He began by the gate, on the western side of the path. It was hard work – he was soon sweating and had discarded his shirt on the steps, but by the time dark was beginning to fall, he was most of the way round the side of the house, back towards the shed. It was magical, how easily he settled into the new arm, it’s slightly extra strength. He knew it wasn’t going to always be this easy, but he couldn’t- wouldn’t- complain. After so long, to be able to reach for something left handed and then not fall over because he’d forgotten for a moment, was worth every momentary struggle he’d get.
He wiped away the sweat from his forehead on the back of the cool metal, and observed his few hours work. He found several large sacks in the shed, and quickly cleared away the worst of the cuttings – the cut wasn’t neat by any means, but he could rectify that later, once the worst of it was cut away. He shut up the shed, left the bag-and-a-half of trimmings by the door, and slung his shirt over shoulder as he headed back inside. He removed his boots on the door mat, and carried them with him the rest of the way back inside. Edwin was waiting for him in the mirror by his door, and smiled at the site of him.
“Good afternoon, I see.” He observed, and Bucky grinned at him.
“I’m going to have that garden ready for spring, I just know it.” Bucky told him, and Edwin was smiling back at him. “I haven’t missed dinner, have I?” he asked, pulling on a cleaner shirt, and selecting out some trousers that didn’t have grass stains in the knees.
“You have not. I was just about to start worrying that you might, however.” Bucky laughed quietly. Bucky changed his trousers, dusted the mud off his boots, and headed down to join Tony for dinner – the pad back in hand and the questions he’d found in his book last night tucked under his arm.
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Juxtaposition: Mara & Thein
This is actually a pretty long two-part snippet of two scenes that happen within mere days of one another. I could post one without the other, but I think they are more impactful / tense when taken in chronological context. Obviously, again, this is just a first draft... and it actually takes place pretty early on in the story. The bulk of the work is focused on events that take place in the aftermath, which is when most of the characters are introduced. Let me know what you think - hope you enjoy! :D
The Party
Mara leaned against the arm of the sofa, sipping idly at the punch in her red plastic cup. It was cheap, sugary booze and Booker would absolutely hate to hear she was drinking, but she was also at a party. Having a night off to spend around normal people was enough of a rarity on its own; being able to relax without any disapproving adult keeping an eye over her shoulder was something else entirely. On the couch beside her sat Renee, her eyes hidden by her asymmetrically bobbed blonde hair.
“I just don’t get it,” Renee lamented, gesturing with the hand not holding her drink. “I work my ass off, study for days, turn in the homework and still only barely manage to pass the midterm. I don’t know how anyone understands Stats, I really don’t.”
“I hear you,” Mara said, giving a commiserative tip of her cup before sliding down the arm of the couch to join her. “I think it’ll be a miracle if I pass musical theory this time around.”
As though she hadn’t heard her, Renee continued, “I mean, what kind of a course is impossible even when you do everything you’re supposed to? Am I just that incompetent?” And then, quite unexpectedly, she burst into tears.
Mara blinked and reached over to rub her back. “Whoa, no! Of course not, it’s just a really-”
Renee leaned on Mara’s shoulder, gesturing with her cup in hand. “There was literally nothing in high school like this! I’ve always gotten perfect grades, but then I come here and everything’s such a mess. Maybe I should just give up, maybe you’ve got the right idea.”
The comment stung. Careful not to let it show, she wrapped a sympathetic arm around Renee’s shoulders. “I haven’t given up,” She objected mildly. “I just have a lot going on, so… you definitely shouldn’t give up. I mean, you have your whole life in front of you.” Despite her best efforts to remain positive, she couldn’t help but remind herself that she and Renee didn’t have their life expectancy in common. “Just think about getting through this semester and see how you’re feeling then, okay?” Although Renee seemed to be too far into the inconsolable crying jag to stop, she nodded through her tears and managed to finish off her drink. Mara eyed the empty cup dubiously and then set her own drink aside. “I’m gonna get you some water.”
A few minutes later, she returned with a bottle of water from the fridge and passed it to the other girl, who seemed to have calmed down to mere sniffles. “Thanks.” She said, still sounding remarkably miserable. Mara smiled at her, but felt a vague sense of disappointment settling behind her ribcage. When she had decided to come be normal with a cute classmate for a night, she hadn’t planned on feeling down. It wasn’t Renee’s fault, of course, as she was clearly under a lot of pressure, and yet… “Want me to walk you home?”
Renee swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded, standing up from the couch. Grateful to have an excuse to leave early, she lead her from the party and back to the freshman dorm building. Once she was safely tucked into bed to sleep off her stress-and-tears-induced weariness, Mara made her way back into the parking lot, still in her sleek black dress and sandals. As she passed a scrappy blue sedan, she paused to inspect her reflection in the window. I like how I look, she admitted, but I couldn’t fight anything like this. She made a face at herself and continued walking further into the neighborhood, taking the scenic route home. When she was halfway there, she stopped at the crossroads, hesitated, and then turned in the direction of Thein’s abode instead. Her parents wouldn’t be expecting her home for hours yet and Booker had agreed she could leave the patrol for one night.
Once she arrived at the nondescript, defunct office building, she saw Thein waiting for her on the steps in front of the entrance. “Ah, but you are a vision of loveliness this evening, Marimara. What brings you to my domain on your self-declared evening of rest?”
“Don’t you know already?” She joked.
“I would not be half so valuable to you if I lacked an extensive and well-developed web of informants.” He smiled, eyes glowing in the dark. “But I am afraid my resources do not typically involve observing humans in the midst of their revelries.”
Mara snickered, jogging up the stairs until she was on the landing with him and then took a seat on the concrete, heedless of the damage it might do to her outfit. “I didn’t really want to stay. It was… weird.”
With no notable hesitation, Thein sat down beside her, shadows forming a sheath over his clothing to prevent exposure to the dust. “In what way?”
“It was…” Mara clasped her hands together and let her forearms rest on her bent knees. A breeze rustled quietly around them as she sought the right words to express how out of place she had felt. “Too normal, I guess.” She didn’t miss his quiet laugh at that. “The dancing and music were great, even the drinking to a point, but... it’s hard to relate, you know? The things that they worry about seem so strangely small in comparison. I know that’s not fair - school is so stressful - but seeing them melt down over papers just makes me glad they don’t know how much worse things could be because I’m not sure they could deal.” She shrugged and sighed. “I’m probably not giving them enough credit; it just really hit me that I don’t have anyone to talk to about the things that are really bothering me except for you and Booker.”
Thein chuckled knowingly, flexing his fingers so that his claws slid in and out of view. After a few repetitions of this, he seemed to relax, leaning back on the stoop beside her. “I have always known that you stand head and shoulders above all of your peers, especially the ceaselessly mundane crowds. I rather suspect the occasional bout of loneliness to be confirmation that you know this to be true as well; truly, it is a miracle that one such as yourself deigns to seek common ground with them at all. One cannot easily believe the divine blending with the dust.”
“The divine, huh?” Mara laughed, giving him a skeptical nudge. “You flatter me too much and my head might explode.” Then, with as much sincerity as she could manage while still being mildly inebriated, she added, “I’m not that different from them anyway. Not better, at least, only… gifted. I’m just glad I can talk to you about this kind of thing.” Thein didn’t reply, studying her curiously. She could still feel the glum letdown of the evening gnawing at her ribs, reminding her of all the ways it could have been better. With a sigh, she leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head in such a way that she thought she could feel him smiling. In that moment, curled up with her closest (possibly only) friend beneath the stars of a breezy summer night, she felt the loneliness subside. They stayed that way for several moments, letting the time pass in mutually comfortable silence. “You know,” She murmured wearily, after having turned every detail of the evening over in her mind several times over, “I love you, Thein.”
He became completely still, scarcely breathing for a moment, and she could hear his heart continuing to beat a rapid pulse in his chest. When she didn’t move or retract her statement, he took a deep breath, inflating all six of his lungs, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, sidestepping his hesitation. Although he didn’t echo the sentiment, she felt his clawed fingers gently combing through her hair, scritching soothingly against her scalp. She didn’t mind his silence; he wasn’t native to earth or human emotions, but he had always treated her with the greatest respect and listened when she needed to be heard. His actions were caring enough to justify her belief that the feeling was mutual.
Severing the Alliance
Mara crawled on her stomach all the way to the ledge of the overhang and began to set up her little sniper’s nest, trying not to think about the sheer, sickening awfulness of it. Once she was in position, she assembled the crossbow and adjusted her grip, bringing it to bear on the designated rendezvous point. Don’t think about who you’re targeting, she told herself. He’s just another demon.
If only that were true.
She just hoped it wouldn’t come to violence. If it did, she wasn’t sure that she was Booker’s best hope. What if she hesitated? What if she missed? Could she bring herself to harm her best friend? In the dim, misty night air, everything seemed so much more dour than before. It was fitting enough for a time of betrayal, at least. Her fingers curled over the butt of the crossbow and tucked it close to her chest, busying herself with inspecting the weapon to avoid thinking too much.
Booker stood several feet below with one hand tucked inside his herringbone waistcoat, grasping at the single-use protective ward they hoped would protect him from any surprise assaults. Although he knew she was there, he didn’t glance up, too disciplined to risk giving away her position even when they believed they were the only ones present. In that uncomfortable silence, the mentor and Paragon waited for their former ally to arrive. When Thein did appear, he faded in from the shadows at the mouth of the alley and raised a tangle of tendrils to obscure the streetlight illuminating their meeting. Through the scope, Mara watched him approach Booker with an easy smile and hands resting in his pockets. If he observed Booker’s nervousness or the predicament he was in, he gave no immediate outward indication.
Booker raised his chin slightly to nod in welcome. “I appreciate your punctuality, Thein. I expect you have many other demands on your time as of late, so I will endeavor to make this discussion brief.”
“Of course.” Thein stood with his feet set in a broad, relaxed stance that allowed his tailored suit to hang upon him as a mannequin. All too perfect, like he stepped from the pages of a magazine or a classic film. No one was that perfect. She should have seen that as a warning sign, shouldn’t she? “But I always have time in my nights for you where our alliance and Marimara are concerned. By all means, Mr. Booker - tell me how I may assist you this evening.”
If she hadn’t seen him with her own eyes, she might have doubted herself. Even with the memory of his declaration burning her ears, Mara felt her mind searching for reasons that she was wrong. Illusions weren’t out of the question, but to have had one cast upon her when no one else was aware of her presence… it was a stretch.
With the magnification, she could see Booker swallow and steady himself. “Recent reports have… enlightened me as to some pertinent and rather troubling information regarding our trust in you.”
“Ah.” Thein’s confident smile turned from view as he tilted his head to study him from a new angle, registering his words slowly. “Nothing would please me more than to set your troubled mind at ease regarding such undoubtedly unsavory lies.” His head continued to turn, taking in the surrounding scene with fresh perspective. “I understand now why you did not bring Marimara along. There is no sense in shaking her faith in her allies without legitimate cause.” He permitted the silence to build implications between them, leaving the work to Booker’s talent for discernment rather than attempting to obfuscate the issue with lengthy speeches.
“Quite.” Came his uncomfortable reply. Before continuing, Booker cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses with his free hand. The concerned frown began to overtake his neutral expression, weighing his features down. Mara’s heart thumped harder, hoping that Thein was continuing to be polite instead of reaching out with his telepathic talents. There was always the danger he would reach far enough and find her in her hiding place with his head in her sights. “Unfortunately, Thein, I fear there is very little you can say to convince me of the falsity of this information. More than one eyewitness overheard you quite explicitly promising to end Ordest’s life on an altar to your masters.”
Thein’s bark of laughter fell flat. “And you trust them over my word, after so many years of proven loyalty? That is the height of absurdity. Tell me: Who could possibly hold so much sway over you that you would even consider such a falsehood?”
“That isn’t pertinent information. What matters is that our alliance is now dissolved.” Booker’s posture was stiff, indicative of his wariness of any sudden movements. Mara prayed she would be fast enough if Thein acted.
“Mr. Booker, be reasonable.” Thein spread his hands, palm up, offering an ingratiating and innocent smile. “Have I not given you and Marimara every reason to trust me? Have I not been a boon to her development? Her continued survival? I must insist on knowing the individual who would make such dreadful claims about me.”
“That simply isn’t-” Simultaneously, both sets of eyes widened as Booker recognized the intrusion into his thoughts and Thein unearthed the truth of the matter.
“Marimara?”
She froze and held her breath, terrified he had found her - but no, he didn’t look up, just stared at Booker with his smile slowly fading. With no further reason to lie, her mentor sighed. “I suppose you would have uncovered the facts of it eventually. Yes. She witnessed your betrayal.”
Thein’s hands lowered back to his sides and hung there, fingers twitching ever so slightly. His face lost its charismatic smile entirely, replaced by an inscrutable mask of neutrality and vague displeasure. “It was merely a ruse.” The corners of his mouth twitched, trying to resurrect the expression it had held before. “What a remarkable misunderstanding. I can only surmise this unfortunate encounter has caused no small degree of distress for Marimara and yourself, but I assure you that whatever she believes she heard was a simple lie to ensure my cover. I’m certain that if I could but speak to her, we would quickly sort out the-”
“Under no circumstances are you to contact her again.” Booker said firmly. “You’ve done enough harm already. If you ever harbored an ounce of attachment, you’ll let us go our separate ways without a fuss.”
“I will do no such thing.” Thein advanced on Booker by a pace, flexing his fingers outwards so that his claws extended. But for that tiny threat, he appeared otherwise collected. “I have sworn to aid her in becoming the most glorious Paragon to ever do battle within this dimension. Am I some common informant, to be tossed aside at your leisure? I will not accept it. I will speak with Marimara directly and put this nonsense behind us posthaste.”
Ever a credit to his composure, Booker didn’t flinch. “I have always known you to be a creature of your word, Thein, which is why you and I both know you can’t be trusted now. No matter the vows you swore to Mara and myself, you swore them to your masters first. This night was always going to come when your superiors decided she was enough of a threat.”
The scope blurred as her eyes filled with tears. She stifled her ragged breaths, trying to remain silent and continue listening. Booker had tried to warn her not to get close, not to trust him entirely; was it really always inevitable? Had he always known she was going to lose her best friend?
“She would be no Paragon at all, were it not for my protection!” Briefly, Thein’s lip curled as he allowed himself one moment to verbally lash out. “She is as much mine as she is yours! You have no right to deny me.”
“Constrain yourself.” Booker snapped, the hand clenched around the charm pulling out slightly as he steeled himself. “She belongs to no one and you chose to remove yourself from our alliance the moment it even crossed your mind to offer her as a sacrifice.”
Taken aback by his rebuke, Thein seemed to take a moment to recollect his composure. For a moment, he turned his face away from the light, hands clenched into fists at his sides. When he looked back again, the familiar smile was back in position. “Really now, Mr. Booker, all of this has been blown drastically out of proportion. Let us not make hasty decisions on the matter, particularly not when I am much more valuable as an ally… and remarkably dangerous as an enemy.”
“Do you stoop to threats now?”
“Hardly.” Thein ambled forward, narrowing the gap between them as he casually inspected his claws. “Although one might question the wisdom of rejecting my protection when you humans are so very vulnerable. Why - I have only to think of our dearest Marimara’s home unguarded and terrible possibilities spring to mind. It is so poorly protected with such a plethora of entry points for ill-intentioned predators. Even the nature of such a dwelling betrays its occupants when a stray spark could just…” He gestured with both hands and offered a soft, evocative woosh that put Mara in the mind of flames. “And your own home, Mr. Booker, is subject to so many tactical weaknesses. Surely you are not so foolish as to reject my goodwill when you and our Paragon remain so vulnerable.”
Her finger brushed over the trigger as she bit the inside of her cheek. Listening. Waiting.
“I truly thought you had more dignity than this.” Clear bitterness and scorn leaked into Booker’s tone. “The charade has ended, Thein. This is our final meeting and if you attempt to contact - or harm - Mara, we will be forced to destroy you.”
“I defend my interests, Mr. Booker. I will not be so easily dissuaded as this.” Thein’s words carried an ominous weight that congealed Mara’s fear into a cold pit in the bottom of her stomach. With her finger wrapped around the trigger, there was a moment where she seriously considered allowing the single muscular twitch it would take to grievously injure him, but with his familiar face in the center of the lense, she hesitated. She couldn’t reconcile the idea of Thein, her best friend, with the creature now in her sights, yet they were one and the same.
And so she released the trigger, allowing him to turn on his heel and disappear into the night.
#trying to get braver about sharing stuff for thoughts#also there are things I want to post#that won't make sense without knowledge of the betrayal#even though let's be honest it's pretty obvious Thein's a shady dude#ANYWAY#Mara the paragon#Thein the Grey#Booker the Occultist
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50 Shades of No - The Walking Dead Fic - Carol x Daryl
Things at the prison were calming down. Everybody was easing into a life of country luxury with enjoyable living, and little to no walkers to worry about. Rick and Hershel were tending to the farm they were starting, and they were finding animals for food. They had taken in extra people who were down on their luck and needed sanctuary, and these people were also able to help.
"Rick, I need a list before Daryl and I go on a run." Carol said.
"Well, any seeds y'all can find for vegetables and fruits would be nice. Could y'all also look for some books so we can read 'em to Judith and the kids? And then you know the rest... Diapers, ammo, baby food, the works." Rick replied.
"Got it. There's a Walmart about ten minutes West. We should be back within a couple hours." Carol smiled.
"Alright, just be careful. And thanks for volunteering." Rick said, and went off to tend to his crying baby girl.
Carol found Daryl outside, adjusting his jacket and his pack over his shoulders while sitting on his brother's bike. It still hurt him to use the damn thing, but he wouldn't get rid of it. It was the only thing Daryl had left of Merle. She smiled, watching Daryl fidget and attempt to get the pack on him comfortably.
"Ready?" she asked.
"You move like a damn cat. Sneakin' up on people like that." Daryl scowled.
"Are you ready or not, cranky ass?" Carol smirked.
"Yes, yes I'm ready. Hop on, I don't got all day." Daryl mumbled.
By bike, it took them fifteen minutes to hit the Walmart. This one was one of the newer, Super Walmarts, or whatever they called them. Must've been brand new when the outbreak happened. Most of the store was still packed. They immediately went to the baby isle to get everything Judy needed. Then they hit the weapon isle and got everything from knives, guns, ammo, and silencers. They would have to make a second trip at the end of the week, but this trip would prove to be one of bountiful resources. They got tons of seeds for the farm; corn, broccoli, green beans, peas, even apples and peaches. Daryl found the liquor isle and decided to go get some booze for the adults, and Carol said for him to meet her in the book section.
She found a number of books that the kids would love. She had found Sophia's favorite that she had read to her countless times; Charlotte's Web. After filling her pack to the maximum with books, she found something that made her laugh.
Fifty Shades of Grey.
What it had been doing in the young adult/kids section, she didn't know. She had wanted to read the book before the outbreak happened, but unfortunately, Ed refused. She grabbed it now and decided to give it to Daryl later on that night. That would prove to be a barrel of laughs, and maybe get him out of his bitchy mood. She would grab a couple beers for them to sip on, and she would casually hand him the book. She couldn't wait to see his reaction. Those brows furrowing over shocked and confused blue eyes, his face grimacing, and his southern drawl spewing some obscene yet funny sentence. It was going to be perfect.
She and Daryl took watch in one of the towers while everyone got their rest. Carol had packed her pack with the book, a six pack of Icehouse beer, and a blanket since the fall season was beginning to set in. Daryl was sharpening his bows as Carol entered the door of the inside room, and looked up at her, nodding.
"So, you going to tell me why you were acting like a baby today?"
"I didn't act like no baby." He grumbled. "I was tired." he added.
"Well who told you to go chasing after some damn oppossum last night?" Carol laughed.
"'s good shit. Y'all don't even know." he replied, defensively.
"My my Daryl Dixon, is that a pout?" Carol snickered.
"What? No! Just gimmie a beer, will ya?" he asked, turning a light shade of pink.
"Fine, fine. Also I got you a little present. You want it?" she asked, opening the beer bottle and handing it to him.
"A present?" he asked, looking dumbfounded.
"Yeah, you're gonna love it. Here." she said, handing him the book.
He took a swig of beer then turned the book to the front.
"What the...? Oh, HELL no. The hell is this, woman?" he grimaced.
Carol was looking him dead in the eye, straight face and all, and replied.
"This is erotic fiction, Daryl. And since you were acting like a tired teenage girl, I thought it--"
"Don't even finish that sentence!" he shouted.
He looked down at the book in disgust, shaking his head and murmuring that "this chick lit is the reason women are so damn corny". When Carol went to take a sip of her beer, he looked up at her quickly then popped open the book.
Carol spit out her beer, choking and laughing uncontrollably. She was smacking her leg and pointing, trying to form a coherent sentence between her roars of laughter. He glared at her, trying to keep from smirking, which ultimately failed.
"You tell anyone I looked at this, you best run and hide from me, girl." he warned. "Let's take a look at this shit."
Carol grabbed her pack and her beer and scooted closer to Daryl, looking over his shoulder. He mumbled, skipping pages and trying to find something really awful to show her. Halfway through the book, he found just the passage to read to her.
""This feels different than the last time—so carnal, so … necessary. He caresses my behind with his long-fingered hands, and I’m helpless, trussed up and pressed into the mattress, at his mercy, and of my own free will. He hits me again, slightly to the side, and again, the other side, then pauses slowly as he peels my panties down and pulls them off. He gently trails his palm across my behind again before continuing my spanking. I surrender myself to the rhythm of blows, absorbing each one, savoring each one … I moan loudly as my body takes over, and I come and come, convulsing around his fingers." Is this bitch SERIOUS?!" Daryl hollered.
"Gimmie!" Carol laughed, looking at a disgusted Daryl as he handed her the book.
"Oh, this is good. Listen! "Christian trails a spoonful of ice cream down the center of my body, across my stomach, and into my navel … He kisses each of my breasts and sucks each of my nipples hard, then follows the line of ice cream down my body, sucking and licking as he goes … ‘This way,’ he murmurs and abruptly is inside me … He leans over, releases my hands, and pulls me upright so I am practically sitting on him … He nuzzles my neck, biting down, as he flexes his hips, deliciously slowly, filling me again and again. He smiles against my neck, and his fingers curl around my jaw and throat, holding me fast for a moment." Oh my. I don't... How was this book even popular?" Carol gasped, dropping the book like a diseased rodent at her feet.
"Don't ask me. Yer a woman. So you got the whole woman brain thing going on. How is that sexy?" Daryl asked, opening his third bottle of beer.
""Woman brain thing?" Um, come again?" Carol asked, her eyes hardening as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Oh, take it easy and stop lookin' at me like that. I just... I don't know. Man I'm buzzed." he chuckled nervously, downing half the beer in one big gulp.
"....Mmmmhmm." Carol said, shaking her head and smiling as she finished her second beer.
She could feel the effects of the alcohol beginning to get to her. She was loosening up and felt... Relaxed. How long had it been since she felt this calm? This cozy? This... Free? This felt strangely like paradise to her. Even being in a guard tower, at a prison, it felt like she was in some high end hotel, the entire world at her feet.
She looked up from her bottle to see Daryl eyeing her. His eyes were soft and slightly dreamy, but his lips remained in a hard line. It was always so difficult to figure out what he was thinking. Then it hit her; He was looking at her like that pathetic writer of the book made her male hero look at her female heroine.
It made her feel light. It made her feel 10 feet tall, and like she could take on the world. After all the time, she never thought a man could make her feel so bubbly and so... Whole.
"You know what? I have a suggestion..." Carol said, standing up clumsily.
"What's that?" Daryl asked, looking up at her.
"You were right. I do have the "woman brain thing" going on. And damn it, those were sexy love scenes!" she smiled. "I think we should... reenact them."
Daryl's eyes widened, his pupils nearly taking all the blue color away. He gulped, standing up on shaking legs and looked at her. She inched close to him, her eyes focused on him and only him.
"Wha- wha are you doin'?" He asked in a breathy voice.
"Daryl, sunshine, we are both consenting adults, and I saw the way you looked at me. The feeling, it... It's mutual." she smiled, blushing slightly.
"Listen, Carol," Daryl began, grabbing her hands in his.
"Yes, we are two consenting adults. But we are both drunk. It's cold... Things are just startin' to wind down. And as much as I would like to, uh, "reenact" those scenes with ya, I'd rather wait 'til we was born sober. Make it more... Memorable, yeah?" he explained, taking Carol's hands up to his lips and kissing them sweetly.
"Really?" she asked, in awe.
"Really. Now put that comforter down and getcha ass on it. Let's get warm." he smiled, and laid down, patting the side beside him.
"If you insist... Sir." she joked, sticking her tongue out at him.
As they curled their bodies against each other, her head against his muscular, warm chest, and his arm around her slender body, the feeling of their home being paradise in a world gone to Hell seemed to explode in ten fold.
"What dumb luck it was to find that book..." Carol smiled as she drifted off to sleep.
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