#i just want to give you all a heads up in case shit goes sideways regarding this blog soon.

[eclipsecrowned]

ok, jester's hat is off.

i'm on an edge due to my dad's health and an unrelated incident today just ripping out my mental stability at the root. i'm not well, things aren't looking so hot in terms of coming back from this. i'm likely to be either taking a big step back or throwing myself into the hobby depending on which side of the coin my fucked up brain lands on. i hate to do this as i feel like i only just started getting back into the swing of things but i'm hitting a wall mentally and need to start organizing that space, as it were.

if i do hang around things are likely to turn self indulgent for a minute, i'm likely to be more scarce in dms, i might focus on what's short/gives the fastest returns in terms of effort vs results. it isn't me playing favorites or trying to alienate anyone, i have just been here before and i know where it ends.

#got blindsided with something from the past that actually for real reframed more than half my life #and the perception my entire family has of me and who i am and every dynamic i have irl for the worse. #and so that's doing wonders for my mental health. there's no health left. it's like actively infected at this point. #i just want to give you all a heads up in case shit goes sideways regarding this blog soon. #out of stories

[emchant3d]

part 2 of runaway bride stevie! modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington pt 1

Eddie Munson is not having a good day.

His phone died last night so his alarm didn’t go off, his bassist is sick so their gig tonight has to be canceled, and his last three Uber rides have stiffed him on a tip.

He accepts a request from some dude named Scott with a terrible comb-over in his profile picture and gives himself two seconds to bang his forehead into his steering wheel in frustration with a closed-mouth scream. Then he dials it back so he doesn’t seem absolutely fucking insane. He can see the suit he’s about to escort to some fucking meeting even though he’d rather be doing any-fucking-thing else, and he pastes a fake smile on to greet him. He’s gearing up to fall into the usual routine of this godforsaken job, but then it all goes a little sideways.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and then a blur of a body is slamming into poor Scott from behind, shoulder checking him and almost sending him careening onto the sidewalk. The dude pinwheels his arms like a cartoon character, suit jacket puffing up around his shoulders awkwardly, expression so baffled it makes Eddie snort despite himself.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbles, and he’s reaching for his seatbelt to see if the guy needs any help - he looks like he might break a hip if he hits the ground - but then a whirlwind of white fabric swoops into his backseat and a loud, desperate voice yells "DRIVE!" in his ear, and he sort of just thinks 'sure, why the fuck not,' and slams his foot on the gas.

The car fishtails a bit and the tires squeal as he swerves into traffic, horns honking after him, and he picks a direction at random, going way too fast for this area of town.

His heart is pounding in his chest, worst case scenarios running through his head. He’s going to get car jacked. He’s going to go to jail for being an unwitting getaway driver. But there isn’t any more yelling from the back seat, just heavy, panicked breathing, and he settles into traffic and slows down to a more normal speed before he cuts his eyes up to the rearview mirror.

Time stops.

It’s Stevie.

He can’t believe he didn’t recognize her the second he saw her, but in his defense, it's not like he was expecting to see his ex-girlfriend in a goddamn wedding dress running like she stole something today.

Pure panic wraps tight around his throat as he takes her in - is she hurt? In danger? Nothing good could have had her sprinting away from her own wedding, but it seems like she’s just shaken up.

His heart calms a bit once her tears dry and they get properly on the road.

And shit, it’s so unfair, because she's just as breathtaking as she was the day they split. She looks just as sad, too, which is certainly not how a woman like Stevie Harrington should look on her wedding day. But seeing her in a gown like that - Jesus Christ. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. It’s like something out of a fantasy, seeing her in the exact kind of dress she used to whisper to him about wanting, the kind of dress he’d once promised to marry her in. Of course, they fell apart before he could even get a ring on her finger, but it still sends his stomach swooping to see the future they’d spoken about come to life.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he can’t help but ask, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah,” she says, voice high and a little squeaky. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just in my ex-boyfriend's car after I left my fiance at the altar, it’s all fine, it’s chill.”

“Okay,” he says haltingly, delicately, because Stevie Harrington is not the kind of person who says it’s chill, “it’s just that, you know, all of that sounds decidedly not chill.”

“This is so chill. It’s the chillest I’ve ever been, actually - hold on–” she says, and next thing he knows a swirl of silk is blocking his view and he sputters a bit as the train of her dress smacks him in the face, but she’s clambering gracelessly from the back seat and over the console to plop down on the passenger side with a loud huff and a cloud of perfume.

It’s different from what she used to wear. She used to smell spicy and warm, with notes of amber and cinnamon. He’d kiss the little spots in her wrists where she’d spritz it on, trace the veins beneath the tan skin with his nose to keep the scent of her with him.

Now she smells like vanilla and something floral, airy and light. Like he stepped into a bakery. It’s not bad, of course it’s not bad, but it’s…different. Not her.

Or not his version of her, anyway.

This is someone else’s Stevie now, and she smells like fucking cookies instead of home.

Instead of commenting on it, he just tells her to put on her seat belt, and she looks at him like he’s an idiot.

“And wrinkle this dress?” she says, her nose curling a little, and God she’s such a bitch and he’s missed it so much.

“I hate to break it to you,” he tells her, “but some wrinkles are not the worst damage that thing has seen today.” There are small grey splotches on the bodice where her makeup dripped as she cried earlier, and the hemline has some muddy staining from her mad dash on the sidewalk. It’s not ruined, but it’ll have to be cleaned, and a couple of wrinkles will be the easiest thing to get out of the formerly pristine fabric.

He glances over at her in time to see her run her hands over the skirt of the dress, smoothing it out over her thighs. It shifts, the leg slit parting to show her skin, teasing at the hint of a crease where her thigh and stomach meet, and Eddie rips his gaze away to stare at the road instead.

“Probably for the best, anyway,” he says, and he feels her eyes latch onto his profile.

“And why’s that?” she asks, and he smirks.

“Well, pure white? C’mon, Stevie, we both know that’s a lie.” He flashes her a wicked grin and she makes an outraged sound, but a small smile is teasing at her mouth even as her cheeks flush.

She kicks off her heels - red bottoms, because of fucking course they are - and slouches in the seat. She pushes herself up, adjusting in the pile of silk and corsetry she’s been strapped into, and he sees the absolute mountain of a rock on her hand, and manages to bite his tongue about it being the gaudiest thing he’s ever seen.

"So who was the lucky guy?" Eddie asks before he can stop himself, and the glare Stevie gives him could cut glass. “Or lucky woman. Person? Far be it from me to deny you your bisexual rights.”

He probably sounds like a jealous asshole, but he can't help it. He's the getaway driver for his one that got away on her fucking wedding day, and he feels like he deserves to ask a few questions.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel as the silence lingers, but eventually, Stevie just groans, letting her head fall back against the headrest dramatically.

"Don't laugh," she demands, and Eddie shakes his head.

"Scout's honor," he promises, and he swears a wry little grin teases at her lips.

“You were never a scout. You would have been kicked out for inciting a riot.”

“Hey, I just ensured we all earned our arson badges, okay? I did every one of those kids a favor.” Stevie scoffs, and it almost sounds fond.

Then she says, “Tommy,” and he almost swerves into oncoming traffic.

"HAGAN?" he says, louder than he means to, and her hand flies up to grab the oh-shit bar.

“Eddie, Jesus!” she says, glaring at him, and he shakes his head, focusing back on the road.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, but fucking - really? “Really?” He can’t help himself. “Tommy Hagan?”

“Yes, really, Tommy Hagan,” she says hotly, like she’s defensive, like she didn’t just leave the schmuck at the fucking altar.

“Well that explains the ring, at least.” She reaches over, smacking at his arm, which, thanks to the aforementioned ring, is probably going to bruise. “Hey, ow!” He glares at her, taking a hand off the wheel to rub his bicep. “Watch it, that thing’s a weapon.”

“Then stop sassing me about it,” she snaps, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms and her face falls into that adorable bitchy little pout he’s always fucking loved, and he looks away again.

He can’t help but glance back over at her left hand. The ring is…certainly something. Giant, square, one big diamond surrounded by other, smaller diamonds, with even more diamonds on the band. It looks heavy and cumbersome and like she’s going to smack it into every wall and door and get it caught in her hair and seriously, he’s pretty sure he’s already got a knot forming on his arm where the thing hit him.

It looks like Tommy walked into the priciest jewelry store he could find and asked for the most expensive ring they had.

It looks like a status symbol.

It doesn’t look like her.

“Apologies, highness,” he says, shaking himself free of his thoughts. It’s not fair to hold her to those standards. He hasn’t spoken to her in years. He can’t know what kind of person she is now.

But there’s still a bone-deep knowing that overtakes him at the feeling of the woman next to him. A sense of deja vu so strong it threatens to knock him over.

A different car, a different time, a different circumstance, but the same person. The same love.

He’d picked a direction at random, but as the streets become more familiar, he realizes he’s heading towards his place. It’s as good as any, he figures, and he shifts lanes, reaching to tap on his phone and shutting down his Uber account.

“You know, I almost expected you’d still be driving that beat up old van,” Stevie says suddenly, and he crows a laugh.

“Ah, Van Halen, you served me well until you almost blew up on the highway,” he says fondly. “Lost her about a year ago. It was tragic. I held a funeral.” She laughs again, shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says, turning that pretty smile his way, and his heart does a somersault.

“That was a very impressive move back there, by the way,” he tells her, “that shoulder check of that old defenseless businessman?” He whistles. “Haven’t seen anybody move that quick to steal an old man’s ride before, really, it should have been documented.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” she says, but there’s a laugh in her voice, and she brings up her hands to press to her pink cheeks. He can’t help but keep digging.

“No, seriously! And sprinting like that in heels? And in that dress? What’s that thing weigh, like twenty pounds?”

“It’s a dress, not a suit of armor,” she tells him, but her smile is growing, making her eyes crinkle.

“Just saying, it was pretty metal,” he shrugs, and she snorts.

“Well, you would know,” she says, and he ignores the way his face flushes in response. She gives a little sigh, wiping below her eye and frowning at the smear of black on her fingers.

“Here,” he says, reaching across her. His arm brushes her leg as he opens the glove box and he’s so fucking normal about it. He pulls out a few fast food napkins, holding them out to her. “No makeup wipes in here, but that’ll help with the worst of it.”

“Thanks,” she says, and she flips the visor down, tapping a napkin to her tongue to wet it before wiping at the mascara tracks running down her face. “God,” she groans, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smear, “I look like a raccoon.”

“A very cute raccoon,” he says before he can stop himself. Jesus, Munson, dial it back. “Like the raccoon that’s about to get the best trash in the bin, she doesn’t even have to ask for it.” Stop talking. “The other raccoons are just gonna give it to her, on account of how cute she is.” He’s gonna throw himself into traffic.

“Did you just call me a raccoon on my wedding day,” she asks. Fine, commit to the bit.

“You called yourself a raccoon on your wedding day. I was just agreeing with you,” he replies, keeping his eyes fixed to the road.

Her eyes are on him - he can feel her stare burning into the side of his face, and his cheeks are going pink and blotchy and God, he’s an idiot–

And then she laughs. Not her polite little contained laugh, either, no, this is that loud, wide mouthed laugh that she hates, that makes her shoulders shake and her head fall back. It’s squeaky and hearty and a little obnoxious and he’s always been so obsessed with getting her to let it out, and he can’t help the smug beaming little smile he gives at the sound.

“You’re such an ass,” she says through her laugh, and Eddie can’t help but laugh with her even if it’s at his own expense, because at least she doesn’t look so goddamn sad anymore.

When they finally reach his apartment complex she’s a little more subdued, but the look on her face isn’t totally heartbreaking, and he’ll take what he can get. He comes around to the passenger side to open her door for her and helps her gather the dramatic skirt of her dress to keep it off the pavement as they head towards the stairs, and he knows he looks like an insane person as he carts a bride down the hall, but he just smiles at his nosy neighbors and lets this cement his reputation as the weird as fuck off-putting metalhead he knows they all think of him as.

He feels a little self conscious as he opens the apartment door for her, sweeping an arm dramatically to allow her to enter first. For the first time since she swept into his car, he wonders if this is a good idea. But it’s too late now – Stevie’s giving him a little smile and stepping into his home, and part of him knows this was inevitable. She may not have called him, but he was always going to come if she needed him.

He follows her inside and tries to calm the pounding of his heart, watching her take in his space, struck all over again by her beauty and the impossibility of her standing here, and silently prays he isn’t going to fuck it up all over again.

this was almost even longer, but I figure 2.5k is enough for a part 2! no tag lists, sorry, but part 3 will be here at some point. thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this au these two are very near and dear to me 💕

#steddie #trans steve harrington #transfeminine steve harrington #stevie harrington #runaway bride stevie #my fic #steddie fic

[aceofshitposts]

Have you considered... JayTim cabinfic? 👀 👀 👀

i'm considering it as we speak

-

It's supposed to go like this: Tim is working a case tracking down a corrupt politician. Said politician is also part of one of Jason's human trafficking cases.

Who is also taking a very convenient vacation into the mountain wilderness where he will be attending a conference.

Timothy Drake-Wayne will also be in attendance with his body guard.

They attend the conference, bust the human trafficking and are home before the holidays.

What it actually goes like is this: Tim and Jason arrive to the resort village where this is supposed to go down just in time for a freak blizzard to blow in, dropping the temperatures enough to rival a Mr Freeze incident.

The politician's flight is cancelled along with the conference, losing both Tim and Jason months of work.

Now they're stuck together in an overpriced two room cabin, being told the storm will blow over any day now.

That was three days ago.

Which would be fine, Tim has certainly been through worse except...

Well. He must have some kind of cabin fever from being stuck in such a small space with Jason because Jason keeps...

(This is the part of the story where is Tim was trying to retell this to the family Jason would helpfully interject with, "being nice? Attempting to hit you over the head with hints?" and Tim would turn beet red and tell him to shut up.)

They've barely argued the entire time, Jason insisted on making all the food (and thank god for all the food these rich resorts would stock the fridges with despite knowing most rich people would just end up eating at the various resort restaurants) and he keeps goddamn smiling at Tim.

Maybe they're both suffering from cabin fever, actually.

The power hasn't gone out yet at least; due to the underground electrical grid to "preserve" the view although every communication tower and wifi signal in the area is kaput. Which gives them plenty of opportunity to watch the ample DVD collection that Tim is half convinced is only there for aesthetic purposes.

There's everything anyone could ever want here from explosion heavy action movies, to comedy to the complete collection of Saw movies.

Somehow though, they've ended up steadily making their way through various romantic holiday movies.

"She reminds me of you," Jason says about the plucky, career oriented female lead who was currently oblivious to the male leads obvious flirting.

Tim snorts. "I'm not like that."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Jason mutters, frustration obvious even as he keeps his eyes trained on the screen. Plucky female lead throws the coffee cup with male lead's phone number written on it in the trash, never even noticing the number was there.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tim snarls, turning to sit sideways on the couch so he can round on Jason. Why would he be choosing now of all times to start picking a fight? Is this about something with the case? If it was why wouldn't Jason say anything sooner--

"How many times do I have to walk around shirtless after a shower or give you heart shaped pancakes for you to get it? We're sitting here watching romance movies."

What?

"I thought the pancakes were just a fluke?"

Jason barks out a laugh, head dropping to his hands.

"Once is a fluke, Tim, I made heart shaped pancakes three days in a row."

There really isn't anything Tim could possibly say to save face at this moment.

Unfortunately, neither his brain or mouth get that message and he says, "oh, shit."

They truly are both afflicted with cabin fever at this point because Jason starts laughing, gasping for air and shoulders shaking with his head still covered by his hands.

Tim hiccups once before he's laughing too, gripped by the absolute madness that is his life.

"You're an idiot," Tim says five minutes later through more hiccups.

"Me?! You're the one who wilfully ignored heart shaped pancakes!"

"Fine, we're both idiots. You" - Tim emphasizes this by reaching over to punch Jason in the shoulder - "could've just said something, though."

"So, you're saying I should have dyed the pancakes red?" Jason asks with a smirk that Tim wipes off his face by launching himself at Jason and kissing him.

#astrix writes #jaytim #jason would be the one who makes a boiled egg with a note that says 'i love you' in it #and tim would be the one who says 'aw i love you too egg' #anyway they're stupid your honour #also the 'im considering it as we speak' is an obscure reference to the first make some noise on game changer #because i think about 'did you factor in the antlers' 'i'm factoring them in as we speak' at least once a day #a joke made purely for me and me alone

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

Anyway this is normally where I "analyze" Ghirahim's fight like the obsessed person that am, so!

Honorary mention to his earlier dancing and dramatic emerging from behind a pillar

Wiggly fingers. Like is that necessary?

Link's so fucking angry I love it

No comment

His whole existence? That's... kinda sad, dude. Pick up a hobby. Learn to knit or something

TOSS THE ZELDA

I like how he completely gives up on being civil. Like he never was but hi yes thank you for uhhh offering to show me to my grave

Yeah buddy you were a fool

The diamonds look a bit like fire here, which is interesting considering he is sort of forging himself into the sword spirit form

HEY the mural of Demise appearing is directly behind Link in this shot!!!

Clank clank clank. The fuck are your feet made of, man?

Some semblance of dignity- BUDDY THAT WAS NOT DIGNITY

G. Guilty pleasure?

I do sympathize with him here because Link is annoyingly persistent

Ok so I. Did not remember that Ghirahim briefly showed his sword form. That's interesting.

The diamonds on his skin are kinda cool, ngl

Like how Link is surprised very briefly and then just immediately goes back into pissed off mode

By the way where the FUCK did the second ear come from? Was it always there but he just pinned it back or something so it wouldn't mess up his hair? How come he has ears and Fi doesn't?

The endless plunge is a stupid as fuck name

Absolutely HILARIOUS that Ghirahim had Link's death planned out in a specific way and then Link decided, nope, that's my plan now

So apparently Demise just like. Eats people. Okay.

Cool as fuck boss arena, though

Music is just so good in this game

I like how he just punches Link now. No fancy style, backhand slaps, just straight up fucking decking him

Also he leads with whatever hand is in the direction Link is heading (such as Link goes left, his right hand).

However, if you stand still, it's with the hand in the direction Link is facing

His right hand punch comes from underneath, while the left hand is overhead

The downward plunge into a fatal blow is kinda cool ngl

KICKS YOU KICKS YOU KICKS YOU

(This is the same move he used against Groose and the old woman at the Gate of Time)

He always kicks with his left leg

MAGIC HANDS

By the third platform, he prefers kicks over punches

What the FUCK is up with his skin. Why is it red under the black? What the heck

Why didn't he just start with the sword?

He doesn't do any fancy moves, just a simple sideways slash, an overhead slash, and a stab forward

Oh god not the daggers again

WHAT THE SHIT HE CAN DO SKYWARD STRIKES OF HIS OWN?

Ok so he doesn't do that weird super speed dodge anymore, just blocks mine with his sword. Same with arrows, the clawshot, the slingshot, and the whip

The bug net mutes the music lmao

Bombs make him jump back? I think?

He still licks the sword because yeah. Why not.

Ohhhhh I don't like that sword. For one it is ugly. Where did your good taste go, man?

Anyway just a basic sideways and overhead slash

Even his voice sounds weird and metallic. Fuck dude do you need a cough drop?

I feel kinda bad for him. Like he's clearly a good fighter, training for thousands of years, but Link still someone manages to defeat and, in this case, drive him near to death

What is he? THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW (wild gesturing to my several fics where Link is in some way not human or ridiculously overpowered)

The laugh and the ominous music 10/10

Like seriously Skyward Sword has the best music of any Zelda game imo

I do like how the Imprisoned is in its first form, only legs. Nice detail because it's the first time its broken out

(Also, no spike, which was actually never down in the pit to begin with)

Poor Zelda

Anyway Ghirahim has fangs

World's worst magical girl transformation

Y'know, after all that Ghirahim did, I think he deserved at least some acknowledgement instead of just immediately being forced into sword form. Shit, man, Demise did not deserve your loyalty

Actually wait where was the second Ghirahim during all of this? The one from the past? Did he just not notice what was going on?

Such a cool fucking sword honestly

Demise is weirdly polite

Bag of flesh? Couldn't think of a better term?

GO GROOSE GO

The little sigh of relief...

Angry Link <3

HE'S SO FUCKING SMALL

He's polite, but you can tell he doesn't think of Link as nothing more than an annoying bug

Oh, hey, the name for the past Sealed Grounds is Hylia's realm. Neat.

Anyway. In conclusion I think Ghirahim should have been gayer and more dramatic. Fun fight, though

#skyward sword #loz #loz ss #loz ghirahim #ss link #mb plays a game

[thisfairytalegonebad]

Touch Aversion - Whumptober day 17

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Character: Prompto Argentum Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Brief description of non-consensual touching (non-sexual)

Read below the cut or on AO3 here.

They’re all various levels of physically affectionate.

Gladio likes pounding people on the shoulder and giving bear hugs, and if someone is talking to him they’re likely to experience some form of physical contact at least once during the conversation.

Noct is a bit like a cat. He won’t be very touchy-feely most of the time unless he gets sleepy, in which case he can get a little clingy.

Ignis gives affection freely but is not very fond of receiving it, unless you’re one of very few select individuals.

Prompto, however, is easily the one with the least boundaries when it comes to physical contact. He’ll throw himself bodily at Gladio with post-fight-euphoria, he’ll get into Ignis’ space when he’s in the passenger seat and wants to look at something outside on the driver’s side, and he’ll slap Noct on the ass whenever he least expects it. He likes to throw his arms around people and he routinely falls asleep on someone’s shoulder during movie night.

That’s why it’s such a surprise when he physically recoils when Gladio reaches out to inspect a cut on his left cheek, a leftover from his days spent in Ardyn’s custody.

Prompto looks just as perplexed as they feel.

“Sorry, I- sorry!” he stammers, wide-eyed.

Gladio hesitates but reaches for the cut again, and this time Prompto doesn’t flinch, but he holds himself stiffly and looks ready to bolt.

“Got any other injuries?” Gladio asks, but Prompto quickly shakes his head.

“Nope, all good.”

His smile is somewhat forced, but he did just go through something traumatic, so it’s not exactly surprising, and they forget about it quickly enough with all the other stuff they've got going on.

As they make their way through Zegnautus Keep, Prompto attaches himself to Ignis again, the way he did after they left Altissia. He reaches for Ignis’ hand and tucks it under his arm, and Ignis, admittedly exhausted, is reluctantly grateful for it.

They run into a bunch of daemons, and once the fight is over, Ignis reflexively goes to grab Prompto’s arm for guidance again, but Prompto flinches and whirls around.

“Shit, Iggy, I didn’t mean-” he immediately apologises, and it’s only when Ignis hears the crystalline sound of something being put in the Armiger that he realises he most likely just got a gun pulled on him.

Furrowing his brow in concern, he asks, “Prompto, are you feeling alright?”

“Fine!” Prompto says immediately, sounding anything but. “Just, this place gives me the creeps, y’know? Makes me jumpy, can’t wait to get out of here!”

“That makes two of us,” Ignis agrees, accepting that he’s not going to get anything else out of Prompto.

“Four of us,” Gladio corrects. “Let’s go, sooner we can get out of this place the better.”

No one’s really in the mood for their usual banter, they’re all on edge and any words that are spoken are tinted with various levels of fear and nerves.

Something’s clearly off about Prompto and they’ve all realised it, even before he leaps halfway across the narrow walkway when Noct accidentally brushes their shoulders together.

Any attempt to ask about it is immediately deflected, though, and they simply don’t have the time to stop and figure it out.

And then everything goes sideways all of a sudden when Ardyn shows up. They engage him with everything they’ve got - Prompto immediately puts a bullet between his eyebrows, but it’s like it doesn’t even register, and he reacts similarly to their other attempts to get rid of him once and for all.

Surprisingly, all of them make it out alive, though less due to skill and more due to the fact that Ardyn is simply toying with them. The only reason why they’re alive is because he decided to let them live.

Noct is… gone. Not dead, thank the gods, but inside the crystal, and after trying to get him out for a long, long time, they’re forced to leave him behind.

“We’ll come back for him,” Gladio swears, near tears. His hands are bleeding from his attempts to break the crystal, but he’s refusing a potion.

Ignis nods mutely, stumbling along as they search for an exit. He yelled himself hoarse and hasn’t said a word since, and he’s moving as if in a trance.

Prompto brings up the rear, full of adrenaline and so high-strung that he’s shaking. If he were to shoot anything, he’d most likely miss by a mile, but he cannot bring himself to dismiss his gun or even just lower it.

Ironically, they don’t encounter a single daemon on their way out. Ardyn’s doing, no doubt.

“I can call us a ride,” Prompto says breathlessly when they’re finally outside and at a loss for how to proceed.

“A ride?” Ignis echoes, speaking again for the first time. His voice is hoarse and he doesn’t even look remotely put together.

“Yeah, lemme just…” Prompto rails off and walks a few steps away from them for some semblance of privacy as he calls Aranea.

He’s not a fan of having to ask her for a favour so soon after she saved his ass, but unless they magically find a mechanic somewhere to fix their car, they’ve got no other option.

It’s not all that much later that her dropship appears above them, the noise putting both Ignis and Gladio on guard immediately.

“It’s just Aranea,” Prompto reassures them quickly.

As if on cue, she jumps off the descending dropship and lands directly in front of him.

“Hey, shortcake,” she says cheerfully, clasping him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture.

Prompto flinches and takes a step back, but the reaction is nowhere near as extreme as it was earlier.

“Hey, Aranea,” he says, pretending he doesn’t see the way too perceptive look she gives him. “Thank you for picking us up.”

“No problem, I was in the area,” she replies airily then looks around before her questioning gaze lands back on him. “Where’s Pretty Boy?”

The slight smile Aranea’s presence put on Prompto’s lips falls immediately.

“Uh. Long story. I’ll tell you on the way,” he promises.

“Sure, but first you boys get some rest. No offense, but you all look like shit.”

No one can really argue with that.

----

Despite their exhaustion, rest does not come easily.

Aranea let them get settled in the back area of the dropship. There are two cots that Gladio immediately insisted Prompto and Ignis take, getting down on the floor himself before Ignis tells him not to be ridiculous and share with him instead.

Realistically, the cot is too small for both of them, but they’re making it work with a complete lack of regard for personal space. It doesn’t seem to bother them, either, if anything they seem reassured by the physical contact.

It leaves Prompto alone on his cot, which suits him just fine. The idea of sharing with either of the other two makes his skin crawl.

As if he had read his thoughts, Gladio suddenly asks, “Hey, what was up with you back there?”

Prompto stays silent for a beat too long before he replies, entirely unconvincingly, “What? Nothing!”

“You flinch every time we touch you,” Ignis points out.

“With Aranea too, but only a little. Don’t think I didn’t see that,” Gladio adds.

To that, Prompto has nothing good to say.

“I’m fine, just, y’know. Tired, hated that place. Made me feel jumpy. Don’t tell me you liked it there,” he attempts anyway. He’s aiming for a light-hearted tone, but instead, it just sounds pathetic.

“Prompto,” Ignis says seriously. “What did Ardyn do to you?”

The question, while not unexpected, leaves Prompto speechless.

Nothing. Everything.

Still, he forces himself to say, “Nothing. He didn’t do anything.”

“Prompto.” Gladio’s voice is more gentle than Prompto’s ever heard, and for some reason, it drives tears to his eyes.

“It’s the truth, he didn’t… didn’t do anything,” he sniffs quietly. “Just. He was being creepy. Touched me, sometimes.”

“Not inappropriately!” he adds immediately because both Ignis and Gladio go rigid at that. “He didn’t do anything like that, he’d just come up and touch my face, my hair and stuff and it just… it made me feel really gross is all.”

“But there’s more,” Ignis presses. “Gladio said you didn’t react as badly to Aranea. Why not?”

Prompto presses his lips together in a tight line and stays silent. If it were up to him, he’d just never talk about it again and try to forget it ever happened. But he knows Ignis and Gladio and they’re some of the most stubborn people he knows. They’re not going to let this go.

“Sometimes he did it while looking like you guys,” he says finally, quietly enough that he hopes they didn’t hear over the roaring engines of the dropship. “It kind of really messed with my head and after a while I couldn’t really tell what’s real and what isn’t anymore.”

Gladio explodes in a string of curses and Ignis looks both heartbroken and about two seconds away from a murder.

Guilt stirs in Prompto’s chest, but more than anything, an unexpected burst of anger surges through him. This is why he didn’t want to tell them, and he does not have the emotional capacity to deal with their outrage at the moment, not when he’s barely holding it together himself.

“Look, can we just. Not do this right now?” It comes out pleading and more pathetic than he’d like, but it does seem to have the desired effect.

Gladio cuts himself off to stew in silent anger instead, and Ignis bows his head respectfully.

“Of course,” he says. “But please know that we’re here for you, in whatever way you may need.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Gladio agrees. His voice is gruff, but Prompto knows it’s not from a lack of caring but rather the opposite. It’s clear he’s absolutely pissed, but he’s holding back for Prompto’s sake.

And, it’s stupid, but somehow that makes Prompto feel better than anything.

“Thanks, guys,” he says, wiping the tears from his eyes. Everything is horrible, they’ve lost Noct and Prompto’s losing his marbles, but with them by his side, he thinks, he can get through anything.

----

Read all of my Whumptober prompt fills here.

#whumptober2023 #no.17 #touch aversion #ffxv #final fantasy xv #fic #prompto argentum #thisfairytalegonebad's writing

[or-something-better]

November 16, 2022

Nightly RP              (Ruby played Bela  Sam played Demon Parker)

Sam

Slipping the gun back into it’s case, I close it and move it over to the onto the ‘completed stack’. Looking at the arrangement of weapons on the table before me, I try not to feel daunted by the amount of time this inventory process is taking. Afterall, this entire thing was all my fault anyway, since it was my computer program that we were uploading the information too. Picking up an ornate knife next, I scan the ledger for it and see that it isn’t listed. Hey, Henry… See what you can find out about this, would you?

Patience

cataloging some weapons with Sam Ruby and Henry

Ruby

Here's the next one, Meg... Lamar Archaeology: Mississippian Chiefdoms in the Deep South. Author is Mark Williams.

Sam

Okay Patience, here we go… Item Number 2474 Anelace, it’s obviously an ornate medieval long dagger I turn it sideways and can just make out an old crest. Says House of Glenn… I’m guessing about 14th century, maybe.

Meg

writing it down in a notebook labeled "dungeon spellbooks", I comment slow down, that's a long one. I smirk a little

Patience

grabbing my pen and paper writing down everything Sam throws at me to catalog  got it Sam

Henry

helps out with the books. Puts them in the correctly goes on the computer

Crowley

I pour another round of drinks and smirk looking over at Bobby You did good out there old man.

Bela

What about me? I helped too!

Bobby

Why thank you, Crow.

Crowley

I smile indulgently You did well out there too darling. It's just Robert needs a bit more encouragement being.... out of practice and all.

Bobby

Oh yeah, you helped alright. I say sarcastically and scoff Hey, I'm just as good now as I ever was!

Bela

Raising my glass Anything is better than cataloging. I’d have become a librarian if I wanted to do that.

Crowley

Mhm, I'm sure you are darling. I raise a glass A toast to our success

Ruby

Here, here! I down the shot.

Bobby

sighing and shaking my head, I raise my glass.

Crowley

My phone rings and I check the number, not recognizing it and answer. The words on the other side only serving to piss me off further. Hanging up, I look to my companions. The drinks can wait, we're leaving.

Bobby

I give you a look What? We earned it! Whatever it is, it can wait.

Bela

We just got here! What’s so damned important?

Crowley

I hold up my hands cutting them off I'll explain later. Close it up, we're leaving.

Bobby

With a grumble, I get up and start closing up shop. The good thing about liquor is that it don't have legs and walk away when you're gone.

Crowley

I round everyone up after and we vanish

Sam

I look up to Patience waiting for her to finish writing down what I’d just said. Ready? Okay, add to that 17th century Armenian...

Patience

following Sam's orders I write down 17 the century Armenian got it Sam next

Meg

writing down the last title, I shake my hand out man, I didn't realize we had that many! I'm getting a cramp!

Henry

keeps typing away how close are we to being done?

Ruby

Let's take a break and get something to drink.

Meg

Standing up with the notebook in hand sounds great!

Crowley

I appear with my hostages

Patience

jumps as the guys from the bar pop in  SHIT WHAT THE HELL GIVE A PERSON SOME WARNING WHY DON'T YA

Bobby

I appear, arms folded

Sam

I jump involuntarily when the others just pop in Damn it, Crowley. Would it kill you to use the door like everybody else?

Ruby

Glancing over at Meg as we enter the map room, Anything in particular you want to drink? Hearing Patience, I look over seeing Bela, Crowley, and Bobby.

Henry

Crowley!

Meg

walking with Ruby into the map room oh, hey guys! What are you doing here?? Thought you were out hunting?

Crowley

I snarl and start pacing as soon as we arrive, conjuring and snuffing out a fireball as I do so. Is this everyone here?

Sam

Not sure what Crowley’s getting at with that question, so I’m a little hesitant to answer uhhh, yeah… I think so. Pretty sure everyone else went out earlier.

Patience

answering Crowley yes it's all of everyone else bailed

Crowley

I mutter under my breath before ceasing my pacing I suppose you'll do. I calm myself and stare down the group. I got a call today by some upstart demons. They want to make a move for my throne.

Bobby

Do you know who's playing against you?

Meg

hearing crowley explain his anger, I start fidgeting extra and avoid everyone's eyes

Crowley

I shake my head in frustration and conjure a drink

Ruby

Watching Meg, I notice something’s off. She seems really nervous about something. Hey, Meg. Everything ok?

Meg

Um... yea. It's just.... really nervous with crowley in the room I met with some.... demons a while back. They were asking me if I would join them... not looking at crowley specifically, I murmur take the throne from crowley. putting up my hands in supplication to crowley I told them no! I told them they were stupid! They were small time. No way I was doing that! finally looking at Crowley

Sam

REALLY Meg?!

Henry

goes to climb on Crowley for a hug

Crowley

I roar with anger and surge forward, slamming Meg against the wall by her shoulders How small-time are they Now?  Hmm Sister

Sam

Unprepared for Crowley’s anger, I move forward and try to intervene OW! Whoa whoa… let’s all just calm down a little, okay?

Patience

What!!!! Meg are you serious

Bobby

my brows go up at this. and I flinch as you're thrown into the wall.

Meg

trying to get free like I said! They were small time! There was no way they could take it from you!! I told them fuck no!!

Henry

Please calm down. Hug your anger out  keeps hugging Crowley

Meg

Please crowley! I'm sorry!!

Crowley

I relax and step back rubbing Henry's back I'm calm, I'm calm.  I pause for a moment. You all need to go to hell....pun not intended.  But we need to find out everything we can.

Sam

Not in a huge hurry to return to Hell after just getting out of the Void, I shake my head I’m not going anywhere until I get this mess taken care of. You’re the King of Hell, I’m sure that anything going on there, you’ve got that covered. Right Crowley?

Patience

thinking hell no thanks. Um hell well no I'm good staying to help Sam hells you guys thing.

Henry

I’m staying with Sam to help. Not feeling like going to hell today

Bela

I’ll come! I can be of help somehow.

Crowley

No Bela, out of the question. I say firmly.

Ruby

I can give you a hand, Crowley. No telling what’s going on down there.

Crowley

Thank you Ruby, you'll be most helpful.

Bela

What?! Why should Ruby be able to go but I can’t?! I’m not a helpless damsel you have to take care of all the time!

Crowley

No Bela, you're not coming.

Bela

What sort of reasoning is that?!

Crowley

This isn't just your run of the mill hunt Bela. This is Hell, a coup. It's dangerous, I want you safe.

Bela

Not necessarily buying his explanation, I know when to choose my battles. Fine! But I don’t like it!!

Bobby

Well, if none of you are up for it, I guess I have to step up, don't I? I say, hands in my pockets, a bit nervous Count me in.

Crowley

I look shocked at Bobby's agreement but takes Bela's hand I want Ruby and Meg just because they know Hell already. I let go and go to gear up

Meg

nodding my head solemnly, not wanting to piss crowley off more

Crowley

Gather round everyone. Let's leave.

Meg

stays near Crowley

Crowley

I grab Bobby and nod before we vanish

Bela

I give Crowley one final look, hoping it's not the last

Sam

Before they leave, I catch Ruby's eyes and mouth the words Be Careful

Ruby

I quickly give Sam a wink

Meg

appearing in hell with the others, feeling ashamed I didn't say something sooner to Crow

Crowley

As we arrive in hell, I look to the people who have joined me There's only two possible demons stupid enough to do this. Parker and Mastif. We're splitting up and Meg is coming with me because......trust issues.

Meg

Yes sir. nodding

Ruby

I’m familiar with Parker. I know where he hangs out when he’s here. Bobby, you want to come with me?

Bobby

Lead the way. I say a bit distracted by the fact I’m back in freckin' hell...

Ruby

Popping us closer to where I think Parker might be, I lead Bobby over and point out his cubicle.

Crowley

I grab her elbow and lead her towards Mastif

Meg

being pulled along I'm coming.

Bobby

No one's home.

Ruby

Don’t be so sure. He’s a sneaky one. Let's go. Carefully opening the door, I take a quick look and see it's clear. Come on. We don't want to stand here too long.

Bobby

I look around cautiously, expecting a demon to come out at any second. Then I’m called over.

Ruby

The room looks the same as the last time I was here. There are items strewn around waiting for trade or sale. Bela would have a field day here!

Bobby

on my search, I find a list that looks to be spell books under a bottle of which I DO NOT want to know what! What in the...

Sam

A Loud Crash comes from the hallway

Ruby

Walking around the room, I step on a board that gives off a loud squeak. Bouncing on it a couple of times, I kneel down and see a board that’s loose. Pulling it up, I take a look into the space below it. Jackpot! Reaching in, I begin to pull out Angel Blades! 3…4…5… Damn!...Reaching around to make sure I didn’t miss anything, I feel one more. 6! I think Parker cornered the market!

Ruby

Hearing a crash, I turn to Bobby. What the Hell was that? Getting up off the floor, I head for the hallway.

Bobby

I don't know. lets go find out.

Meg

nearing a cave I point at it I think that's his spot.

Crowley

And you just happened to know Exactly where it was? I ask suspicious look at this photos.

Meg

ducking into the cave, I look around the mess this place is trashed! looking at the photos on the wall that's Harvell’s. Isn't it?

Crowley

Yes.  However, I don't recognize this warehouse.

Meg

taking the other photo this is a warehouse near Ruby’s place. looking around again  Why would he have these? I've got a really bad feeling crowley.... looking toward the cave entrance

Crowley

We should go back, something feels off.

Meg

nodding vigorously let's go find bobby and Ruby.

Crowley

I nod and head back down the hallways with purpose

Meg

arriving at parkers "cubicle" I notice ruby and bobby are nowhere to be found

Crowley

I look around concerned There's clearly been a struggle.  They must have found something.

Meg

Heeyy, crowley? searching through the debris where are they? I find a floorboard pulled free Maybe we should get back to the bunker? looking to Crowley

Crowley

You're right Meg. We need to regroup  I say finding nothing and grab her before vanishing

Sam

I wait for Bela to finish what she’s writing. Bela, you ready for the next one? I hold up the Throwing Star for her to see.

Bela

Writing down everything Sam says, I grumble. World class procurer and here I sit playing SECRETARY!

Patience

going through the books cataloging them one by one. Boy there are a lot of books on Armenian culture

Henry

Yeah we do

Patience

naming of each book for Henry I'm suddenly not speaking anymore but in a vision I'm moving in slow motion walking around Ruby and Bobby seeing them in trouble and about to die shaking head I have to tell the others

Henry

runs to her what you see?

Sam

Patience!

Patience

Um guys Bobby is at Harvell’s and Ruby is in a random warehouse

Sam

Moving to her side, I listen to her newest vision. What?! That’s it? Patience, are you sure? Try to replay it and make sure you didn’t miss anything. It could be really important. We need to find them now.

Bela

Gleefully throwing down the ledger, I toss the pen after it, raising my hands Thank God!! No More Writing!!

Crowley

I appear with Meg looking worried

Meg

arriving back at the bunker with crowley, feeling like crap Hey guys, we... um. Found some stuff. showing them the pictures

Henry

Where are Ruby and Bobby?

Meg

shifting awkwardly that's what we didn't find. They're missing.

Sam

Already grabbing my jacket and making sure the Demon Blade is secure in its pocket. I’m going to find Ruby

Bela

I can go to Harvelle’s! Without waiting, I grab my Ralph Lauren Double-Breasted    Lambskin Leather Blazer and start putting it on.

Patience

feeling useless I love those guys and don't want anything to happen to happen to them but I really don't think there's anything Henry or I can do to help

Henry

I don’t think my telekinesis are going to be useful today

Sam

It’s okay Patience. You and Henry stay here and hold down the fort. Tucking the pistol into the waistband at the small of my back, I pull my shirt down to conceal it. If anyone comes back tell them what’s happened… and if you get anything more, you call me right away, alright?

Crowley

Grab your weapons Bela. We're going after Bobby.  I say steeling myself

Bela

 I grab my Gucci Soho Leather Flap Shoulder Bag and pull out my Glock G43. Ready!

Patience

Will do Sam and hey all of you come back safe

Meg

I'll go with you Sam. putting a few extra blades into innocuous pockets and hiding places

Sam

I nod at her Great. Thanks Meg I grab my backpack and reach over to touch her shoulder. Ready

Meg

waving at patience and henry, we vanish

Crowley

I take Bela's arm and we vanish together

Patience

waves at Meg as she vanished

Sam

Staying hidden beside an outdoor storage area, I can see the warehouse across the street. The 4 men I could see appeared to be stationed as lookouts, and not just the usually employees you might ordinarily see. Meg… are they demons?

Meg

looking at the men they are. How do you want to do this?

Sam

Of course they are, at least I knew that we were in the right place. Looks like that door on the end is the only way inside.

Meg

Yea? seeing another demon appear coming through the door Sam just talked about you sure about that?

Sam

Look, Ruby’s in there, I’m going in Meg. We’ve all got a better chance of walking away from this if you’ll get us both inside that place.

Meg

OK. Fine. Grabbing Sam’s arm, I pop us into a nice dark corner of the warehouse

Crowley

I pop Bela and I outside the bar It's surrounded, we'll need to be careful.  I'm going to pop you into the cooler I remove my coat and place it over your shoulders. I'll come get you when I'm inside.

Bela

What?..Wait!...No!

Crowley

I pull Bela close and shut her up with a brief kiss Be quiet until I get you. You can scream at me as much as you want after.

Bela

Oh, you can rest assured there WILL be screaming!  Which I convey through my stare!

Crowley

I smirk a little and vanish you inside before turning and confidently striding into the bar

Patience

sitting at the table trying to concentrate shit trying to get everything in order I slammed a book shut. Dammit I feel so helpless  I should be out there helping I try to say to myself"

Henry

hearing her muttering I sit beside her they will be fine. There’s nothing we can do besides sit here and make sure we have drinks and food for them ready. side hugging her

Patience

hugging Henry back Henry I appreciate you for saying that but how do you know?

Henry

shrugs they also are fine or find a way out. Plus we got demons on our side too.

Sam

Keeping to the shadows inside the warehouse, I’m slowing leading Meg along the outer-most wall of the building. I can see office-like rooms off to the right and figure that’s the most likely place to hold a captive.

Meg

following Sam, as stealthy as I can, we move toward the offices and I see a door open. I freeze midstep

Sam

Moving around the door in one smooth fast motion, I bury Ruby’s blade in the demon’s chest up to the hilt and smile with satisfaction as the flash of light signals his final death. One down. Glancing at Meg, I let the demon sink to the ground and then wipe the blood off the blade on his shirt. Nodding towards the now open door, I signal to her we’re going  through it.

Meg

nodding at Sam I follow. When we go through the door I see 2 more demons "guarding" a door, I look at Sam

Sam

Stepping into the new hallway, I see its guarded by two more demons. Breaking to the left around Meg, I rush forward and crash hard into a much shorter demon.

Meg

taking Sam’s lead I charge the other demon knocking him down

Sam

Getting shoved backwards, I catch my shoe on a broken piece of cement in the floor and stumble a few steps. Regaining my footing, I shoot a swift glance at Meg, see that she’s holding her own, and re-engage the demon before me with renewed fury. After a couple swings, that were blocked at the last second and one solid punch to the face that may have broken my nose, I stab the demon deep in the side of the neck. His final scream cut short, as the tip of the blade exits through his vocal cords.

Meg

as I try to sit up from fall the demon squirms and tries to shove me off, almost managing, hitting me in the face, but I slide a nice long knife from my sleeve and ram it in his heart, killing it

Sam

Standing up and breathing hard, I see Meg is the victor of her fight as well. With a wave of my hand I indicate the door the two had been guarding. Crossing over to it, I yank it open and rush inside.

Meg

I nod at Sam to go ahead and follow him inside

Crowley

I stride into the bar, clocking two demons behind me

Demon Parker

Boldly entering the Roadhouse that had always been thought of as the domain of Hunters, already felt like a Win. Dragging along beside me the cuffed and compliant demon Sam Winchester would surely come for, was just further icing on the cake. Throwing her roughly to the ground, I point at one of the demon’s standing over Crowley and bark an order. Don’t take your eyes off her.

Ruby

I slam into the floor, hitting my head in the process. Enough to see stars but still conscious. Just you wait, asshole! I glare at him!

Crowley

I stare in shock and stare in shock at seeing Ruby but compose my expression

Demon Parker

You look surprised, Crowley. Surely even you know that the younger Winchester would go directly to the bitch’s side… and with Bobby Singer already dead… I can’t help but laugh She seemed the next best thing.

Bela

Taking out my phone, I call Patience at the bunker, filling her in. I am in the cooler waiting, at least that’s the plan, for him to open the door.

Crowley

I laugh you're more stupid than I thought If you believed I actually care about them. I roll my eyes. No, I'm just here to kill you for thinking you could dare and try to usurp me.

Demon Parker

Laughing harder. Now that IS just funny, right there. Walking closer to the former so-called King of Hell You know, I can’t even imagine how someone as… mediocre… as you, ever held the Throne. Laughing again But no more…

Patience

seeing Bella's name pop up my phone I quickly answer it are you ok

Bela

Trying to keep my teeth from chattering I’m in a damned freezer! Even with Crowley’s coat on, I’m freezing in here! He had better hurry or there will be hell to pay!

Patience

putting the phone on speaker so Henry can hear  be safe Bela wish I were there to help

Crowley

I just shake my head and subtly snap my fingers to unlock the freezer Oh If I'm mediocre then you really should be wearing a dunce cap.

Bela

Just then the door opens!. Gotta Go! I have some Demons to kill! Hanging up, I toss the phone into Crowley’s pocket and take out my blade and quietly leave the cooler.

Henry

Be safe and have fun killing demons

Patience

worried as Bela hangs up damn Henry

Bela

Carefully I make my way toward the front, not encountering any demons on the way. Staying hidden, I see Crowley sitting in a chair. Getting his attention, I nod my head toward him.

Henry

What

Patience

I think now would be a good time to pray putting my phone down

Henry

Dad not going to answer or Cass

Sam

Surprise sweeps over me when the room is empty except for one demon. Where is she?

Crowley

I nod slightly in Bela's direction

Bela

Waiting, I slip behind the bar, unnoticed and wait for just the right opportunity.

Meg

walking in behind Sam I freeze, looking around..... at nothing and no one

Patience

Mastif. Well well well Sam friggin Winchester coming to save his girl. Surprised she's not here dumbass

Patience

Mastif not who I expected but oh well you should enjoy the show  I do have something I need to finish here

Sam

I glance at Meg and realize that she knows this demon.

Meg

turning my head toward Sam in a question like the fuck?

Patience

Mastif  waving my hands throwing Sam against the wall"

Sam

Before I can say anything else, I’m thrown backwards and hit the wall hard, unable to move.

Meg

my eyes go black as mastif puts Sam on the wall

Patience

Mastif. walking around Meg shaking my head at her  t't't why did you not want to join us instead you chose to stay with these peons

Meg

Shaking my head at this stupid demon you guys are out of your mind mastif! There's no way in.... well, hell you will be able to take throne from crowley. He the fucking king! You'll never get it. looking back at Sam

Patience

Mastif. shaking my head at her again join us now demon and maybe you might get to live

Meg

taking a step closer and pulling out another blade Not on your life!

Patience

Mastif t',t't  I'll be right back demon whore. Mastif   dragging bobby by his collar I stand in front of Meg so she and Sam can see what I've done to him"

Sam

Bobby?! Even though he appears bruised, I’m glad to see that he's still in one piece. But where the hell is Ruby?

Bobby

As I come out, I look all kinds of pissed off. I'm bruised up, bleeding, got a black eye... if it isn't for my hands being tied, i wouldn't hesitate to rip this bastard apart. Oh hey! Friends are here! At last! FINALLY! YA IDJITS COULDN'T GO A LITTLE FASTER, HUH??? No... no... calm...

Meg

seeing Bobby, my heart starts to beat faster

Patience

mastif. pulling up a chair and sits in it flinging this human to the floor in front in front of me

Bobby

I let out a short cry as I’m pushed to the ground. I offer Sam and meg a weary smile. At least someone came for him. I can’t think of anyone better to.

Patience

stroking Bobby's hair like he's my on personal puppy

Bobby

Back to my pissed off face. I try to move away from Mastiff, grimacing.

Meg

as I watch mastif petting bobby like that my blood boils don't touch him you skeezy fucker! moving in closer to attack

Patience

Mastif with a wave of my hand throwing Meg to the wall next Sam

Sam

As Meg slams into the wall beside me, I try to struggle against the power holding me even more. Mastif!!

Meg

I drop one of my blades as I am thrown across the room

Patience

Mastif  raising my eyebrow in Sam's direction

Sam

So, all this because you have designs on Crowley’s Throne… I laugh sardonically You? Maybe you think roughing up women and old men makes you powerful, but you’re just a joke.

Bobby

SAM! MEG! ohhhhhh yeah. I’m gonna gank this man bitch

Patience

Mastif  standing abruptly dropping the drunk beat up human to the floor  what the hell do you know about it?

Sam

I clamp by teeth tightly together as Mastif advances, relieved to see that he’s forgotten Bobby for the moment. No way you’ve got what it takes assume the title King of Hell… it’s only a matter of time before one of your hostages stabs you in the back.

Bobby

I grunt, falling flat on my face. I only half register that the knife is in my reach. I’m too absorbed by current events at the moment. Then I come to my senses and grab the knife slowly as not to attract attention. I hide it under my leg and sit up.

Meg

I keep my eyes on bobby, and give a small nod, telling him to do it

Bobby

I nod back, determined to finish this.

Patience

Mastif.   Blowing bobby kiss as I look back to Sam and Meg what do you think of my new boyfriend. He'll be a nice queen of hell

Bobby

OH GAG! When Mastiff isn’t looking, I pull myself to my feet. I run at him with the knife in hand. I thrust the knife into the his back into his heart as he gets out the boyfriend bit. Sorry to break your heart, but not even in your wildest dreams!

Patience

Mastif.  Letting out a loud roar as I feel the blade going through back to heart.  ROAR FALLING TO THE GROUND

Sam

Suddenly released from the wall, I reach and clap Bobby on the shoulder. Thanks Bobby. You okay? I’m almost afraid to ask. Do you know anything about Ruby?

Meg

falling to floor thanks bobby. Nice job. I stand next to Sam looking at bobby. Still kinda surprised it's not ruby here

Bobby

Yeah, I'm fine all things considering. A little creeped out. but fine. She's at the bar.

Sam

Harvell’s? We need to get there, come on...  Meg can you take us?

Bobby

The idjit didnt' know who he was messin' with, I grin proudly

Meg

looking from bobby to Sam and back again I say um, maybe we should call patience and henry. Let them know about bobby at least? shrugging so they can stop worrying a little?

Sam

I see the logic in what she says, there is no way I want a rash decision on my part to put Ruby in any further danger. Pulling out my phone, I hand it to Meg. Here, you call them. I start to pace while I wait.

Meg

taking the phone I dial patience's phone

Patience

answers my phone putting it on speaker for Henry to hear what's going on  Sam

Meg

putting it on speaker so we can all hear meg, actually,  but yes. We're here, and so is bobby.

Patience

Oh thank thank you what about Ruby I have Henry here too

Meg

I guess she's at the bar. We are gonna there next. Help crowley, if he needs it.

Patience

Ok sounds like a plan should you send bobby here?

Meg

Yea, that's sounds good. You guys take care of him, he's beat up pretty good. I'll send him in a minute.

Patience

We're waiting we'll take care of him

Meg

OK. Talk to you later. hanging up the phone, I look at bobby you ready?

Patience

Please be safe we want you all back safely

Bobby

Fine. If you insist I'll go back to the bunker.

Patience

hanging up my phone and waiting for Bobby

Meg

I do. winking at him and waving my hand at bobby he vanishes back to the bunker, I look at Sam you ready? putting the phone in my pocket

Sam

I hold on to Bobby Hurry Meg

Meg

we vanish to the bar

Crowley

with Bela behind the bar, I turn my full attention back to Parker and smile indulgent Pray, tell me. Why do You think you'd be a better king than myself?

Demon Parker

Chuckling again Who better? I hold up my hands indicating myself Face it Crowley. As soon as you threw in with this Hunter lot, you were finished. Pacing back and forth before him, warming to the subject Every evil thing out there knows that you’ve gone soft and they’re all just lining up to take your place… We just decided to push ourselves to the front of the line. Stopping before him, I lean over and look him in the eyes. A pompous douchebag like you shouldn’t serve as dog catcher… you’re no King.

Crowley

I just smirk entertained Oh really, you think so? I snap my fingers and the demon on parkers left is teleported into one of my privet dungeons in shackles. Would you like to continue digging your grave?

Lower Demon

Master Parker, we should have put Crowley in a Devils Trap!

Bela

This is it! Rushing out, I hold my blade steady and slam it as hard as I can into the back of the demon while telling him No Shit Sherlock!

Crowley

I stand from the common bar chair and brush my jacket off with an unimpressed look towards the demon corpse

Demon Parker

Uggh, Ridiculous! I spin around planning to leave, only to find that the younger Winchester and Meg have arrived to join the party

Meg

appearing in the bar with Sam standing behind parker

Sam

Appearing in Harvell’s Bar, it only takes me a second to see that things have already started to go down. As the demon in the center of everything turns to face me. I take a step forward and ready for a fight.

Demon Parker

Hate radiates from me as I look at the crowd now gathered in solidarity against me and decide it’s better to fight another day. Making a snap dash for the door, I get my hand on the knob feeling the triumph of success.

Meg

I see Parker head for the door and let my demon killing blade fly, piercing his neck

Demon Parker

Lightning-like pain shoots through me and my body jerks violently before falling to the ground dead.

Sam

As the demon scum is dying my attention as already turned to Ruby. Rushing over to where she’s seated on the floor, I bend down and look her over. Ruby, you okay?

Ruby

Sitting up, hands still cuffed, I feel a trickle of blood sliding down the side of my head. Watching Meg kill Parker gives me a sense of satisfaction. Looking over I see Sam, and smile at him, wincing at my split lip. I’m okay, Sam. Just a bump or two. Let’s go home.

Sam

Helping her to stand, I slip an arm around her waist until I’m sure she’s steady on her feet. I know you do… but that’s probably not our best move right now.

Bela

Rushing over to Crowley, I give him a once over to see that he’s okay, then grab him in a bear-hug as relief pours over me.

Crowley

I turn and catch Bela in my arms I told you I trusted you to hold your own. I tighten the hug glad she's safe as well.

Meg

watching everyone embracing makes me think of Cass, and my good mood downshifts a bit. I clear my throat saying maybe we should get back to the bunker?

Sam

I reach out and touch Meg Let’s go

Meg

I take Sam and ruby and we vanish appearing in the bunker with Sam and ruby

Sam

Relieved to be back at the Bunker and see that everyone seems to be doing well. I turn to Ruby and feel sick at the beating I know she took. Come on, let’s get those cuts cleaned up.

Crowley

I appear at the Bunker keeping Bela close

Bobby

I sit at the map table looking like an unhappy camper with a shit load of wounds

Patience

sitting at the map table tending to Bobby's wounds  I look up just as the others pop in. Oh thank goodness you all are finally back I've been so worried

Sam

Taking a small Med Case out of the cabinet, I open it on the map table and pull Ruby over pressing her to sit down. I can tell by the look on her face that she’s just about to insist to me that she’s fine.

Ruby

I’m fine, Sam!

Sam

I chuckle at her and cut her off. Don’t be a baby…

Meg

looking at patience hey. Sorry I left you guys to this cataloging on your own.

Patience

feeling relieved to see them back. Oh Meg we didn't mind at all.

Bela

Turning to Crowley, it’s time to bring up the elephant in the room between us. Tell me Crowley, is this always going to be a problem? You having to fight to stay on the throne while others try to take it away?

Crowley

I sigh and look down at her, taking her hands Probably. We put this rebellion down fairly quickly, so that should discourage any new ones for a while. But it's a hazard for any monarch. An even larger hazard for a monarch in Hell.

Bela

Somehow, that does not bring me comfort.

Henry

That will never end

Bela

Nor does that!

Ruby

Not being able to help myself, I have to add, Heavy is the head that wears the crown, eh Crowley? That crown is a bullseye.

Crowley

I roll my eyes Ain't that the truth lasse.

Patience

finishing up with tending to Bobby I stand up and walk over to Sam. Sam I'm really sorry I couldn't get the cataloging finished I just couldn't get my head into it I was to worried

Sam

Patience, that doesn’t matter. You did good. It was your vision that allowed us to get everyone back safe and sound.

Bobby

Thanks, Pay. I owe ya one.

Henry

hugs Crowley

Crowley

I turn and hug back

Meg

an idea coming to my devilish brain, I give patience an evil smile I can help now. And even better, crowley and Bela can help us. I look at Bela and snigger

Bela

Oh, no! I am not a secretary!

Patience

Na ya don't that's what I'm here for to help with whatever I can

Crowley

I laugh softly come now Bela, we can help. I'll even do the writing if it's that much of an issue

Patience

Oh thank you Meg maybe I can concentrate now

Bela

I can see I am not getting out of here any time soon! Fine!

Bobby

I offer you an appreciative smile. Well, I’m calling it a well deserved night’s sleep. Goodnight everyone! I head out, yawning. Muttering to myself: That’s the last time I let anyone take me to hell!

Ruby

I don’t know about you, Sam, but I’m ready to go home.

Sam

Ruby, that sounds really good to me, Let’s get you home...

Patience

nodding to Bobby night bobby

Ruby

Night everyone! I pop us to the apartment.

Patience

Night Ruby and Sam hopefully they heard me

Henry

Night

Meg

this has been a fun filled day. Hasn't it? I make drinks appear for all

Crowley

I chucks fondly and conjure us both drinks as I grab the catalog list At least Moose will appreciate my efforts

Patience

Oh thank you Meg I can use this as I laughed. What a day

Ruby

Thanks! I think I'm going to need this!

Meg

We can make this a fun cataloging drinking game. laughing

Ruby

Sam would kill us......let's do it!

Patience

Oooh sounds fun let's get it done

Meg

taking a sip, I sit down to write

The End

………………………………….

1. At the bunker Sam, patience, Ruby, henry and meg are cataloging everything(books, weapons, etc). Sam is looking at a weapon that doesn't have a catalog card and asks henry to do a little research to find it. Henry jumps on the computer. Patience is writing down everything he tells her in a book.  Ruby is reading off names of books to meg who is writing them down in a separate book. Meanwhile Crowley, Bela, and Bobby are at Harvell’s having finished a small hunt with only 2 vamps. Crowley tells bobby he did good, and Bela asks what about her? Crowley replies she did good too, and Bobby makes a smart ass remark. They toast to each other saying hunting is better than cataloging any day. They start to get another round of drinks going when crowley gets a call from an unknown #. He answers it, listening, and is immediately pissed. He hangs up saying the drinks need to wait and they need to go to the bunker. Bobby says they earned a few drinks, and Bela start to argue too.  crowley holds up his hands to stop them by saying he will explain later. They close the bar and crowley pops them to the bunker

2. At the bunker patience and Meg are trying to keep up with Sam and ruby when the bar group suddenly shows up, startling Sam and henry, patience let's out a little scream. Meg and Ruby come into the map room having completed the catalog from the dungeon and wanting a drink. They notice Bela, crowley, and bobby in the map room, crowley looking like he wants to kill someone. Meg asks what's up? Crowley wants to know if this is everyone in the bunker and Sam and Patience both say yea, it should be, cuz everyone else went out. Crowley takes a deep breath and tells the team he got a call, and explains that rogue demons are trying to put him off the throne. Bobby asks if he knows who it is, crowley just shakes his head. Meg hears this and gets really nervous. Ruby notices meg twitching more than normal and not meeting anyone else's eyes, and asks if everything is OK. She stalls for a minute then fesses up saying she met some demons a few months ago, and they wanted her to join them, and She told them no. The team is shocked and crowley slams meg against the wall. Asking her why she didn't say something sooner. She tells him it was cuz she thought they were small time with no way to carry out the threat. Crowley retorts how bout now? Meg apologizes profusely saying she had nothing to do with it. Crowley let's her go and tells the team they need to go to hell(pun), and find out anything they can. Sam says he is in the middle of cataloging the bunker and he won't go until he's done. Patience and henry both say they will stay and help Sam. Bela wants to go, but crowley puts his foot down and says no. ruby also wants to go and crow says fine. Bela throws a fit until crowley tells her this is different than a hunt, and he wants her to stay safe. Bobby says he will go too. Bela relents and is upset about it, Crowley yells her he wants meg and ruby to help because they know hell. They gear up as needed and vanish to hell.

3. The demons arrive in hell with bobby, and crowley says it could be only 2 possible demons that want him off the throne. Their names are Parker and mastiff. Crowley splits them up saying meg is staying with him because of trust issues, ruby says she knows where Parker hangs out and she will take bobby with her. Crowley and meg go look for mastif. When ruby and bobby get to parkers hide out, bobby comments it looks like no one is home, and ruby says don't be too sure. They look around and ruby finds a secret stash of (5 or 6) angel blades under a floorboard. Bobby finds a list of spellbooks tucked under a bottle of something on a table. They suddenly hear something crash in the hallway and go to investigate. Crowley and meg find the hideout in hell where mastif was staying (a cave). They find a few pics of Harvell’s, and a few of some random building, taped to the wall. Crowley says he doesn't recognize the warehouse, and meg says it's near Ruby's apartment. They all have bad feelings and say they need to get back soon. Meg and crowley go to parkers room to find bobby and ruby gone, and signs of a struggle in the hall. They go back to the bunker with what they found out.

4. At the bunker Sam is still going through the artifacts and weapons while patience goes through the books. Bela is writing everything down for Sam and bitching about being a secretary. Patience is telling henry a title when she has a vision of bobby and ruby about to die. Henry jumps up and goes to her. Patience tells them bobby is at Harvell’s and ruby is at a random warehouse near Rubys. Sam freaks out and says they need to find them now, and Bela throws her hands up and says thank God, No more writing. At that moment meg and crowley show up and tell them what they found. Henry asks where bobby and ruby are. Meg tells them that bobby and ruby are missing. Sam says he's going to find ruby, and Bela says she will go to Harvell’s. Patience says she doesn't want anything to happen to either of them, but she doesn't think she or henry will be any use to them. Henry agrees with her. Sam says it's OK, and they can stay and finish cataloging. They both agree. Meg says she wants to help ruby, so her and Sam gear up and leave. Crowley tells Bela to get some weapons, and they too vanish.

5. At the warehouse near Ruby’s apartment Sam and meg are outside trying to see if they can find a way in. Seeing demons around the building and at the entrance, Sam says there's only 1 way in and looks at meg. Meg nods, and tells him if they do this it might not end well. Sam doesn't care and begs meg to take them in. She finally does agree, and they pop into the warehouse, in a dark corner. Meanwhile at Harvell’s bobby, crowley and Bela are also outside scoping the place out. Crowley says it's surrounded and Bela wants to charge in. Crowley tells her no, and says he has a plan. Bela asks what is and crowley says he is going to pop her into Harvell’s cooler, and gives her his coat. Crowley says he will come get her when he gets in there, and she tries to say no. Crowley shuts her up and tells her to be quiet until he can get to her, then she can scream at him. Bela is pissed but agrees. Crowley pops Bela to the cooler and then walks up to the bar.

6. At the bunker patience is working slowly trying not to worry, with no luck. She can hardly concentrate and starts talking to herself. Henry hears her muttering and comes to sit with her, telling her this is nothing, They will all be fine. Patience asks how does he know, and henry shrugs saying they always are, arent they, Plus we got demons on our side too. Inside the warehouse Sam and meg are being stealthy while looking around when a demon opens a door in front of them. Meg stops, but Sam keeps going shoving a knife into the chest of the random demon, hate and anger plain on his face.  They walk through the door to find 2 more demons in the hall guarding a door. Meg and Sam both take a demon and kill it (Free run it). When the demons are dead Sam opens the door and meg follows him in.

7. At the bar crowley walks through the door with 2 demons tailing him. The demons make him sit in a chair and wait for their leader. Parker walks in with ruby being dragged behind. He throws ruby on the floor and looks at crowley, who is confused to see ruby and not bobby. Parker says he knew Sam would go to ruby's aide so he brought her here instead, And Bobby is already dead, laughing about it. Crowley says he couldn't care about them, he just wants to kill Parker for trying to take the throne. Parker laughs even harder, saying he has no choice. Crowley smiles and retorts, then snaps his fingers, opening the cooler door letting Bela free. Parker laughs seeing nothing happen. Crowley just smiles and waits for parker to do something. In the cooler Bela has called patience and henry, telling them she's in the cooler waiting for crowley to open it. Patience asks if she's alright and Bela says she's freezing, even with Crowley’s coat on. The door opens and she tells patience she's gotta go kill some demons, and henry says to be careful. She hangs up and puts the phone inside the coat, walking out of the cooler with a blade in her hand. Walking quietly toward the front she finds no demons to kill, but sees crowley sitting in a chair and motions to him. He nods imperceptibly and Bela slips behind the bar unnoticed, waiting for her opportunity.

8. As Sam and meg walk into the room, they don't see ruby or jo, and they ask mastif where they are. mastif ignores this and says it's not who he thought would come, but that's OK. He has something to finish and they should enjoy the show. Sam and meg look at each other like wtf!? Mastif pins Sam against the wall as he walks up to meg shaking his head, wanting to know why she didn't join them. She says it's cuz they're stupid if they think they can remove crowley. Mastif shakes his head again and tells meg to join him now, she declines. He tsks at her and says he'll be right back, walking into another room. He returns with bobby, bruised and bleeding, his hands tied, being pushed in front of meg and Sam who are speechless that it's not ruby. Bobby looks up through a black eye and tries to smile, thankful someone came for him, mastif sits in a chair and pulls bobby down to the floor in front of him, stroking his hair affectionately. This makes Meg angry, and she pulls out another knife, advancing on the demon. Meg tells mastif to leave bobby alone, and Mastif waves his hand and meg drops one of her blades as she is thrown to the wall beside Sam. Sam’s eyes go wide in disbelief, trying to struggle to get free he calls to mastif. Mastif looks at Sam and raises an eyebrow in question. Sam says he's pathetic that he has to tie up and beat someone in order to get them to do anything, smirking at mastif. This angers Mastif, and he stands up abruptly making bobby fall flat on the floor next to meg's knife. He advances on Sam menacingly, asking him what he knows about it? Sam smiles wickedly and says one of these days the hostage will stab him in the back. Bobby is stunned for a moment from being dropped, then grabs the knife slowly, hiding it under his leg as he sits up. Meg looks at him and gives a small nod, bobby nods back with determination in his eyes. Mastif looks back at bobby and blows a kiss to him, then turns back to meg and Sam and asks what they think about his new boyfriend being one of their loved ones, he will be a "queen" in hell. Unknown to mastif bobby pulled himself up as he was speaking and ran to him holding the blade in his hand. As mastif says boyfriend bobby shoves the blade into his heart from the back, killing him. Bobby says in mastifs ear "not in his wildest dreams". Meg and Sam are released from the wall and stand up, thanking bobby. Sam asks if bobby heard anything about ruby, and he says she's at the bar. Sam says they need to go there now and looks at meg. Meg is unsure that's a good idea and says they should let patience and henry know about bobby. They agree and call patience and henry and they suggest bobby come back to the bunker. agreed upon, meg poofs bobby to the bunker, and herself and Sam to the bar.

9. With Bela behind the bar crowley looks at Parker and asks why he thinks he would be better at ruling hell than himself, and Parker tells crowley that he's gone soft and isn't really ruling over them. That he’s a lazy, pompous douchebag. Crowley smirks and says really? He snaps his fingers again and the demon to his left is transported back to hell chained to the wall. The demon on his right gets scared and tells parker they should have put crowley in a devils trap. Bela comes out from behind the bar at full tilt slamming a knife into the demon, saying no shit Sherlock. The demon falls to floor dead and crowley stands from his chair as Sam and meg appear behind Parker. Parker let's out an exasperated sound and turns to leave finding his way blocked by Sam and meg. He stares around at everyone with loathing in his eyes, finally turning toward the exit, he makes a mad dash for the door. He tries to open it but not before meg throws her demon killing blade at him. It hits him in the neck and Parker falls to the floor in a heap, dead. The team look at each other and Sam finally sees ruby and rushes to her. She tells him she's fine, and she just wants to go home. Sam says that's not a good idea, but soon. Crowley and Bela embrace each other and meg stands off to the side saying they should get back to the bunker. They agree and they all vanish to the bunker.

10. When Sam, Ruby, Bela, Meg and Crowley return to the bunker bobby is sitting at the map table with patience tending his wounds. They look up as the group arrive and patience says thank Goodness! Meg says sorry about just leaving all the cataloging to her, but patience says it’s ok. Sam tends to ruby's injuries as Bela asks crowley if this is always gonna happen to him (taking of the throne). He says probably, but not for a little while now that they put down the latest rebellion so quickly. Henry quips that will never end. Patience, finished tending Bobby, walks up to Sam and says she's sorry, but she couldn't concentrate enough to do much cataloging, Sam just gives her a sweet smile and says it's OK. Meg strolls over and tells patience that she will help now, and crowley and Bela can help too. Bela hearing this tells them she is Not a secretary and she’s not going to do it.  crowley tells her he will do the writing, and Bela pouts about it, but agrees. Bobby goes to bed, and Sam and ruby go back to Ruby's to clean up. Meg, patience, crowley and Bela get back to cataloging. having had a "fun filled day" they all laugh about it.

[pippytmi]

16 + 4 + 2 (werewolf supercorp?)

It is not uncommon for Kara to wake up in a puddle of blood.

At this point she is immune to the shock that comes with it, really. She has adapted; knows all the best tricks to get stains out of her clothes, knows all the best laundromats that don’t ask any questions. Heck, she even has Alex’s ex-girlfriend on speed dial, just in case there is a freak chance the blood Kara wakes up in might be human (it has not happened yet, knock on wood).

But there are other parts that still take some getting used to. Like, for example, the loss of memory that comes with every night of the full moon. Because yeah, she understands why she wakes up in a pool of blood. What she doesn’t understand is why this time around she wakes up in a pool of her own blood, and in so much pain that it hurts to open her eyes.

“Ow,” Kara whispers to herself, twisting onto her side with a groan. Her clothes are gone—no surprise—but even as she is laying down on the cold, rocky forest floor, the only thing she can focus on is how much her head hurts. She’s dealt with branch scratches, sore legs and arms, the occasional plethora of bug bites, but never a headache. Her one comfort is that at least she has made it into the backyard of Sam’s cabin. It takes a considerable amount of strength to push herself up off the ground; walking is going to be much harder than anticipated.

If Alex saw her now, she'd—well first she would hit Kara over the head and yell at her about being dumb, but afterwards she would snicker. And probably hit her over the head again for good measure.

“Oh my God—!”

Okay, it’s official. Kara is now dead. Even if the stranger gawking at her is not the one who kills her, Alex definitely will.

And it’s that thought that makes Kara drop right back down on the floor, knocking the wind right out of her lungs, and she groans into the dirt pitifully.

“Oh, fuck,” the stranger whispers, almost as if to herself, scrambling to come to Kara’s side. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck!” Said stranger belatedly claps a hand over her mouth, green eyes widening in horror. “Holy shit, are you alive?”

Kara pitifully rests her cheek against the ground and tries not to look too offended. “Uh, kind of,” she replies. (So this must not be Sam’s cabin, then.) “Sorry. Am I in your yard? It is a very nice yard. Five stars.”

“No, it’s not my—I’m house-sitting,” the woman explains, though she is giving Kara a look that says really? That’s what you want to focus on right now?

“Well, it’s still a nice place,” Kara says, because she is polite and small talk is always a good thing to fall back on when you’re naked on a pile of dead leaves. “Wait, I don’t suppose you’re house-sitting for Sam, are you? Sam Arias, super tall, has a daughter who is freakishly good at checkers?”

Stranger-who-swears-like-a-sailor frowns. “How do you know Sam?” she asks suspiciously.

“She dated my sister. It was a whole—it’s a thing,” Kara says. “You know?”

“Wait. Are you Kara? Are you Alex’s sister?”

“Yes! So you do know!” Kara would grin if her face were capable of any emotion besides mind-shattering pain. “Then you must be Sam’s friend…uh, bear with me…Lena? Or Jess?”

“Lena,” says the woman, still notably wary, so Kara makes the decision to wiggle until she can prop herself up her elbows and look less, well, like a corpse.

“Hey, got it in one!” Kara says as cheerfully as she can muster. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. And can I just—uh, say—that you don’t have to worry. I won’t die here or anything. I know you would obviously be the number one suspect for murder and it wouldn’t be nice of me to put you through that.”

“…right. Never mind that you would be dead, or anything.” Lena begins to shakily unbutton her coat like a woman possessed, as if her doubt has morphed entirely into concern now that she has confirmation the freak naked in Sam’s backyard is not an entire stranger. “Here, this is long enough to cover you. Do you—do you need help getting up?”

“No, no, I’ve got it, thank you,” Kara insists, and gradually, she manages; she shifts sideways and then tentatively onto her butt, and accepts the coat when it’s all but thrown at her face. There is blood mixed in with the leaves and general guck beneath her, and she winces at the sight. “I’ll come back and clean this later,” she’s quick to add, and Lena frowns in response.

“Are you serious? Forget cleaning, you need—stitches, at the very least. I can take you to the hospital if—”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that!” Kara blurts out, and with the adrenaline from that burst of energy she’s able to scramble to her feet. She is shaky, unsteady, but she manages to stay upright at least and she’ll count that as a win. “Shoot. I’m sorry for yelling. I just—no hospitals. I can’t do hospitals.” She has never had to form an excuse for this, and her mouth can’t quite wrap around the right words.

But Lena—green eyes wide and unsure, skin pale in the early morning light—nods, like she understands. “Okay,” she says. “No hospitals.”

“Thanks,” Kara mumbles, wrapping the coat tightly around herself. There are startling black spots in her vision and her head still feels like it was used as a piñata; she wonders what the heck her next move should be now. If Sam needs someone to house-sit, she must be out of the city. And if Sam is out of the city, Kara can’t exactly waltz into Sam’s house to wash all the blood off her body (and then call up Alex from the couch while stealing whatever ice cream Ruby picked). Sam lets her do that, sure, but that’s Sam. It would be pretty rude to do that when Lena is right here.

“Do you…” And Lena pauses, nose scrunching up as if something has just occurred to her. “I can give you a ride somewhere else, if you’d like. Back to your house?”

“No, that’s okay,” Kara hurries to decline, because how can she really explain that she lives in an apartment, and that if little old Mrs. Jensen saw her coming up covered in blood she’d finally succumb to her third heart attack? “Can I just use Sam’s phone to call my sister? Then I’ll come right back out here, I promise.”

“Why would you come back out here again?” Underneath her coat, Lena is wearing plaid pajama pants that are rolled at the ankle (Sam’s, most likely), and a tank top that is extremely fitted. Very, very well fitted. Like, you-can-tell-it’s-frigidly-cold-outside-kind-of-fitted.

Kara coughs and tries not to let on how her train of thought has twisted. “Because…I’m a stranger?” she tries. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Remember, if you die I’m going to be the first one they question,” Lena says, tilting her head expectantly in the direction of Sam’s cabin. “Come inside, warm up. Call your sister.” All things considered, she is far more concerned than Kara expected her to be—as if, somehow, ridding herself of the weirdo walking around bloody and probably concussed isn’t the very first thing on Lena’s mind.

So Kara doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth; she accepts the offer. It’s a small comfort that if she really does get murdered by a total stranger, it won’t be while cold and naked.

Lena goes right into Sam’s room the instant they go inside, already gathering a million outfits for Kara to pick through. “The shower is fickle, but it does have hot water,” she says, adding a towel to the pile in Kara’s arms when she re-emerges. “You just have to—”

“Hit the wall twice, and give it a few seconds,” Kara finishes. “Yeah, Sam reminds me every time.”

“So you…visit Sam often, do you?”

“Uh.” And suddenly, despite the long, cold night she’s had, the air indoors feels a bit warmer than is comfortable. “Only sometimes.” Once a month, Kara thinks, and Lena crosses her arms and just stares.

Really stares, dragging those sharp green eyes up and down Kara’s whole body. Squints at the scratches on her face, scrunches her nose at the way Kara awkwardly shifts from side to side. Finally Lena speaks, and it’s only to say, “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“...come again?”

“It’s you. Sam told me she’s been helping out a friend with a—furry predicament—”

If it were possible to choke on air, Kara would be dead right now. “Did she really call it furry? But she’s also—!” She has to pause, now, because she feels an urge to clarify, “Wait. Are we talking about the same thing right now?”

Lena narrows her eyes slightly. “You mean talking about how you’re a werewolf?”

“Oh!” Head lighter, Kara sucks in a laugh that makes her ribs feel like they are splintering open. “Then yes. That’s good, I didn’t want you to think I was a—anyway. I didn’t think Sam told anyone.”

“Sam and I have been friends for a long time,” Lena says slowly. A beat. “She actually ate my hamster once.”

Kara winces. “Recently?”

“No! Back in the fifth grade,” Lena frowns, like she might’ve added dumbass at the end of the sentence. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t own hamsters.”

“What? Come on, having pets isn’t just a kid thing,” Kara says. “I used to have a cat, but he…”

“Oh my God, you ate him?”

Kara’s jaw drops. “What—no! He turned out to already have an owner, so she took him back. He just liked to wander into my apartment.” She hugs the clothing pile tighter to her chest, and tries her hardest to scowl. “I’m responsible, okay? Most of the time. I’m not dangerous.”

“Except to deer, or rabbits, or whatever else you killed last night?” Lena quirks an eyebrow, but surprisingly not in a manner that’s judge-y. Just…curious.

“Right,” Kara says defeatedly, and her head throbs enough that her grip on Sam’s clothes begins to falter. “Sorry. I wasn't trying to be defensive or anything.”

“That's alright.” And stranger still, Lena reaches out to gently touch the side of Kara’s head. “So does the same thing happen to you?”

“Huh?” The proximity has scrambled Kara’s brain momentarily, and she finds herself unthinkingly holding her breath.

“Do you also black out,” Lena clarifies. “Like Sam does, every time she shifts.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s—a universal wolf thing,” Kara says.

Lena hums, and her hand retracts. “And are you a serial killer in wolf form?”

“Uh, I hope not? I’m pretty sure all this is…” Kara gestures over her body with one hand, still hugging the pile of clothes with the other. “Not human.”

“Okay.” Lena casually walks away, but pauses to throw over her shoulder, “I’ll help you clean up your head once you’re out of the shower. I’ve helped Sam a hundred times.”

“Are you—do you have some kind of healing magic, or—”

“Close. I’m an ER nurse,” Lena says amusedly, and when she smiles a dimple emerges on one cheek. “All the witches I know have fled the city, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“You joke, but Alex dated this witch once, and she hexed my sister to spill her first sip of coffee every time she went to take a drink for three weeks straight after they broke up,” Kara says, and Lena again scrunches her nose in that quizzical way.

“Seriously? Witches are real too?”

“Duh,” Kara says lightly. “What, you thought it stopped at werewolves? Please. I’m pretty sure the neighbor two doors down is a gorgon.”

“Well, it would explain her fondness of statues,” Lena says, strangely nonplussed. “I’ve never asked, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at this point. How do you take your coffee?” As she asks, Lena deposits a few fingers of whiskey into a mug, and at Kara’s questioning look says, “Sorry, we’re all out of painkillers. This is as good as you’re going to get.”

“Maybe I’ll do better if it’s straight,” Kara says, unable to hide her grimace, while Lena shrugs a shoulder as if to say it’s your funeral.

So after Kara showers, she sits on the couch and sips gross whiskey out of a chipped mug that reads World’s Best Mom in bright pink letters. Lena has turned on the TV to the local news station—clearly she has stayed with Sam before—and a man on screen is recounting a tale of how he hit a giant wolf strolling too close to his farm with a baseball bat.

“If I had my shotgun I would’ve killed the fucker,” he swears, red in the face, and above her Lena gives a little scoff.

“What a dick,” Lena says, her hand steadily stitching up the wound on Kara’s scalp, and her voice has a hint of an accent; it’s really cute, actually, and Kara doesn’t even mind that the next poke of the needle is sharper than the others.

It is the strangest morning Kara has ever had. Drinking whiskey before eight in the morning, with a kind stranger who she’s barely met but is suturing her skin together, who smells faintly of lavender soap and strong black coffee.

“—National City is not safe when wolves are wandering close to homes—”

The scent of rich hot chocolate bubbling on the stove is beginning to fill the room, the ancient pipes are rumbling throughout the walls, and Lena’s fingers are soft against her head. Kara closes her eyes and decides that she will wait a little longer before she calls Alex to pick her up.

#i tried my best but tbh i dont know much of werewolf lore ? so i tried to go w/these two being soft #& autumn vibes of course #supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #writing a meet messy is HARD idk how to make them cute !!

[parkersbliss]

hey could i request a kaz fic with prompts: 001, 007 and 041? pleasee let it end in fluff i can’t bare angst after your last fic lol <3

yes ofc ofc, kaz fluff for you

Dead Man | K. Brekker

prompts: 001: “Why do you care?” 007: “Give me one good reason.” 041: “I cant stand the sight of you in someone else’s arms!”

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

Kaz wasn’t a jealous person. That’s what he tells himself, but he believes it’s far from true. Then again, he didn’t have to believe it to be true. He seems to lie to himself a lot. He’s also noticed he seems to lie a lot more when you’re involved.

His favorite lie would have to be, I’m not in love with (Y/N). He definitely was.

But Kaz Brekker was too prideful to ever admit that. Being in love gave you a weakness, and Kaz was not weak. Far from it, actually. He was the most feared man in Ketterdam. There was a reason he was successful, and that was simply because he didn’t have a weakness.

Well, a weakness that people knew about.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jesper asked, casting a sideways glance at you.

Kaz rolls his eyes, slamming his hands down on the table. “Unless you have a better one, I suggest you shut up.”

Jesper opens his mouth to object, but he shakes his head and shuts up.

Good, he knows better.

“Looking good is a Jesper talent, isn’t it?”

Jesper straightens his back and his jacket, brushing his thumb against his lip. “Why yes, it is.”

“Then I don’t see the problem. You just have to do it with (Y/N).”

You nod, bumping shoulders with the Zemeni boy. “Yeah, we could be a great power couple.”

Jesper laughs nervously, looking at Kaz and seeing the slightest hint of murder in his eyes. There was nothing wrong with the plan except the part where Jesper has to play your boyfriend when Kaz has the biggest crush on you known to man. Jesper knew better than to get in his way. He would really prefer to keep his life than get his head chopped off with a single look.

“You both know your target?” Kaz asked.

You and Jesper nod.

“Good. Get in, get the info and get out. No gambling and no drinking.” He points an accusing finger at Jesper. “I don’t think I have to explain that to you, (Y/N). Any objections?”

Jesper shakily raises his hand. “Yes, so why can’t you go as (Y/N)’s boyfriend?”

Inej looks to Jesper with raised eyebrows. “Are you serious right now?”

“I just think that they would make a more convincing couple!”

“Jesper,” Kaz said lowly, and he knows he’s in for it. “When I say you’re posing as (Y/N)’s boyfriend, you are posing as her boyfriend. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Jesper squeaks.

Kaz pulls back, slapping his cane on the ground and leaning his hands on it. When Jesper doesn’t move, he rolls his eyes, “Well, get to it!”

“Right!” Jesper said, scrambling to get out of the room.

“He seems awfully nervous,” You said.

“I’ll go check on him,” Inej said, passing by you with a smile.

That leaves you and Kaz.

“You were a bit harsh on him, don’t you think?” You asked.

Kaz shrugs. “Not really. It’s Jesper.”

“I think you scared the poor boy half to death.”

Kaz raises a single brow at you. “I don’t see an issue. He still has half to go.”

You let out a soft chuckle, and Kaz swears his heart stops for just a moment. He could listen to it forever.

“Is there a reason you’re so adamant about him being my fake boyfriend?”

“He’s the best choice.”

“Right.”

“You beg to differ?”

You shake your head, “Not at all.”

Kaz knows you did, but he doesn’t say anything. “You should get ready.”

You nod, “Yeah, I should. I’ll see you after, boss.”

…

“Wow,” Jesper said, offering his arm to you. “You look dazzling.”

“I learn from the best,” You wink, looping your arm through his.

Kaz’s lips are pursed into a straight line, and Jesper will be grateful when he’s out of his sight and range.

“Inej and I will be across the street. You know what to do if it goes south.”

“Sure do, Boss,” Jesper replied, eager to leave.

Kaz nods, stepping back, and you both enter the club. He leads you towards the bar and takes a seat. You stand next to him, scanning the crowd for the target.

“Put your arm around my waist,” You hiss to Jesper when you spot him.

“I don’t know about that,” Jesper laughed nervously.

“Jesper.”

“Okay!”

He slips an arm around your waist, nervously looking around to ensure Kaz can’t see. When he’s sure he’s safe, he relaxes a bit more. Everything goes smooth as you wait for your target to come over. You didn’t want to lure him in case that made you both more suspicious. It takes longer than both of you want, but eventually, he makes it to the only open seat in the bar; the one next to you.

He orders a few shots and Jesper makes the first move. “Rough night?”

He groans. “You have no idea.”

“Try me.”

“I’m Archer,” The target said, but of course, you already knew that. He was working for a Mercher, who rumor had it - recently imported something worth millions. Kaz wanted to know what it was and if it was worth it.

“Roman,” Jesper grinned, sticking out a hand.

“And what about this pretty lady?”

You gave him your fake name with a smile as you shuffle closer to Jesper.

“Boss is treating me like shit,” Archer groans, taking a shot. Jesper offers to pay for more. The tipsier he got, the more he would spill. “We got this new import the other week, been on high security since. Doubled my hours, didn’t double my pay.”

“New import? What could be so valuable?”

Archer shrugs. “I have no idea. Not allowed to tell, anyway. Sorry bud.”

“That’s a damn shame.”

Archer leans in, alcohol evident in his breath and you almost choke. “Between you and me, I think it’s some new weapon from Novyi Zem.”

There it was.

Jesper raises his brows. “Do you know what kind?”

“Some kind of gun, or guns.”

Jesper leans back. “Huh. I assume he keeps them in the back.”

Archer shakes his head. “No, he’s too cautious with this. He keeps in the vault in the basement.”

“A vault? Must be worth a lot.”

“Top security clearance. He has it scan his eyes, then his fingerprint and a password to get in.”

“My god,” Jesper laughed. “That’s a lot.”

Archer takes another shot. “You’re telling me.”

You don’t say much, playing the part of dumb arm candy. Your eyes wander the club when you spot a familiar face. He’s walking towards you.

You take a deep breath, turning your head to Jesper. You lean in to whisper, “We got someone coming towards us. He knows us. We need to hide.”

“How?”

“Kiss me.”

“You are out of your mind,” Jesper hisses. God, if Kaz found out, he would be dead in seconds.

“It’s that or death. I promise I don’t bite.”

“Are you two okay?” Archer asked.

Jesper coughs, pushing you off. “Yes, the misses it just eager to get home.”

Archer nods. “I see. I should get going too.”

Jesper lets him. You already got enough information.

“Jesper,” You whisper, tugging on his coat.

He was a dead man either way.

He grabs your face, kissing you with his eyes closed. It doesn’t mean anything to either of you. It’s just the difference between life and death for now. He can see the person leave out of the corner of his eyes. He’s about to pull back when a cane slams the bar floor. Jesper jumps back.

He is so dead.

Kaz's eyes blaze with something much more than rage, and Jesper doesn’t doubt it’s for him.

“Kaz,” you breathe out.

“We’re done here.”

Jesper stands up from the bar, letting go of you. “Yes, we are.”

He practically runs out of there, leaving you with a very pissed-off Kaz.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

He ignores you and walks away.

“Kaz?” You shout, catching up with him.

“What?” He snaps, never looking at you as you walk back to the slat. Jesper was gone, probably hiding somewhere. Inej was covering for him, but Kaz pays no mind.

“We got the information. Why are you so mad?”

Kaz throws open the door to his office, standing behind his desk and finally looking up. “You want to know why I’m so mad?”

“Yes!”

“Because you kissed Jesper!”

“What?” You asked. You couldn’t understand why he was so mad about that. He was the one who assigned him as your partner. “Why do you care?”

It’s not meant to come off rude, you just didn’t understand.

Kaz purses his lips and looks the other way. He can’t bring himself to say why; he won’t admit his weakness.

“Give me one good reason,” You beg. “I’m not mad at you, Kaz. I just don’t underst-”

“I can’t stand the sight of you in someone else’s arms!”

That’s not what you expected. However, it makes your stomach do flips. You swallow the butterflies.

“Then why did you partner Jesper and me together?” You asked softly.

Kaz sighs, “I thought I could prove to myself that I wasn’t in love with you by seeing you with him.”

You snort. “And how did that work out?”

“It didn’t.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

Kaz can hear the mischief in your voice. He’s expecting rejection, but you sound happy.

“I think I’m going to admit that I’m in love with you,” he said, turning back around to face you.

“Well, that’s good,” You grin, grabbing his coat and pulling him the slightest bit closer. He doesn’t pull away. “Cause I’m in love with you too.”

#poor jesper man 😭 #kaz is just grilling him #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker one shot #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #soc #six of crows imagine #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #shadow and bone

[magicxc]

Longing For

Pairings: Lil Bibby x Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 782

Warnings: Car Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink

BBJ Masterlist

Lets be real he’s a hood nigga; keeping that thing on him at all times, just in case shit goes sideways. He’s always on the move, always alert, and always resourceful. Growing up, when he couldn’t afford an iron he’d use a boiling pot of hot water. When he needed an influx of money he’d turn a cash amount of $50 and find a way to flip it into $200. And so it should come as no surprise that he’d make space for us to fuck in the backseat of his car.

His parents are visiting us for the weekend and as we made our way back home from a store run, he decided that now was the perfect time to have sex. As if they more than likely didn’t hear us just pull up. As if he can’t wait until we get to our bedroom later on tonight. As if I could deny him to begin with.

One leg draped over the headrest of the front seat and the other locked around his arm, I feel every bit of a delicious ass pretzel.

Clothes are stripped and limbs get intertwined meanwhile my back is being blown the fuck out. The car shakes violently as Bibby pounds into me and for a second I almost grow concerned at the fact that we may get caught - that is until I feel myself soak the seat beneath us.

Hunching over me to envelop my lips in a sloppy kiss, I grab a hold of his shoulders and drag him closer to me; opening my mouth to let my tongue slither free. Rolling it across his bottom lip, I work my way further down, leaving wet trails in its wake as I suck over the sweet spot beneath his jaw.

A shudder escapes his body which has him rolling his hips into me at the perfect angle and I wrap my legs around his waist, toes clenching at the intimate sensation. Raising above me Bibby pulls away, eyes burning with desire, and reminds me that I should be very careful not to lock my legs around him.

“Babyyy,” I whine. “Don’t be like that, I just want you extra close.”

“Imma be the reason you miss your next period if you don’t stop fucking around,” he growls.

I can’t see for myself in such dim lighting, but if now were ever a time for me to cream I’m sure I just did it. And the fact that I’m egging him on probably doesn’t help.

“You promise?” I ask, eyes glossed over.

And that must’ve set him off, because now he’s driving into me with vigor. My head bumps against the door handle and the ache that's sure to form is a small price to pay if it means I can cum for a third time tonight.

Being the expert of my body that he is, Bibby takes his thumb and presses it against my clit applying maximin fucking pleasure. The howl I let out is sure to give us away, but the way my head starts to spin I couldn’t care less.

Coupled with his reckless pounding, I'm surprised this car is still sitting on four tires at this point and before I know it, my legs lock up around his hips and my body goes stiff as I hit the height of my climax. My vision goes black for a few concerning seconds as stars float behind my lids. But it’s only until I feel Bibbys warm spend splatter my walls do I come down from my high.

He’s mumbling something in my ear that I can’t quite make out, though the only thing on my mind is picking out baby names. A heavy drowsiness washes over me but before I can close my eyes, a sliver of light from underneath the doorway shines through the dark garage and my slowing heart rate picks up in speed.

With Bibby's face craned beside mine, leaving behind slobbery kisses, he’s unaware of my line of vision. But the creak of the door opening has him whipping his head backward, panic quickly setting in his features as we both scramble up and into the seats.

Even in my post nut clarity I can't bring myself to find a plausible excuse as to why we’re in our current predicament, shit I’m really moving on autopilot right now. But as I stare through these fog filled windows, mind flustered and body riddled with sweat; the only thoughts I can manage is how I want Bibby to take me inside, throw me on the bed, and show me the type of shooter that he really is.

#EmmyWrites #EmmyTries #LilBibbyxBlack!Fem!Reader #LilBibby #Black!Fem!Reader #MyDrabbles #BlackBoyJoy #BlackReader

[persephones-wren]

heyy! Could I request a Kaz brekker and reader fic where shes really sensitive and kind and the opposite of him and they're dating but he seems to be spending more time with inej planning a heist and reader gets jealous and during the heist she saved inej from a bullet, getting hurt in the process and tells Kaz,in a delirious state, that shes happy she saved inej for him and everyone helps him plan a picnic for her while shes healing and suprises her? Its quite a long request but it would be wonderful if you wrote it!! thanks💕

Ends of the Earth (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

Hope you enjoy reading! I had a lot of fun writing it :)

Warnings: reader gets shot, that's about it?

Genre: Angst to (minimal) Fluff

Word Count: 2126

You’re not sure how you could have ever expected him to return what you felt for him.

You and Kaz were essentially opposites- he was a hardened criminal, you were more of a person who just ran with the wrong people. He was mean and commanding, you were sweet and endearing. Where he’d kill people with no hesitation, you’d probably be torn over it for the rest of your life.

Though the Barrel seemed to have no room for someone as kind as you, you had found yourself to fit fine along with rest as someone to watch over the rest. Your skill of memorization was appreciated when Kaz needed to reflect back on a certain part of the plan, and besides, having someone counteract his cruelty was appreciated by the others.

Sometimes, like now, it was hard to be a part of the Crows. Watching Inej stand by his side, watching them work together like well-oiled parts of the same machine, it was bittersweet. You couldn’t help the jealousy that overtook you, but kindness was ingrained in you. You couldn’t hate him. You couldn’t hate Inej.

“So we’ll take them out there. Inej, I’m going to need your backup here.” His voice snaps you back into the moment.

“Got it.” She nods.

“Before then, though, You’ll be stationed here. Y/N, I’m going to want you to stick close to her. She can fight for the both of you in case anything goes wrong.”

You’re useless, you berate yourself. You’re going to need Inej to save you. Maybe if you could defend yourself the way she could, he’d like you more.

“Understood.”

“That should wrap everything up. We’ll meet at the usual spot tonight. We’ll take transport there and sneak in. From there, everything should go according to plan.”

…

Night quickly falls, and you’re all gathered.

“To reiterate, I’m going to go grab the paintings. Inej and Y/N, stick together and communicate when it’s safe. Jesper, you’re going to shoot out the lights when signaled, and make sure that carriages are ready when it’s time. Wylan, wait it out here with him. If all goes to shit, blow this place. Clear?”

Echoes of agreement echo from around you, and you nod. This should be an easy heist.

“Y/N, c’mon. Let’s head over this way.”

Inej takes your wrist and leads you to the edge of the building. Her stare is intimidating as she surveys the building, before turning back to you.

“I’ll scale the walls, and then I’ll use the rope to pull you up. We can wait on the top of the building for a bit, before slipping in through a window. That okay?”

Damn her for even being considerate to you. And you still have the nerve to be jealous over her. Her and Kaz are so similar- they’d be perfect for each other.

You still can’t find it in your heart to be completely happy about that.

“Y/N? You alright?”

“Huh?” you snap out of your reverie, and give a bashful smile. “Yeah, that’s good. I’ll spot you. Hopefully I’ll be able to get up there…”

Inej throws you a reassuring smile back. “You’ll be okay.”

You watch with awe as she scales the building with no issue, truly living up to the nickname she had been given. She’s nearly invisible as she reaches the top, you note. She’s incredible.

You wait on the ground patiently as Inej lowers the rope, before you hear voices.

You stare up at her, wide-eyed, before running and diving behind a tree.

“The wine good tonight?”

It’s a guard. Your heart rate quickens, and bring a hand over your mouth. Quiet your breathing. If they catch you, you’re dead, and you’ll be the dead weight of this mission.

“I don’t know, haven’t had a drink yet. Maybe once everyone’s gone. Ha! The Stadwatch won't penalize me if there’s no guests to guard!”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit! All we have to make sure is no scum tries to steal the painting.”

“Like anybody would dare show their face here.”

The other guard laughs, and you wait with baited breath as they finally round the corner.

You check both directions, before you quietly slip out.

“Inej?” you’re quiet and slightly shaken. Death and capture was always palpable on these missions, but it had come swinging at you quicker than you had expected. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” her voice comes from above. “I’m here. You’re fast on your feet. Good thinking.”

“Thank you, and thank you for waiting.”

The rope drops down for the second time, and you take a hold of it, pulling yourself up with a bit of her help. Your hands finally grasp the ledge of the building, and Inej extends one of her hands to help pull you up. You’re hauled onto the rooftop, and though it’s a bit ungraceful, you’re okay.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“No problem.”

Your eyes are both directed on the walkways below.

“You scout out for guards down there, and I’ll check for guards in the windows? We should signal to Kaz soon.”

“Sure.”

You keep a careful eye down below, hearing Inej scurry to different window points. You watch as she slips to one of them, peering through.

“Just our luck,” she mutters cheerfully. “This window’s fine. Let’s open it. I’ll go first, but send a flare for Kaz. I’m going to need that window open as soon as that flare goes up.”

“Alright.” You take a deep breath, before shooting the flare off. Inej thrusts open the window and pulls you in behind her.

You watch a figure walk past the doorway. That should be Kaz, and now, he should be slipping past you to go to the next doorway to take the painting-

“To the roof again, now-” Inej says, and starts to step out behind the boxes, and the figure turns back.

That’s not Kaz.

A click.

She’s going to be shot.

You’re acting on pure impulse and nerves when you shove her aside, and the bullet pierces through your shoulder. You crumble, and Inej tries to keep you from completely collapsing.

You grit your teeth. You’re trying not to let tears stream down your face, but everything hurts and Inej is over you and she’s saying something but you can’t hear her-

You try to force yourself to sit up, and you see a cane poised to hit the guard over the head. You turn away, and thank your murky hearing that you can’t hear the scream that emits from the guard.

Kaz.

“What happened?” His voice is losing it’s cool quickly.

“She was shot by the guard, I don’t think she’s quite registering it-” Inej’s voice is more panicked, but she forces herself to be analytical. “She’s going to need treatment, and quickly.”

“Okay,” he breathes in sharply. “Okay. Go down the hall, grab the paintings, and meet Jesper by the transportation. I’ll get her out.”

“Okay.”

Inej dashes down the hall, and he takes in your state. Your pupils are blown wide, and you’re trying not to cry, but it hurts.

“Kaz,” you breathe out. “Thank the Saints. Is Inej okay?”

He frowns at that. What about Inej? Inej was fine, you’d been shot. Did you have no self-preservation instincts?

“Inej is fine,” he mutters.

“That’s good,” you sigh out. “That’s good. I don’t quite think I’m going to make it out here alive, so just in case I don’t, I love you. Though I’m glad she’s okay, for your sake.”

His frown deepens. “I’m sorry? For my sake?”

“You’re in love with her. She with you. You guys can live your happy ending. As happy as the Barrel can get, anyway.” Your smile is slightly delirious, and he knows you’re not thinking rationally.

“Stop talking.”

“I’m sorry, are you mad at me? Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t-” you cough, “think I’d die, but if it’s for you and Inej, then I think it’s worth it.”

“Nobody is worth your life,” he nearly yells. “You’re not going to die, Y/N. I won’t allow it.”

“Please, just let me stay here. They’re going to find you if you don’t.” “I don’t care.”

He’s pulling off his jacket and carefully using it as a tourniquet for your shoulder.

“Can you walk?”

“Kaz, please-”

“Can you walk.” It’s a statement, maybe a threat.

“Maybe- maybe with a bit of support,” your words are weak. You’re running out of time. “The world looks sideways, though- face it, Kaz, I’m not going to make it. I don’t want to be dead weight, your touch aver-”

“I’m not going to combust into fucking flames if you lean on me! Goddamnit, let me help you!”

His anger startles you. You hold back more tears as he pulls you up. At least he took the care to pull you up by the other arm. “Okay.”

The world is spinning and his face isn’t clear, and time seems to speed up as both of you go through the hallways, finally meeting Jesper and Inej in the courtyard.

“Bloody hell,” Jesper mutters.

“Go. To the White Rose. Nina should be able to do something.” Kaz leaves no room for argument. You’re passed out now, and he’s almost thankful you can’t feel anything as the carriage rushes through harsh weather and bumpy roads.

I don’t quite think I’m going to make it out here alive, so just in case I don’t, I love you.

Were you that oblivious? Did you think he was in love with Inej? How could you be so blind?

How could you sacrifice yourself so he could live what you thought to be a “happy ending”?

You didn’t plan it, did you?

He carefully takes off one of his gloves, hovering his hand over your forehead.

You’re still warm.

He doesn’t believe in Saints, but now, he’s almost praying to them that you’ll be okay.

Please be okay.

...

Inej glances at Kaz, standing over her in the White Rose.

She’s been out for days at this point. Nina could only do so much, with whatever corpse-like power she’d gained. The rest had to be natural healing.

Inej clears her throat. “She’d go to the ends of the world for you. For your happiness.” Kaz remains still.

“Don’t make her do so again.”

..

Your eyes flutter open, the brightness of the room nearly rendering you blind.

Your shoulder hurts like a bitch, but besides that, you’re alive.

Happiness and heaviness fill your heart at once. You’re alive, you’re okay. What had you said to Kaz in your state?

Hopefully nothing stupid.

“You’re awake. I’m glad.”

Kaz’s voice comes from the edge of the room. He’s leaning on the wall, cane in hand. When was Kaz upfront with his emotions?

“Yeah. How long was I out for?”

“A couple of days.”

“Days?” Your voice cracks. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

That’s a lie. You thought you were dead, for sure. He doesn’t have to know that.

“...Right.” He’s skeptical, but pushes himself off the wall and makes his way over to you. “This may be a bit early, but would you want to go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Is he kicking you out of the Crows? Why would he want to go on a walk just after you’ve woken up? You’re screwed.

He waits for you to stand, and then you’re both walking side by side, into the gardens of the courtyard. He doesn’t say anything, just leads you to a small place under an apple tree. A picnic blanket is spread out, with a small basket laying on top of it.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and a brief smile flashes across his face. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“Kaz- what is all of this?”

“You said you loved me.”

Horror paints across your face, and you lower your head in shame. “I’m sorry, I didn’t, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, I know you love Inej, that- was a bit unprompted of me, I’m sorry-”

He blinks at your rushed words. “Y/N. I’m not in love with Inej. She’s part of the Crows, as are you. Though- if you mean it,” he clears his throat, “that you love me- then take this as a surprise first date.”

Your expression morphs into a shy smile. He’s probably not ready to say it back. It doesn’t matter. He feels the same way.

“Happy first date, then.”

You’re both talking and eating, small smiles on both of your faces, a stark contrast to the harsh atmosphere of Ketterdam. It doesn’t matter to him. You’re alive, you’re safe, and you’re with him. You’d go to the end of the world for him. He’d do the same for you.

He loves you.

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #six of crows #six of crows x reader #soc kaz #soc x reader #kaz x reader #kaz brekker x reader #kaz rietveld #kaz brekker imagine #thank you for the request! #request

[the-atlas-sister]

Chapter Six

"So, you're from the past?" you asked Five. You two were walking along an empty road, pulling a red wagon.

"Yes," Five answered.

"How is that possible?" you questioned.

"Do you remember those kids, who had superpowers?" Fiver sighed.

"I mean I wasn't born when they were around, but, yes," you said.

"I'm one of them," Five said.

"And you can time travel?" you asked.

"As well as perform spacial jumps," Five added.

"Spacial whats?" you said, scrunching up your face.

Five smirked cockily before disappearing. You looked around, amazed by this boy's show of power. "Boo." You let out a yelp, spinning around to come face to face with a smirking Five.

"So, you can teleport!" you exclaimed, not noticing the close proximity to Five.

"I- yes," Five said.

"That's really cool," you said, grinning like a child.

"Thanks."

****

Your eyes snapped open and you let out a shaky breath as Luther stopped the car on the side of the road. After a lot of arguing, Five had finally agreed to let you go with him and Luther to execute their plan, as long as you stayed in the car.

Five unbuckled before looking around. "You know, I never enjoyed it," he sighed.

"What?" Luther asked.

"The killing," Five stated simply. "I mean, I was... I was good at my work and I... I took pride in it." He stopped to look at Luther. "But it never gave me pleasure." He sighed again. "I think it was all those years alone." You looked at him, feeling a bit hurt. Although you didn't remember any of you and Five's time together, you know you indeed were- together. He hadn't been alone. He had you. Didn't he? "Solitude can do funny things to the mind."

"Yeah, well, you were gone for such a long time," Luther said. "I only spent four years on the moon, but that was more than enough." You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the fact that Luther was relating time on the moon, to living in the apocalypse alone. "It's the being alone that breaks you." Luther and Five sat in silence.

"Do you think they'll buy it?" you asked, motioning to the fake briefcase.

"Well, all I do know is that they're desperate," Five stated. "It's like a cop losing his gun. If the Commission finds out, they'll be in deep shit. And well, not to mention the fact that they'll be stuck here until they get it back."

"Well, I should hold onto it," Luther said.

"Hm?" Five glanced at his brother questionably.

"In case they make a move on you," Luther continued.

"Wait," you said softly. The fact that Five could get hurt dawned on you. You might not have spent a long time with the time traveler, but you couldn't help but feel connected.

"Okay, Luther, but be careful," Five said, genuine worry in his eyes. "I mean, I've... I've lived a long life, but, you're still a young man. You got your whole life ahead of you." Luther looked at him, as if, well as if a 13-year-old boy was telling him he was the young man. "Don't waste it." You let out a laugh, before covering your mouth. Five looked at you as you help back more laughter. "I'm 58, remember?" he said, grabbing your free hand.

"Look," you said suddenly, pointing to a car appearing on the horizon.

"Here we go," Five said. "Stay inside the car, remember?" He looked at you. You nodded at Five kissed your hand softly before getting out of the car. Luther followed quickly before walking into the street.

You watched as the other car pulled up to the other side of the road. "If this all goes sideways," you heard Five say to Luther, making your stomach churn. "Do me a favor and tell Y/N, I'm sorry."

You bit your lip, staring at the raven-haired boy through the window as he began to approach the two people in masks who had exited the car.

You watched them talk, although you couldn't hear from inside the car. You watched as the two threw off their masks.

You noticed Five looks at the car then back to the two. You reached for the door handle urgently as you watched the woman pull out a gun and point it at Five.

Luther placed a hand on the door and shook his head at you.

The woman lowered the gun and approached a nearby telephone booth as Five approached the car again. He leaned on the back of the car as Luther stood next to him.

"What happens now?" you heard Luther ask.

"Now we wait," Five said. You looked at them through the back window.

Then, out of nowhere, a jolly tune was heard. You looked on the horizon, only to see an ice cream truck driving your way.

"What the heck?" you asked aloud.

"Is that her?" you heard Luther ask, although you doubted it. Then, a large grin appeared on your face as you noticed Klaus, waving at you from the driver's side of the truck.

"Klaus!" you exclaimed.

"What the hell is he doing here?" you heard Five say.

Suddenly, the two people pulled out their guns and shoot at Five and Luther. You hopped out of the car and grabbed Five's hand-

Five's POV

Five poked his head out from behind a frozen Luther. He glanced at your frozen figure, your face full of terror, and your hand in his. He gently pried his hand from yours before walking around Luther.

That's when he noticed her.

"Hello, Five," the Handler said, taking off her sunglasses. "You look good, all things considered."

"It's good to see you again," Five said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Feels like we met, just yesterday," the Handler said. "Course, you were a bit older then." She smiled. "Congratulations. On the age regression by the way. Very clever. Threw us all off the scent."

"Ah, well, I wish I could take the credit," Five stated. "I just miscalculated the time dilation projections, and-" He looked to the side before smiling sarcastically at the Handler. "Well, you know. Here I am."

"You realize your efforts are futile," the Handler said. "So why don't you tell me what you really want?" She clasped her hands behind her back.

"I want you to put a stop to it," Five said, mimicking the woman's actions.

"You realize what you're asking for is next to impossible, even for me," the Handler said. "What's meant to be, is meant to be. That's our raison d'etre. You of all people should know that, especially after what you did to your girlfriend over there." She nodded at you.

Five pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed it at the Handler, although she seemed unfazed. "Yeah? Well, how about survival as a raison?"

"I'll just be replaced," the Handler shrugged. "I'm but a... small cog in a machine. This fantasy you've been nurturing about summoning up your family to stop the apocalypse..." She took a few steps forward "Is just that, a fantasy. I must say though-" She took a few more steps. "We're all quite impressed with your initiative, your stick-to-intivenss, really quite... quite something." The Handler held her hands behind her back once more. "Which is why we want to offer you, a new position back at the Commission. In management."

Five chuckled breathlessly. "I'm sorry, what's that now?"

"Come back to work for us again. You know it's where you belong."

"Well, it didn't work out too well the last time," Five stated.

"But you wouldn't be in the correction division any longer," the Handler perswaded. "I'm talking about... the home office. You'd have the best health and pension and an end to this ceaseless time travel." Five blinked, thinking of what it would be like. "You're a distinguished professional in... schoolboy shorts." The Handler walked closer to Five. "We have the technology to reverse the process. I mean you... you can't be happy like this." The Handler lowered Five's gun.

"I'm not looking for happy," Five said his voice hardening.

"We're all looking for happy," the Handler said, stroking Five's cheek gently. "We can make that happen. We can make you... yourself again."

Five looked at Luther and... you. "What about my family?" he questioned.

"What about them?" the Handler asked.

"I want them to survive," Five demanded.

The Handler sighed, looking at Luther, then Klaus and Diego. "All of them?"

"Yes, all of them," Five said. "And Y/N."

"Well," she pulled out her sunglasses and put them on. "I'll see what I can do. As for Y/n... she is meant to die. You know this."

Five frowned but knew she was right. He knew Y/N had to die.

"Do we have a deal?" the Handler said.

"One thing," Five said before walking to Hazel and Cha-Cha's guns. He took out the amo before throwing it and the gun into the field.

He then walked past the Handler and to you. He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face before pressing his lips to yours. He pulled away and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. He quickly wrote something down and placed it into your hand.

The Handler sighed. "Wait," Five said, before approaching the bullet that hung midair in the sky. He grabbed it and positioned it away from Luther. Then he grabbed the Handler's hand and disappeared.

Y/N POV

You let out a scream and ducked as the bullets hit the car.

You watched as the ice cream truck hit Hazel and Cha-Cha's car, tottling it completely.

"Five?" Luther said, making you look up.

"Five?" you said, noticing the fact that Five was gone. "Five!" You looked around, balling your fists. Then you felt something crunch.

You heard people yelling but you ignored it. You leaned on the car, opening your hand to see a folded piece of paper in your hand.

"Y/N! Get in the car!" you heard Luther yell, making you look up before you could read the note. You quickly got in the car, Luther, Klaus, and Diego joining you.

You noticed Klaus give Hazel the middle finger, making you laugh.

You then looked at the note once more. You opened it carefully before reading it to yourself.

Y/N,

I have gone to work with the Commission again. I'm sorry. I love you and I will miss you dearly. And, there is something I haven't told you. The Handler wasn't the one to kill you. I was.

-Five

Find the rest of the chapters here: https://mooskey.tumblr.com/post/662542471939735552/remember-me-five-hargreeves-x-reader

#five hargreeves #five #five x you #five x y/n #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x y/n #tua fanfic #tua deigo #tua klaus #tua vanya #tua luther #tua ben #tua five #tua fandom #tua netflix #luther hargreeves #deigo hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #tua number five #the umbrella academy #tua #fanfic

[bbrandy2002]

Fearless

Chapter 4: See the Lights, See the Party, the Ball Gowns

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow​.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

The girls spent their first morning in Cordonia with their respective sponsors, getting the first glimpses of courtly life and preparing for the Masquerade Ball taking place that evening. As much as they wanted to get out and experience all that this little Mediterranean country had to offer, there was just so much to do and little time to do it. 

That morning, while Alyssa worked diligently on learning the steps of the Cordonian Waltz and etiquette with Rashad, Maxwell finally got Riley out of bed in time for a late breakfast. This included meeting his brother, Bertrand, who was none too thrilled with the former waitress from New York. Riley discovered rather quickly that the duke was nothing like the free-spirited Maxwell; if ever there was a picture display of a killjoy, she was sure his scowling face would be plastered dead in the center.  

The day kind of went by in a dizzying blur, especially for Riley, who spent most of it either being lectured by Bertrand, or raiding the kitchen for stress snacks with Maxwell. And as far as anyone knew, Liam was still unaware that the quirky, raven-haired beauty he’d met two nights ago and never expected to see again was in his country, in his palace, and was about to come face-to-face with him.

If she didn’t die of anxiety first. 

Neither of the girls saw each other until much later that afternoon when they linked up in Riley’s room before heading to the palace's salon for last-minute hair and nail appointments. 

Later on in the boutique, Riley sucked in a deep breath and held in her stomach while Alyssa stood behind her, fighting to zip the back of the angel-themed costume she chose for the Masquerade Ball. 

Actually, "chose" was a loose description in this case. The ensemble was one of the last two dresses in the palace's boutique, and Maxwell insisted Riley wear it instead of the more provocative red devil attire to make herself more appealing to the King and Queen. The Beaumont sponsee didn’t give two shits at that moment about impressing the monarchs; her major concern was how she would fit that size-four dress over her size-six body. 

“What the hell did you eat, Ri? This zipper is not budging an inch," an out-of-breath Alyssa groaned as she attempted to pull the tight fabric closer together.  

Steadying her feet firmly to the ground, a jostled-around Riley answered quietly, in a still manner, so as not to undo what little progress her friend had already made, "You know I'm a stress eater. I've experienced many emotions since we left yesterday, and food therapy helps. And your judgment is making me hungry again, so thank you for making it worse."

"I'm not judging you; I'm simply stating a fact: Your ass won’t fit in this dress."

Riley straightened up a little higher, hoping to thin her lean frame out more. "Well, it's gonna have to," she scoffed. "I can't be the only suitor at this ball without the proper attire."

Alyssa tugged harder in frustration. "You know, it might help if I could remove the price tag from the zipper."

"Perhaps." Riley sideways glanced at the two inattentive boutique cashiers before turning her head slightly over her shoulder to acknowledge her best friend in a hushed tone. "But then I wouldn't be able to return it in the morning. $700 for a damn dress is highway robbery, and I won't be a victim to this place's jacked-up prices." She glared back at the fashionably dressed women running the register and hollered out, "You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Shhhh!" Alyssa's face burned with embarrassment while she smiled sheepishly at the bewildered ladies. "Are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You mean aside from the usual things that are wrong with me? I'm a nervous wreck, Lyss. Liam still doesn't know that I'm here. I'm about to go wine-and-dine with snobby rich people, while my socially awkward-o-meter is on red alert. And Maxwell's brother didn't like me. How am I supposed to impress Liam, the press, this council, and his parents when my own sponsor hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Alyssa replied. "Suck in your stomach a little more ... Rashad told me Duke Beaumont is high-strung and takes all this court business very seriously. If you ask me, give ‘The Brows’ some time. I know he'll love you. And Liam already does!" Alyssa stepped back in delight after tirelessly sliding the last bit of the zipper to the neckline. "Voila! I got it."

Riley stiffly turned toward the full-length mirror -- her insides feeling like they would pop right out of her -- and surveyed the finished product. "Not bad, not bad. A slight muffin top on the sides, and my ass cheeks are packed in tighter than my family around the dessert station at a buffet, but ... I think I can get by with it." Turning to face Alyssa, she lit up with anticipation. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Alyssa plucked the bright red dress off the rack and headed inside one of the many dressing rooms. A moment later, she emerged with a beaming smile on her face and held her arms out to the side to do a show-offish twirl. "So, how do I look?"

"Oh my god, Lyss!" Riley clapped excitedly. "You look so hot in that! That color of red really suits you too. Although, you might want to cover up the girls a little more; I've never seen your boobs look so huge."

"Wha --" Alyssa glanced down at her fully rounded chest, a substantial portion of which was spilling out over the top. She crossed her arms over her breasts in horror. "OH MY GOD! You're right: They're enormous in this thing. I can't go out there like this! They'll be stuffing dollar bills into my cleavage and begging for a lap dance!"

"Well, just ... try to tuck them in," Riley suggested, demonstrating her advice on herself. “You know, the way guys tuck in their junk.”

Alyssa shook her head adamantly, attempting to slide the top of the dress up higher. "I don't think that'll work. It's already extremely tight."

“That’s what he said,” Riley quipped with a snicker, much to the chagrin of her longtime friend, who simply blinked back. “Wow, not even a smile. Come on, Lyss, it’s not that hard.”

Alyssa grinned despite herself, “That’s what she said.”

Riley stepped closer, reaching out to grab a portion of the garment covering Alyssa's bosom, and declared, "Alright, If I can squeeze my fat ass into this dress, you can cram those giant melons into yours. So, get to pushin’, girl.”

-----------

After 10 minutes of stuffing uncooperative breasts into a gown, Alyssa and Riley stepped out of the boutique and made their way to the bottom of the main staircase outside of the ballroom, where Rashad and Maxwell were waiting eagerly for them. 

A grim-faced Rashad approached the pair as they neared. “We were beginning to worry about you two. I hope you didn’t have any trouble.” He reached out and greeted Alyssa with a friendly kiss to the cheek as Riley made her way up to Maxwell, who did the same.

“No troubles,” Alyssa assured him, before staring down at her chest to make sure certain parts were still contained inside her dress. “Just some slight wardrobe issues that I think we’ve taken care of.”

Riley frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her squeezed-in stomach. “Let’s just say we both feel like canned biscuits.”

“And I’m petrified of canned biscuits!” Alyssa shrieked, then spoke in a lower, punier voice in Rashad’s direction. “They make that popping sound that scares the hell out of me.” He nodded sympathetically at her admission, having no clue what canned biscuits were.

Maxwell let out a chuckle. “Either way, you both look awesome! Like two totally righteous peas in a pod and all that jazz.” He peeked over at Riley, who wasn’t appearing too sure of herself, or of anything for that matter, knowing she’d spent most of the day in a subtle panic. While she steadied her breath, he looped his arm through hers and leaned over. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to go in there like the boss you are and knock them all dead. I just know it.”

Riley swallowed thickly, “But Liam --”

“Will be over the moon with excitement to see you again. Do you think I’d go through all the trouble of trying to convince you, and then Alyssa, to come all the way here -- not to mention, facing my brother’s wrath -- if I didn’t believe Liam would want to see you again?” Riley half-shrugged, but Maxwell could tell by the little glimmer of hope he caught in her eyes and the slight curl at the corner of her plush pink lips that she knew it was true. “If he’s not happy about seeing you, I’ll book you on the first flight back to New York, and you can punch me in the gut or something. But I can tell you with certainty: No man goes out with a woman and keeps his friends up most of the night talking about how amazing she was if he doesn’t want to see her again.”

Riley could feel a tinge of pink color her cheeks and looked away for a brief moment, knowing he was right. She was about to see her prince again. Simply knowing how happy Liam was when they parted ways that night made her heart flutter. The blushing suitor peered back at the towering man on her arm and smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Max.” 

As they both stared straight ahead at the set of double doors where Alyssa was making her grand entrance into the ballroom with Rashad, Riley pointed out, “You realize if you had said all that stuff to me this morning and five bloated pounds ago, I wouldn’t have cried to you all day over pints of ice cream, half a sheet cake, and a bag of Mini Snickers?”

Lord Beaumont grinned without looking at her as the orchestral music inside erupted through the newly opened threshold that awaited their crossing. A gleam of anticipation glistened the cobalt hue of his eyes.”That’s our cue. Time to look alive, Twinkle Toes, it’s showtime.”

__________

It felt like a million pairs of eyes bore through Riley when the announcer spoke her name out to the guest in the ballroom. In reality, few paid much attention to the young woman dressed in pure white, from the feathery halo perched above her fancy swept-up hairdo to the tiny heels that sparkled like glittery specks of fairy dust on her feet.  

As Maxwell ushered her proudly through the spectacular crowd adorned in the finest silks and chiffons, faces concealed behind extravagant masks similar to hers, and opulent table spreads of gold and crimson, Riley searched the four corners of the room for one particular set of the bluest eyes she’d ever encountered -- she had Liam’s memorized by heart. However, the only ones she recognized came from her smiling best friend, standing casually beside the Lord of Domvallier at the bar, keeping her word to watch out for her. With a subtle grin from Alyssa to convey she had her back, the whirlwind of fear and chaotic thoughts that overwhelmed Riley quickly dissipated into thin air. 

Baby steps.

While Maxwell and Riley headed to the center of the ballroom to meet up with Bertrand, across the way, Alyssa ordered a cranberry vodka from the bar. She was wearing red and needed a drink that matched perfectly with the fabric in case of accidental spillage. As the bartender poured her glass, she tore her vigilant gaze from Riley when Rashad’s cell rang. Seconds later, he covered his phone lightly with a palm and lowered it away from his ear to speak with her. 

“This is my client in California. Will you be okay for a little bit while I take this out on the balcony?”

Alyssa nodded. “Of course. Take your time. Is there anything I should be doing while you’re gone?”

“Try mingling with the crowd. Get to know the other suitors. The best way to help Riley tonight is to get a feel for the competition. Figure out who you can potentially get on her side and who is going to cause her trouble.”

“With all due respect, this isn’t Survivor.”

Rashad grinned before excusing himself. “We'll see if you still feel that way by the end of the social season.”

What is it with all the Debbie Downers here? He sounds just like -- Before she could finish that thought, a stroke of irony occurred when she caught the denim-clad Drake, standing out like a sore thumb, making his way up to the bar. She quickly spun around on the barstool and hovered over her freshly poured beverage. 

Tapping the bar's woodgrain top, Drake called for, “The usual,” before plopping down on the stool next to her. His woodsy scent filled the air and wafted in her direction; she wondered if he’d even recognize her.

Pressing the rim of the glass to her lips to take the first nervous sip of her drink, she wondered why she even cared if he did.

Alyssa set the vodka cranberry down on a cocktail napkin at the same time Drake reached for his tumbler of whiskey. A brush of their hands caused them both to retreat away before he bowed his head respectfully to her. 

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Drake was quick to apologize. He never knew which stuck up nobles would have an issue with a commoner’s simple touch.

Alyssa lifted a brow and smirked in response. “So you do have manners?”

He’d recognize that wily voice anywhere. Grumbling, Drake responded. “Aww, hell! Pipsqueak? Is that you?”

“Hello, Sunshine.” She dimpled.

Drake shook his head. “I should have known. Of all the damn people in this room, I still managed to find you.”

“I would call that a very lucky day for you then.” Alyssa lifted her drink and tipped back a gulp. “So what’re you doing here? Don’t you have some royal cows or chickens to herd around or something? Who wears denim and jeans to a fancy ball?” 

She would if she could get away with it.

His tight shoulder muscles bounced slightly with disingenuous laughter as his chestnut eyes took in her sultry devilish costume. “I could ask you the same about your own clothes. Suitors are supposed to dress up for these things. Not come as themselves.”

Offended, Alyssa arched back contemptuously. “Are you calling me a devil?”

“If the horns and pitchfork fit.” Drake retorted. He motioned with his glass across the room. “By the way, you see that blazing redhead who just stole your little friend away from Maxwell?” When Alyssa snapped her gaze protectively in that direction, he continued, “That’s Olivia. You might want to check in on … what’s her name again?”

“Riley ...” Her tone was resentful. He knows damn well what her name is. 

“Whatever. Just trust me on this, if the two of you know what’s good for ya -- and I’m betting you don’t -- you’ll stay as far away from Olivia and the rest of these social-climbing fuckers as possible.” His mood suddenly shifted as he drained his drink, then slammed it on the bar top, motioning with his hand to the bartender for another.

Alyssa was quick to notice the tension in his jaw and the immense throb of protruding veins in his forearm as he nursed his drink. “What climbed up your ass and died? Why are you even here if you hate everyone so much? 

He quickly snapped. “I’m here for Liam!”

“Well, I’m here for Riley!” The two of them glared at each other in a tense showdown that neither was willing to back down from. After a beat, Alyssa’s determination weakened somewhat; confrontations made her jittery. 

And with him in particular.

Letting her shoulders slump, Alyssa let out a soft breath as she relaxed. “I’m trying to give her some space … but do I need to go check on Riley?” The question was asked sincerely. 

Drake turned his head back, his vision crossing the vast expanse of the room and landing on a perturbed Riley in conversation with Olivia. He scowled, recognizing the expression impressed on her face all too well. “We’re outsiders, Alyssa. You. Me. Riley. That’s the only thing they’ll ever see. It’s the only way they’ll ever treat us.” He shifted to face Alyssa again. “Take that for what you will. If she were my friend … I would.”

_______

Riley shook her head emphatically. “There’s no way I’m supposed to kiss the king’s shoe. That’s weird, creepy, and-and- unsanitary!” She nodded toward a masked couple standing before the seated king who bowed, curtsied, and then exited to the left. “They didn’t kiss his shoe. I think you’re full of shit.” 

“Riley, Riley, Riley.” The duchess shook her head with an exasperated tone. “Those people are well-established and highly-regarded members of the court … you’re not. And while I admit it’s a rather unorthodox Cordonian royal custom, it’s part of our tradition that the newest members humble themselves before the king in an act of deep respect and reverence. I’m actually astounded Maxwell never bothered to tell you.” She flipped back a thick curly-q strand of hair that hung over her shoulders. “Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

Riley hesitated. “I guess I’ll keep it in mind …?”

“Great!” Olivia wrapped a firm hand around Riley’s wrist and pulled her toward the throne where the king sat. “You’re so lucky that I was here to warn you! Otherwise, you’d have looked utterly ridiculous.”

“Wait! Where are we going? Riley demanded, her feet barely able to keep up with the brisk pace. 

“To present you to King Constantine.”

“But I need to wait for my sponsor!” Riley protested. She struggled to break free, but the redhead’s clawlike grip was surprisingly strong. 

“Every second counts, Riley. These women have all known Liam for years. The early bird gets the Crown.”

“But I --” Panicked, Riley scoured the room for the Beaumonts and found them standing near the hors d'oeuvres table embroiled in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

“What the fuck?” On the opposite side of the ballroom, Alyssa spotted Olivia hauling Riley across the floor. Before Drake had the chance to warn her this wasn’t good, an enraged Alyssa was already sliding down off the barstool, stampeding off in hot pursuit of finding out what this redheaded troll was doing with her best friend. 

And for reasons he couldn’t fully understand, feeling frustrated beyond comprehension, Drake followed right on her heels.

Coming to a screeching halt before the raised dais, Olivia thrust Riley forward, who nearly tripped from the momentum into the bottom step at the sudden stop.

It took every ounce of restraint Riley had not to turn toward the woman who had forcibly dragged her across the room and to stick a pair of size-seven heels straight up her ass. She, however, liked the pretty, sparkly shoes she had on too much to ruin them … and wanted to end the evening outside of a hospital bed. “Asshole,” she muttered almost soundlessly.

“Your Majesty,” Olivia smirked. “I would like to present to you the suitor House Beaumont has chosen. Lady Riley.”

Riley gave her a cursory glare. It was the moment of truth. She plastered on her best smile for the King, who regarded her with a nod. 

Just … just do it. “Your Majesty.” Riley dipped into a low curtsy and held it in place for several seconds before contemplating the validity of Olivia’s outlandish claim and swallowing hard. “Here goes nothing.”

Placing both palms on the plush red carpeting that laid at the feet of the King, she lowered herself slowly until her knees rested on the top step.

“What the hell is she doing?” Alyssa questioned as she desperately weaved around a sea of faces, dodging server trays and tables along the way. “And where the hell is Maxwell?”

“I don’t know ...” Drake answered, practically pushing her even more quickly through the crowd, “ … but you better move faster. There’s no damn telling what Olivia told her to do.”

Riley paused briefly, staring at the simple black shoes that almost resembled a shiny boot. She wanted to be kissing Liam right now, not his father’s old fricking foot. Worst vacation ever.

Lowering her head gradually toward Constantine’s shoes, she scrunched up her face and reluctantly puckered up. 

Out of nowhere, a body with the vigor of a wild stallion in full sprint barrelled into her side, sending Riley hurling across the dais and causing her to land face-down on the marbled floor below.

"What is the meaning of this?" An enraged Constantine bolted up, his ire focused on Alyssa, hunkered down on all fours at his feet, striving to catch her breath.

Maxwell and Bertrand heard the commotion and came rushing to Riley’s side when they realized it was her sprawled out and jerking on the floor.  

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," an apologetic Alyssa said as she reached up for the hand Drake was offering. The King's glare at her was nerve-wracking as he waited for an explanation -- until Drake stepped up in front of her, blocking her view of the incensed monarch. "I can explain."

"I hope you can, young lady." Constantine glowered, baffled as to why Drake Walker was still standing between them … and mirroring every movement she made. When she shifted, he shifted. When she moved her arm, he did the same. Was this some type of game?

“Uh … um.” Alyssa's mind raced with excuses. She couldn't very well tell him the truth and make Riley or herself look bad -- she was still a representative of Duchy Domvallier. There was only one thing she could think of to say as she whipped around Drake and pointed at him. "This man pushed me!"

Drake's body stiffened at her accusation. "The hell you talking about?" 

She covered her eyes with a hand, pretending to sob. "I was on my way up here to pay my respects to you, sir, when this man ..." she paused to take in a fake stuttering breath, "... came out of nowhere and pushed me from behind. I tried to stop myself from running into anyone, but I couldn't. Too much momentum." Alyssa lowered her hand and stared at a wide-eyed Drake. "I’m just a small person, mister. Why would you do that? Why? What did I ever do to hurt you?"

"I never --"

"Drake?" The King eyed him sternly. "Is this true? Did you push this young woman?"

Drake’s defensive stance was no match for Alyssa’s pleading eyes, begging him to save her from this. “Please,” she mouthed.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I … I’m sorry, Sir. Lady Alyssa’s extremely long dress was dragging the floor and I stepped on it. When I lifted my foot off, she ... I don’t know … flung forward. I tried to grab her before she went flying, but she got away, and that must be why she thought I pushed her.” Drake lowered his gaze to Alyssa. “You really shouldn’t shop in the adult section, miss.”

“Is it possible you were mistaken, Lady ... Alyssa?”

She nodded. “Yes, that is surely possible,” she agreed in a rehearsed-sounding tone. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

“Well, then.” Constantine's contented glance drifted to Drake. “It’s good to know you didn’t push an innocent suitor on purpose, Drake. But just know this … I’ll be watching you.” 

“Looking forward to it, sir. Thank you, sir.” Drake quickly bowed his head as Constantine returned to his seat to greet the next guest. He grabbed Alyssa’s elbow and rushed her off to the side of the dais.

-----------

Maxwell knelt beside a disheveled Riley, helping her rise to her feet and dusting her off. 

“Lady Riley,” a scowling Bertrand glared, “what on earth is the meaning of this? The glory of House Beaumont is on the line tonight, and you’ve already made your first blunder. I told you, Maxwell, this was a mistake.”

Slightly dazed, Riley stumbled while massaging a sore wrist. Inclining her head so she could see him under the halo that drooped over her eyes, she retorted, “I was shoved, Berturd. It’s not like I did this on purpose. And thank you for your concern; I’m fine, by the way.”

“Shoved? By whom?” The three of them turned to see Alyssa and Drake scampering off to a corner. “It was Domvallier’s suitor?” Bertrand asked incredulously. “This is preposterous! It’s beneath Lord Rashad’s character to have his suitor and Drake Walker sabotage ours. I will have to go over there and put an end to this travesty at once.” 

“NO!” Riley and Maxwell barked.

"Bertrand. Why don't you let Riley and I handle them while you play damage control with the King? Unless ..." he smirked. " You want me to smooth things over with His Majesty? I have a lot to say about how Twinkle Toes just SAILED through the air at warp speed --"

"Dear God, no, Maxwell! There will be no need for your … input. But, you two, get results from Drake and that suitor. No funny business," he warned.

The two of them nodded in understanding. As soon as Bertrand turned his back and marched away, they both gave a knowing glance to the other before rushing over to Drake and Alyssa, who had just made it to a far corner of the ballroom, 

Alyssa yanked her elbow away from his vice-like grasp. “I believe we’re out of the clear; you can let go of me now.”

“Listen. I have to tell you something, ‘cause you need to know it ... “ Drake swallowed thickly, his rounded eyes focused squarely on the woman who’d just thrown him under the bus to King Constantine. He spoke as if he had something caught in his throat, “You--your-- uh -- ”

“And who made these damn shoes, anyway?” Alyssa complained as she hiked up the lower part of her dress and stepped out of her heels. Her already short stature lowered several inches. “They clearly hate short women and feet. Seriously, who thought walking around like a newborn calf was sexy?”

“Alyssa,” Drake tried again to speak through a strained voice, “You need to listen --”

“Hey!” Riley interrupted as she and Maxwell stepped up to them. “Why’d you push me off that stage thingy? And OH MY GOD, ALYSSA! YOUR --” Maxwell slapped a hand over Riley’s mouth, knowing exactly what her big mouth was getting ready to loudly announce.

Her frantic muffled words continued to blabber through his tightly clasped hand.

Alyssa gave him a confused look. “Maxwell, what are you doing?”

“Just stopping her before she told everyone within earshot ...” he paused fleetingly, lowering his gaze from the muddled expression on her face to her chest. “Your bosoms … well, they have emerged.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” a flustered Drake said as Alyssa let out a gasp and looked down. “You’ve been ... exposed … since --” He was quickly cut off again by her tiny wail as she fixed herself and dashed out of the ballroom, mortified, her arms crossed over her chest.

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

Riley tapped lightly on the women’s restroom door. “Lyss? You okay in there?”

“No!” Her pouty voice rang back. “I’m the laughingstock of this entire court.”

Maxwell chuckled, hollering back. “You don’t have to worry about that, Lady Alyssa. I’ve already got that title covered in spades.”

“You two need to get back to the ball,” Drake said gruffly, referring to the girls. “Liam will be arriving any minute.”

“You’re right. There are probably five people in there who still haven’t gotten an up close shot of my breasts.” Alyssa swung the door open, bitterly hitching up the front of her dress as she stepped out, and glared up at Drake as she walked by. “And you let me walk around like that!”

“I did not!” He flushed a deep, dark red. “I told you, that’s why I was standing in front of you, so no one would see … ugh, fuck it. Just -- let’s go, okay?” 

A remorseful Riley hugged Alyssa. “I’m so sorry my dumb ass was what caused this to happen to you. Thank you for making sure I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

Alyssa squeezed tighter. “It was way better that it happened to me than you. We can definitely have a good laugh over this by the time I’m, like, 150.” When they let go of one another, she smiled at her friend. “Come on, we have a ball to get back to. And you have a prince to dazzle.”

“Oh, you guys go on ahead. I need a minute to straighten up.”

Drake, Alyssa, and Maxwell headed back inside while Riley spent a few minutes in the bathroom wiping away the dust off her dress and getting her hair back in order as best as she could. Plus, she just needed a moment to herself; it was the first time since she woke up that morning that someone wasn’t hovering over her shoulder or trying to impress someone. There also were some major jitters happening knowing the Prince was arriving at any second.

Stepping out a few minutes later, Riley headed back down the hallway, hopeful she still appeared as presentable as when she arrived earlier. 

Dotted along the walls that trailed back to the ballroom were portraits and artwork of kings and queens. Judging by the large periwigs, justaucorps, and stockings over breeches depicted, obviously they were quite old. One particular painting caught her attention enough to halt her steps before she plastered on a naughty grin.

“Ohhhh, what do we have here?” Riley snickered, leaning in closer to get a better glimpse. “I see London, I see France, I see a very hung King without his pants.” She fanned a hand in front of her face and spoke as if she were Scarlett O’Hara herself. “My, my, my, Fabian, I haven’t seen a lot of those, but I do declare, you put all the Yanks I’ve been with to shame. I’d be remiss to not ask if you were generous enough to pass on certain sizable traits, say to … Oh, I don’t know, the current Crown Prince?”

“Frankly, my dear … I don’t think he gave a damn,” a deep voice quipped over her shoulder.

Riley spun around, her body crashing into the portrait and causing it to rattle against the wall and lean heavily. Her face burned red-hot as soon as she heard his voice, even though every ounce of blood in her body seemed to rush to her wobbly feet. Liam reached out, grasping hold of her arms to brace her as she stared back, slack-jawed and weak-kneed, at his half-masked face, smiling warmly. “L-L-Li --”

“My sincerest apologies if I startled you, my lady. Are you okay?”

Her throat was dry, and surely no one in all history had ever been as embarrassed as she was at that moment, but she managed to answer feebly, “I think … I pissed my pants.” They both looked down at the floor simultaneously, relief washing over them that there were no puddles. Riley closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. “Oh, thank God.”

Liam chuckled, his twinkling blue eyes glued to her flustered face. “You’re just as beautiful as you were that night in New York, Riley Brooks.”

“Wait … you know that it’s me? Are you surprised? Are you upset? Do you think I’m some creepy stalker now? I swear I’ve never even touched a weapon.”

“Really? What happened to your bag of Chinese throwing stars?” Liam teased lightheartedly. Riley tilted her head in confusion. “You remember, the ones you were going to throw at me in the alley outside of your bar --”

“Oh. Yes. Right,” she laughed awkwardly as the memory came to her. “Yeah, I may have embellished the truth there a bit. Twenty-pound hams seem to be more my weapon of choice.” Riley hung her head. Why the hell did I just tell him that? When Bastien cleared his throat and gave Liam a pointed look, Riley knew their time was short. “I know you have to go, but I just need to know something: How did you know I was here? Maxwell tried to get in touch with you and never heard back. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me showing up here.”

“I’ve been quite busy since leaving New York with preparations for the social season and the Masquerade kicking off this evening. But it was Drake who came pounding on my door this morning to fill me in. You can imagine my surprise when he told me that you were here, and, I quote, ‘brought her small aggressive friend with her as guard dog.’”

Riley smirked with a shrug. “Can ya blame a girl? I came to win. Besides, I really like you, Liam.”

He smiled. “I really like you too, Riley. But this isn’t New York. As much as I wish we could just pick up where we left off two nights ago, this entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you and ... Lady Alyssa.” Liam paused to chuckle and shake his head in amusement. “You actually got your friend to pose as a fake suitor and somehow convinced an honorable and highly dignified member of the court to sponsor her?”

“Yeaaaah, I still don’t know how the hell I did that. I should get extra points for my manipulation skills”

Liam laughed. "I believe you mean, negotiation skills."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, those too."

Already well past the time to make his grand entrance, Bastien approached Liam to give the final warning. Liam acknowledged him and turned back to Riley. “I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me. But until then …” He pressed her willing body against the wall, tracing the back of his forefinger along her velvety cheek. “ … just know how very, very, happy I am to have you here, Riley.” His lips were fire and ice when he leaned down to meet her equally fevered ones in a lingering kiss. And she melted right into him.

With that, Liam was whisked away by the head guard and made his way into the ballroom. As a panting Riley brushed her fingertips over the tingling in her bottom lip, she felt so many things all at once: relief that he was happy she was there and already knew everything regarding Alyssa, and that same exhilarating bliss that swept her off her feet two days ago when they shared their time together. But he was abundantly clear, this wasn’t New York anymore, and he still had a duty and obligation to Cordonia regardless of his apparent feelings for her. 

Riley let a puff of air and pushed her backside off the wall to return inside. Just as she did this, the crooked frame bearing the likeness of the late King Fabian she admired earlier fell from its hook and crashed to the floor, causing the ancient glass to shatter beside her. With her head shrunken into her shoulders, Riley slowly peeked out one eye and saw the damage. Glancing down one end of the hall to the other to see if anyone saw her, she glanced down at the shards and still fully intact artwork. Normally she would have hightailed it out of there, but she couldn’t help herself from giving her destruction parting words. 

“I guess you’re not … hung anymore.”

Then she bolted the hell out of there.

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

Fearless tags: @dcbbw​​ @ao719​​  @texaskitten30​​ @janezillow​ @mskaneko​  @callmeellabella​ @queenjilian​ @sirbeepsalot​  @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @bebepac​ @kingliam2019​  @amandablink​  @choiceskatie​ @annekebbphotography​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @alyssalauren​ @mom2000aggie​  @princessleac1​ @kimmiedoo5​ @graceful-leah​ @thegreentwin​ @gkittylove99​  @pink-diamond13​ @tinkie1973​ @queenrileyrose​ @zaffrenotes​ @no-one-u-know​ @sammie0220​ @shanzay44​ @yourmajesty09​  @bitchloveskcbaseball​ @kat-tia801​ @openheart12​ @drakeandkatherine​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @masterofbluff​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @msjr0119​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @sanchita012 @gabesmommie1130​ @charlotteg234​ @jessiembruno​ @debramcg1106​ @neotericthemis​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @sweetest-marbear​ @darley1101​ @choicesstan650​ @shewillreadyou​ @emkay512​ @txemrn​ @lucy-268​ @axwalker​ @busywoman​

#fearless #drake x mc #liam x mc #drake walker #king liam #prince liam #the royal romance #trr #choices fanfiction #liam x riley #drake x alyssa

[thepartyresponsible]

this soundtrack fill is for kittenlzlz, who i cannot tag because it’s all sabotage all the time over here. also, i'm sorry, i didn’t realize you’d changed your prompt until after i wrote this one, so this is for the first thing you sent in.

anyway, here’s some dystopian sci-fi angst for sam and bucky with a hopeful ending. the song for this one is “achilles come down” by gang of youth.

                                                         —

When he was young, Sam spent thirty-seven weeks in New Mexico, learning how to keep people alive until evac. That others may live was a motto they preferred to operationalize rather than idealize, and, without the EMT training, pararescue tended to turn into high-risk body retrieval. So he spent the better part of a year learning how to keep a body breathing, and he learned, also, how to recognize when any effort was likely to be wasted.

Which is how he knows that what he’s looking at isn’t fully human. Because a human would already be dead.

It’s the blood that tells him, more than anything else. The Chitauri bleed a thick, dark blue substance that goes black if their cybernetics are leaking. And there’s plenty of blue and black puddled on the asphalt, but that red is a hemoglobin gift, and that means it’s all human.

“Shit, man,” Sam says, crouching next to the only human at this massacre. “You could keep a blood bank in business all by yourself.”

The man lifts his head and blinks at him, slow and a little dazed. Not dazed enough, though. He can almost focus on Sam’s face. “Not anymore,” he says, after a beat.

More blood bubbles up at the corners of his mouth. Sam can see it between his teeth.

“Yeah,” Sam says. And he laughs, because he might as well. Because he came out here with a team of ten to clean out the aliens, and it looks like one guy did their work for them. “Guess not.”

He’s a pathetic sight, really. Ragged body armor, hair clumped together, skin sticky with blood and ichor. He’s belly down on the cracked parking lot, and there’s a smear of blood behind him, showing exactly how far he’s managed to drag himself.

Sam’s not excited about what he’s going to see, when he rolls this guy over on his back.

“You gonna fight me if I help you?” he asks.

Most of them, these Enhanced, the surviving Super Soldiers, they can’t help it. Sam’s had to put a few down himself, although not for a while now. It’s been almost a year since he had to kill anything with a human face.

The man sighs. He rests his forehead against the asphalt, closes his eyes. His fingers flex and then go still. “I don’t know,” he says.

That others may live, Sam thinks. But the problem has always been that lives are balanced on both sides of the scales, and, sometimes, saving one means sacrificing another.

This man killed fifteen Chitauri, and he did it alone. There are kids back at the base. Vulnerable people.

The safest choice would be to leave him here. Let him save himself, if he can. But Sam’s never really been the safe choice type.

“Okay,” he says, hands curling around his shoulders, carefully rolling the man over on his back, “let’s see the damage.”

It’s enough to kill a human. But that’s not really what he’s dealing with.

                                                           —    

The Super Soldiers were a desperation play. Sam was supposed to be one of them. The best of Earth’s fighters, dosed with serum, patched up with cybernetics based on Chitauri tech, sent out to face the enemies that had invaded the planet.

Sam’s still not sure exactly how it happened, what level of their defenses failed. He only knows failure by its consequences.

The neural implants were hacked. The soldiers turned against their people. Sam, who’d been four days out from his own procedure, was shifted to a team tasked with hunting them down and eliminating them.

These days, there aren’t many left. There’s not much of anyone left. The Chitauri fundamentally misunderstood their target. Sam could’ve warned them. The species of mutually assured destruction was never going to die quiet.

He thinks about that while the Soldier sleeps, chained to a bed in a locked basement in an abandoned building two miles from the base. Sam keeps watch. He has a radio in case anything goes wrong, but he doesn’t intend to use it for anything other than warning them what’s coming.

“I could’ve been you,” Sam tells him. And then, smiling at nothing, shaking his head, “Hell, you could’ve been me.”

He wonders where he’s from. He wonders what his name is.

He wonders, when he can’t help it, what he did. If he ever killed anyone Sam used to know.

                                                           —    

The Soldier sleeps for forty hours and then sits straight up in bed, rips the chains off his wrists like they’re pipe cleaners, and then turns to face Sam. “What the hell,” he says.

“Oh, well,” Sam says, too startled to be afraid. “Didn’t want anyone stealing you.”

The Soldiers makes a face at him, an incredulous sneer that twists up his mouth and pulls his dark eyebrows together, and he looks so human, so perfectly skeptical, that Sam starts laughing.

“Well,” he says, with a shrug, “you killed fifteen aliens with a tire iron. You’re a treasure.”

“And I want it back.” he says, immediately. “Where’s my tire iron?”

“Confiscated,” Sam says.

He glares, and Sam‘s probably meant to be intimidated, but he knows – they both know – that, if this guy wanted to scare Sam, he could just start breaking bones. Or walls. “I want it back when I leave.”

“Leave,” Sam repeats. He kicks back in his chair, balances on the back legs as he swings his feet up onto the Soldier’s bed. “Why’re you leaving?”

The Soldier stares at Sam’s booted feet near his knees. “Usually it’s the fact that I’m a timebomb that chases me off,” he says, “but it looks like your manners are the real horrorshow around here.”

Sam grins at him. He’s merciless about it, uses the most charming smile in his arsenal. He expects the guy to soften a bit, but he’s not expecting the doubletake he gets, the there-and-away bounce of his stare, like Sam’s suddenly something he wants to look at but doesn’t want to get caught looking at.

Huh, he thinks.

“When’s the last time you hurt someone?” Sam asks.

The Soldier’s face crumples up and then flattens out. “What is this? Some kinda trial? An interrogation?”

“If this were an interrogation, I wouldn’t’ve given you the soft pillows,” Sam tells him.

The Soldier doesn’t look like he buys it. But, after a moment, he tips his head to the side. “Probably wouldn’t want to get blood on these white sheets,” he acknowledges.

“Christ,” Sam says, because that more or less seems to be the only thing he could possibly say to something like that.

The Soldier shrugs. He brushes his hair away from his face, blinks, and gives Sam a skeptical sideways stare. “Did you wash my hair?”

“With a firehose,” Sam confirms. “Damn near shaved the whole thing off. You were a mess, man.”

He shrugs. “It’s messy work.”

And, sure, it is. Sam knows. His base is the first resettlement outpost in this region. They’ve been clearing Chitauri out of the area for months.

But he still takes a damn shower whenever possible.

“Who were you?” Sam asks. “Before the program?”

The Soldier looks away. Looks at nothing. After a long pause, he recites, careful and rote, “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. 107th.”

“Okay,” Sam says. “James. When’s the last time you hurt a human being?”

He worries at his lower lip, teeth pressing into the skin. He’s quiet for a very long time. “Thirteen months, ten days,” he says, finally.

Sam considers the timeline. “You think it’s over?”

“I think the implant’s in my fucking brain,” he says. “It’ll be over at brain death.”

“It’s just a chip,” Sam says. “It’s not sentient. Someone’s gotta send the message, right?”

The Soldier’s jaw works. “Even if the aliens stay out, there’s gonna be plenty of people who want to use someone like me, as soon as they rebuild enough to manage.”

It’s a hell of thing, and it could’ve been Sam.

He nudges the Soldier’s knee with his boot, and the Soldier stares at the point of contact. He doesn’t look angry anymore. If Sam had to use a word to describe the expression on the Soldier’s face, he thinks he’d use something bittersweet and barbed, something like lonely or longing.

“Gonna be a long damn time before anyone’s rebuilt,” he says.

“Aliens could have reinforcements here at any time,” the Soldier says.

“Maybe,” Sam says, although he thinks they might’ve learned some kind of lesson. At the very least, they’ve probably learned that it’s just not worth the effort.

“Look,” Sam says. “I think you should come back to the base.”

“No,” he says. Immediate and definite, louder then he’s been so far.

Sam expected it. Maybe part of him hoped for it. “Okay,” he says. “Then we’ll stay here. And, when you’re better, I want you to take a radio. And I want you to check in with us. All right? Every day.”

The Soldier stares at him. “Why the hell would you want that?”

Sam smiles, studies the hollows of the Soldier’s face, the scars, the freckles he must’ve earned when he was young, used to play too long in the sun. He has, Sam thinks, beautiful eyes. “There’s not a lot of us left,” he says.

“‘Us,’” the Soldier repeats, scoffing audibly.

“Us,” Sam repeats. He nudges the Soldier’s knee again, and the Soldier cuts his eyes away, glares at the wall. But, a moment later, he shifts, leans his knee into Sam.

                                                         —      

His name is Bucky Barnes. He’s fussy as hell, stubborn beyond belief, helpful every chance he can get, and fond of cats and songbirds. He doesn’t cheat at cards, and he doesn’t accuse Sam of it either, even when Sam beats him damn near every hand.

He’s a good man. Even now.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Sam says. Because it’s been two weeks, and Bucky’s decided he’s well enough to go.

Bucky ducks his head. “Shut up,” he says.

Sam wonders if he was always this head shy about affection.

“C’mere,” he says. “I’ll give you a goodbye kiss.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says, practically scuttling away, head still ducked. When he raises it, he’s grinning one of his ghost grins, the ones that almost show who he used to be, like a faint echo of a louder, happier man.

“Okay,” Sam says. “But if I don’t get a goodbye kiss, I’m definitely not gonna talk dirty to you on that radio. You gotta put in the work, Bucky.”

“I hate you,” Bucky tells him, and his crush couldn’t be more obvious. Sam would be embarrassed for him, if he weren’t busy being charmed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says. “Check in every day, or I’m gonna track you down.”

“Hm,” Bucky says. He adjusts his pack on his shoulders. He’s got that tire iron, an alarming number of knives, and two guns. He’s setting off to kill more aliens. He’s going alone. “That supposed to be a threat?”

He was a Barnes in the Army and Sam was a Wilson in the Air Force, and so Bucky is a Super Soldier and Sam is not. It’s unpredictable, sometimes, the way mercy falls.

“Be careful out there,” Sam says, and he knocks his elbow against Bucky’s.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. He rolls his eyes and then catches Sam watching, and he blinks, falters. “Yeah,” he says, again. Softer, steadier. A promise, not a joke.

Sam considers him, lets the moment hang. Waits. Sometimes, all Bucky needs is the space and time to make up his own mind.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Bucky says.

“There it is,” Sam says, grinning, almost crowing in triumphant. “There--”

“Oh, Jesus,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes again, getting theatrical about it. “I already regret saying it.”

“Can’t take it back,” Sam taunts, grinning wide and smug.

“I’m going,” Bucky says, and he starts off, doesn’t look back.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam calls, when Bucky’s just about to break through the treeline, disappear into the woods. “I hate to see you go, but I love----”

“Fuck off, Sam!” Bucky says, but he’s laughing, and Sam can still hear it – surprised and happy, fully human – even after Bucky disappears.

#writing #soundtrack fills

[fruitcoops]

for the jules stay with coops, would you be able to do something where jules kinda just messes around on the ice with a stick n puck n the team just kinda watch in adoration? 🤧

This is the final installment of Adventures in Babysitting! Thank you to everyone who stayed interested in this idea, which is the longest series I’ve ever written for SW fanfic (about 15k words total! Wow!). This is my favorite part so far, I think. Hope you enjoy!

Intro 1 2 3 4

Credit for Sweater Weather/ Jules goes to @lumosinlove!

“Can I watch again today?” Jules begged, tugging on the strap of Remus’ duffel bag as they walked to the car. “Please? Please please please please—”

“Yes, you can watch,” Remus groaned, hefting their gear into the trunk. It seemed extra heavy today. “Though keep asking like that and I’m going to say no.”

“The plane doesn’t leave until six thirty, so we’ll be able to hang out with the guys after practice, right?”

“Well, yeah, but we should be at the airport by five just in case,” Remus said. “And it’s an open practice, so the media will want to ask some questions afterward. You can probably hang out with them between interviews, though.”

Jules bit his lip. “Oh. Okay.”

“We’ll figure something out, don’t worry.” He watched Jules buckle in through the rearview mirror while Sirius turned the car on. Most of the snow had melted the previous day, leaving a clear and crisp morning that Remus could feel through the windows as they drove to the rink; he felt a little bad for everyone who wouldn’t be moving around to keep warm for the next few hours.

Moody wasn’t by the door when they arrived, nor was he in the PT room. Remus checked the clock quickly and frowned—they didn’t have a lot of time to spare before they needed to get ready to go. “Coach!” Sirius called, waving down the hallway.

Arthur looked up at them and smiled. “There you are! Got your skates, Lupin?”

Remus blinked. “Uh, yeah?”

“Not you. Little Loops, did you bring your skates?”

Jules and Remus turned to Sirius at the same time and he hid a smile behind his hand. “Got ‘em right here, Coach,” he said without looking at them, holding his bag up.

“What?” Jules whispered and turned to Remus, who shrugged. “What’s he talking about?”

“You’re number…24?” Arthur squinted at his clipboard and walked closer to them. Jules nodded silently. “Alright, I think we can figure something out. You play center, right?”

Jules squeaked out a ‘yes’; Remus could feel him trembling with excitement. “I get to play?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow and bent slightly to his level. “Your brother never stops talking about how you’re the best center Wisconsin has ever seen. I wanna know if it’s true.”

“Sirius, what did you do?” Remus murmured as Jules struggled to take a deep breath.

“I may have possibly told Coach it was his last day here. Perhaps,” Sirius whispered back.

Remus shook his head. “You are the most incredible person on the planet and I’m going to kiss the daylights out of you as soon as humanly possible.”

“Love you, too.”

“Re.” Jules yanked on his arm as he jumped up and down, ramping up with every passing second. “Re, I get to skate with the team! I get to skate! With the team!”

“Looks like it,” Remus laughed. “Come on, practice starts in twenty.”

Not only had Sirius packed Jules’ skates, but somehow he had snuck all his gear into their duffels without either of them noticing; all the guys brightened when they walked into the locker room and Kasey waved to him from his stall. “Hey, Little L—”

“I get to skate!” Jules blurted as he gripped Remus’ hand hard enough to hurt.

James shared a look with Sirius—so you were in on it, too, Remus thought as he led Jules to his stall. “That’s pretty exciting,” he said with a low whistle. “How’d you swing that?”

“Coach Weasley wants to see me play.” If Jules made it through the next three hours without fainting from happiness, Remus would be shocked.

“You must be pretty good, then.” Leo grinned as he buckled into his pads. “Think you can score a goal on me?”

Jules hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“That’s the spirit,” Finn laughed, ruffling Jules’ hair. “You got a jersey yet?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm. What’s your number?”

“24.”

“Yo, Ringer, you got an extra?” Evander Bell dug around for a moment before tossing him a clean jersey. Finn grabbed some stick tape out of his bag and tore two pieces off; when he shook it back out, a decent ‘24’ had replaced the previous ‘21’. “There you go. You might have to tuck it in a bit.”

Jules threw his arms around Finn’s waist and squeezed him tight, mumbling ‘thank you’ over and over again. Finn rubbed his back and looked up at Remus with pleading eyes—can I keep him? he mouthed, pouting when Remus shook his head. Logan and Leo ‘aww’ed in the background.

“Okay, bud, let’s get your pads on so you can enjoy your last day here.” He put a slight emphasis on the final three words and the rest of the team perked up, trading glances between their stalls as Jules hurried to change into his gear.

Thankfully, he already knew what to do, and within ten minutes all three of them were on the ice. Several fans pointed to Jules and waved; he seemed surprised by the attention and shyly smiled back. Coach’s whistle snapped them all to attention and Remus laid a hand on Jules’ helmet to keep him close, just in case. “Cap, you know our drills for today. We start our scrimmage at 12:30 and you get twenty minutes for a lunch break.”

“Yes, Coach,” they chorused. Jules’ answer was a little delayed and Remus caught several half-hidden smiles beneath visors.

“Over here, 24,” Logan said, guiding Jules to the starting line with his stick on his back. “You wanna be on my team?”

“I want dibs!” Talker called as he skated past. “Jules, who’s your favorite? Me, or Shortie Pants over there?”

“Uhhhh…” Jules looked quickly to Remus. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“Sucks to be you guys, but he’s on my team.” Sirius held his hand out for a fist bump that Jules happily obliged. “Right, buddy?”

“Totally.”

“Hell yeah.”

The drills were far easier than usual, even for an open practice, which gave everyone a chance to show off. They went through the motions, adding little flourishes here and there that the slowly-gathering crowd ate up; even Jules started having fun with it, tapping pucks back and forth with Pots between rounds and shooting goal after goal toward Kasey and Leo. He shone with joy.

When the lunch whistle blew, Remus tapped the back of his helmet lightly. “Remember that trick I did to knock Harzy over?” he asked under his breath. Jules grinned. “Want me to show you how to do it?”

“Duh.”

“Alright, c’mere.” Remus skated over to the far end of the rink, keeping an eye out until Finn was safely out of sight. “Plant your leg like this, yeah?”

Jules frowned, but did as he was told. “I thought you went right.”

“I did. You have to fake him out with the left. He falls for it every time.”

“Really?”

“Dollars to donuts. Give it a shot.” Jules wobbled a little. “Keep your balance steady…there you go!”

“Cool!” he whispered, looking up with a bright smile. Remus leaned down so they could knock their helmets together. “Cool.”

“Okay, time for lunch. You can try it out in the scrimmage.”

Jules practiced the motions all the way back to the bench, muttering instructions under his breath as Remus kept him from knocking anyone over on accident. He scarfed down a sandwich and downed a few gulps of Gatorade, which Sirius confiscated in case he drank it too fast and made himself sick.

“We’ve got a game to win, buddy,” he said. “Take it slow.”

“Scrimmage list is up!” Coach called from the doorway, tacking a sheet of paper to the wall. Everyone immediately crowded it; Remus shouldered his way through Kasey and Logan to get a good look.

He laughed out loud when he saw it. “Jules, you better square up!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Am I playing against you?”

“Yep. You’re up against Sirius for the face-off.”

Jules’ eyes got huge in his head. “No.”

“See for yourself, buddy.”

“Does that mean we’re on the same team for once?” Sirius murmured as he leaned against the side of Remus’ stall.

“Looks like it.” He tilted his chin up for a quick kiss and Sirius tugged the edge of his shoulder pad lightly.

“Love seeing you in these.” He tapped the wooden shelf above them and grinned before straightening. “Alright, boys, let’s go!”

It almost felt like family skate again, except for the overarching vibe of genuine competitive spirit that spread through the team. Jules and Sirius skated to the center and braced for the drop; Jules dug his blades in, and not for the first time Remus was struck by how much they looked alike.

Sirius tapped the front of his skate, but Jules didn’t flinch from his laser-focus on Dumo. “He’s got his head in the game, Cap,” Dumo said with a grin. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The puck dropped. In a flash of movement, both lunged for it; Sirius won, but Jules was hot on his heels as he skated toward the opposite goal, his face lined with pure determination. “Twelve!” Remus called, tapping his stick against the ice.

Sirius passed it, but Jules didn’t falter from his tail, moving to shadow his every moment. Remus passed James easily, but Talker stole the puck and turned it around for a quick move toward Leo, who dropped into a lunge and blocked his shot. The pace picked up after that and Remus heard the telltale click of press cameras going off along with the whoops of fans who had come to watch.

And then Jules started tailing him, the little shit. Remus did a lazy loop around the outside, then darted in to shake him—Jules reappeared moments later, a bit out of breath but otherwise fine. Remus took the puck out from underneath Logan and raced for the goal as a beautiful line opened up for him, but he heard the familiar shush-hush of Jules’ skates and braked hard.

He should have known it wouldn’t work. Jules dodged sideways at the last second, just barely missing the puck with his stick, then spun back around and chased Remus in a sharp curve through the defense. He heard several people start laughing as he lowered his center of gravity and took a hard turn; the chill of the ice burned his cheeks, but Jules didn’t leave him alone.

“Come on, Little Loops,” he taunted, grinning over his shoulder. “Come and get it!”

Jules grumbled something under his breath and pushed off harder, skating right at Remus with single-minded intensity. He saw his left foot lift and internally shook his head.

With a couple quick taps, he was behind him again. “You can’t use my own tricks against me!”

“I can try!” Jules shouted back as they flew up the ice once more. Kasey caught his shot. “Nice one, Loops.”

“Better luck next time, eh?” Remus knocked on his helmet as he skated past, still panting. Arthur was laughing so hard he had to lean against the glass while Moody patted him on the back and winked at Remus.

“Eight more years,” Moody called with a grin. “Then we’ll have two Lupins out here.”

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Remus laughed.

They stayed on the ice for a while after the scrimmage ended, losing 2-1 to Sirius’ team. Jules shadowed anyone he came within five feet of and was harder to shake off than a piece of duct tape—Remus had never been prouder.

“Harzy! Harzy, I gotta show you something!” Jules waved to Finn, who looked over in amusement from Leo’s goal. “Skate toward me like we’re in a game.”

“Sure thing, bud.”

Jules kept his eyes on Finn’s feet as they grew closer, mouthing something under his breath. No, Remus thought. Is he going to…?

He did. In one perfect motion, he picked up his left skate and pushed hard in the other direction, zipping beneath Finn’s arm and sending him in the other direction. “No!” Finn shouted immediately as Jules burst into maniacal giggles. “Absolutely not! Remus Lupin, get your ass over here!”

“That was perfect!” Remus held his hands out for a double high-five and Jules jumped to reach his palms. “Excellent form.”

Shaved ice coated them both as Finn snowed them, still scowling. “I can’t believe you!”

“Have you tried saying ‘no’ to the puppy eyes?” Remus asked, turning Jules by the shoulders and sticking his own lower lip out.

Finn scoffed, but he could hardly hide his smile. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Indeed.” He squeezed Jules’ arms briefly. “It’s about time to head out, J. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone while I check in with Marlene?”

The unbridled excitement on Jules’ face dimmed a bit. “Do I have to go?”

“You’ve got school in a couple days.”

“I could stay until it starts again.”

“Mom and Dad miss you a lot.”

“Remus!” Marlene flagged him down from the boards and he skated over with Jules in tow, pulling his helmet off and swiping sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“What’s up?”

Before she could speak, a skinny man with large glasses pushed to the front of the group; Remus disliked him instantly. “Mr. Lupin, can you tell us—”

“Excuse you, I think she was trying to talk,” he interrupted, giving the man a stony look. “Hey, Marley, how’re you doing?”

“I’m doing fine. This is Craig Stearns, from the Hockey Daily…magazine.” Her smile was slightly forced. Tabloid. “He has a couple questions for you.”

“Hi, Craig.”

“When were you going to tell the media about your secret child?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “My what?”

Craig’s eyes flickered down to Jules, whose grip tightened on the hem of Remus’ jersey. “Your son.”

“You mean my little brother?”

“You’ve been seen with him an awful lot this week—”

“Because he’s my little brother.”

“—and he appears to be living in your house—”

“Because he’s my little brother.”

“—and several photos show you walking hand-in-hand—”

“Do you have siblings?” Remus cut in. “I’m going to assume you don’t. My parents visited for the holidays, during which time there was a death in the family and Jules stayed with Sirius and I for the week. He was living in our house because I’m not about to put my ten-year-old brother in a hotel, and I was holding his hand so that he didn’t run into the street. Are we done here?”

Craig paused. “Can we get a picture—”

“No.”

Jules tapped his elbow and Remus bent down. “Can we go home?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah, buddy, we can go home.” Remus gave him a gentle nudge toward the boards. “Go find Sirius, okay?”

“Okay.”

Remus watched him skate across the ice until Leo caught him and swung him into the air before turning back to Craig with the coldest glare he could muster. “You can say whatever the hell you want about me, but keep my little brother out of your fucking gossip column. He’s ten. I better not see his face on some tabloid, got it?”

“Crystal clear,” Craig said with a harsh gulp.

“Good.” Remus looked over to Marlene and smiled, giving her a fist bump. “See you tomorrow, Marley. Say hi to D for me.”

“Will do.”

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

After endless hugs and a standing offer to play from Coach, they finally made it to the car just before four pm. They practically had to crowbar Jules and Moody apart—Remus was half-expecting the grouchy old man to run out after their car waving adoption papers, and letting Kuny figure out Jules was ticklish may have been the worst mistake of Remus’ life.

It was cute, though, seeing the puppylike love on his teammates’ faces whenever Jules entered the room. Jules clearly had a good time; he passed out cold in the backseat within two minutes of leaving the parking lot, still damp from his shower.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to give him back yet?” Remus asked.

“I was just about to say that,” Sirius laughed, glancing into the rearview mirror. “We could tell your parents the flight was cancelled.”

“They miss him.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sure they do.”

“I still don’t want to put him on a plane alone.”

“He’ll be safe.”

“One of us could fly with him…?” Remus shook his head. “Never mind, he’d think we were treating him like a kid. Ugh. I already miss him.”

“We’ve still got an hour or so to pack.” They turned into the driveway and Sirius parked, but neither of them moved to get out. “This was really, really fun. I’m glad we did it.”

“Me, too.” Remus sighed and twisted around to shake Jules’ knee. “Jules, we’re home. You can sleep on the plane, okay?”

Jules took a deep breath and blinked awake, scrunching his nose up. “I don’t wanna pack.”

“I’m not doing it for you, so you better get a wiggle on unless you want to go home in just your underwear.” Jules was out of the car in a flash and both of them dissolved into laughter. “Oh, fuck, I didn’t think that would work.”

“Come on, he’s about to break the door down.” Sirius snorted and got their bags out of the trunk, then tossed Jules his keys. “It’s the one in the middle, buddy.”

“The blue one?”

“No.”

“The yellow one?”

“Are either of those in the middle?”

“…is it the silver one?”

“There you go.”

Jules got it open after a moment of maneuvering and they tumbled inside in a heap of hockey gear, locking the door against the cold wind that was starting to blow. Packing wasn’t difficult—Remus had put Jules’ laundry into the dryer the previous night and threw it into his backpack as Jules collected his books and leftover socks.

They were in the car by five; Remus was a little nervous about getting to the airport on time, but traffic was light and they arrived with more than an hour to spare. Check-in was easy, they made it through security without any issues, and before he knew it, they were standing in front of the gate.

“You have everything, right?” he asked for the thousandth time as Jules rocked on the balls of his feet. “Books, clothes, everything you brought?”

“I’m fine, Re,” he said.

“You’re not hungry?”

“I had a sandwich before we left, remember?”

“It’s a four-hour flight.”

“I’ll be okay.” Jules looked up at him and smiled. “I’m ten, remember?”

I know, that’s why I’m worried. “Boarding for first-class passengers and unaccompanied minors,” a smooth voice called over the intercom. Remus’ heart leapt and he saw Sirius stiffen slightly.

“That’s you, bud,” he said around the lump in his throat, crouching to give him a proper hug. He buried his face in the side of Jules’ neck and gave him a tight squeeze. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” Jules mumbled. Remus let go after a moment and Jules moved to Sirius. “I’ll miss you.”

“Oh, buddy.” Sirius kissed the top of his head. “I’ll miss you, too.”

“Say hi to mom and dad for me, yeah?” Remus added as Jules walked over to a stewardess in a blue dress.

“I love you!” he called again. Just before they reached the gate, he stopped in his tracks. “Wait!”

“What?” Remus’ stomach dropped to his feet as Jules shrugged his backpack off and ran back to them, flinging himself into Sirius’ arms.

“I didn’t think of a nickname for you!”

“That’s okay,” Sirius assured him. “I don’t need one.”

“Nicknames are for people we care about, and I care about you,” Jules insisted. He narrowed his eyes in thought before breaking into a wide grin. “Siri.”

“Like the phone app?”

“Exactly. Might need some workshopping, though.”

“Go catch your plane,” Sirius laughed, setting him down after a final hug. Jules ran back to the stewardess, who gave them a quick smile while she helped him get his backpack on again. They stayed in their spot, hand-in-hand, until the plane was nothing but a speck among the clouds and their feet started to ache.

“They’ll come visit soon, right?” Remus leaned his head against Sirius’ shoulder as they headed for the exit.

“They will.”

“How much do you want to bet Jules left at least three things behind?”

“He probably left half his clothes under the bed, but there are so many other things we’re going to be doing tonight that don’t include tracking down a kid’s lost sock.”

“Oh, really?” Remus raised an eyebrow at him and kissed his knuckles. “I like the way you think.”

“We already earned our Oreos, mon loup. I think we deserve a reward for surviving three weeks of constant family time.”

[babbushka]

Good, Good, Good, Better

Medieval King!Kylo Ren x Reader 

3.1k ; Content warnings: Mention and description of food, NSFW (Aphrodisiacs, mutual masturbation, hand-feeding, bathtub sex, rough sex, PIV, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk) 

Available on AO3!

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

He is not but three steps through the grand wooden doors which lead to the bed chambers, when he is met with your body colliding against his.

Without thinking, Kylo winds his arms around you to catch you as you jump into his embrace, an act on instinct born from having loved you for so long. Your laughter is bright as he spins you around, as your arms lock themselves around his neck.

“Kylo! Darling, you’ve returned just in time.” Your eyes are wide and filled with sparkling mirth, something far more than just the reflection of the golden candlelight. He holds you round your middle so that your feet do not touch the floor, and you cross your ankles behind you as you whisper low in his ear, “I’ve planned a very special meal for us this evening.”

“I’m ravenous.” He smirks at you, settling you down gently and pushing on your shoulders. You immediately go to your knees in the way he had hoped you would, and fuck do you look so good on your knees like that. “Come rest your ear against my stomach, see how it rumbles.”

You bite your lip, and from your spot on the floor you ruck up his tunic enough to expose his abs. A thick thatch of coarse black hair trails down from his naval, and you do not restrain yourself from the desire to lick the hard muscle which burns so hotly under your touch.

Laughing the slightest bit at your theatrics, Kylo pets down your hair and presses your ear to his abs, when at just the right moment, there is a rumble through him. Ravenous, indeed.

“How loud!” You grin up at him, so pleased that he has returned home to you in as good condition that he has. He is filthy, and hungry, but there are no wounds to be seen, and for this you are grateful. 

So grateful that you cannot help but be more playful than usual, so you smile as your cheek squishes against his abs, “Oh my King, this is a dire case, I must see at once that you are…satisfied.”

You look at one another, and he gives you a quirk of his brow, a suggestive quirk, as if to say, but you’re on your knees…

You don’t take the bait, instead getting up with a wide smile and taking his hand. He expects you to pull him through the castle and to the great hall, so when you head the opposite direction, head towards the bathing room he frowns concerningly.

“Blossom, this is…” He trails off though, when he sees the spread in front of him.

There is a large tub that has been brought to the center of the room, sitting over the fire pit which has gently been smoldering away, not much more than hot coals enough to keep the water steaming. A wooden plank stretches across one side of the tub, lavishly decorated with plates piled high with food and golden goblets of wine.

Floating in the water are herbs that produce a beautiful fragrance as they steep, candles are lit and near the opposite end of the bath, a musician is seated, gently strumming their lute.

“I thought you might like to enjoy your dinner with a long, hot, wet, soak.” You turn to your husband, licking your lips as your fingers deftly untie the yellow lacing which adorns your surcoat.

Kylo only hums in agreement, takes a step closer to you. You offer yourself to him, allow him to undress you in a way that he always clamors to do. The surcoat is a fine silk brocade, a pale blue with yellow filigree. It slips away from your body as Kylo unties it the rest of the way, and you practically shiver with anticipation as he unclasps a golden armband around the sleeve of your kirtle from each arm. After that, you are free to raise those arms above your head, and Kylo’s warm hands pull the bright blue kirtle up and over your head, letting it fall down to the floor, leaving you naked before him.

“Into the tub.” He instructs, reaching up to caress your cheek for a moment, before unpinning your hair and watching as it cascades down your back.

You do as you’re told happily, letting out a great moan as you step into the hot water, your body slinking down down down until your breasts are just barely covered. Kylo can see your nipples through the water, can see how they grow stiff as you adjust to the temperature. You look divine, next to the food. He doesn’t know what he wishes to feast on first.

Kylo rids himself of his clothing quickly, glad to have stopped by the armory to turn in his suit and mail for polishing before making his way to you. And make his way to you he does, the water spilling ever so slightly over the side of the great wooden tub, his muscles grateful for the heat of the water. Steam clings to his body as it does to yours, and he does not even think before corralling you onto his lap, licking and kissing slowly, steadily, at your throat.

“Open your mouth.” You whisper.

He looks up at you, sees what you have in your hand. You offer him what appears to be a large chunk of meat, roast venison and a perfectly soft and fragrant garlic clove. He accepts it, sucks on the fingers which enter his mouth as you press the food against his tongue. It is so flavorful, so tender and juicy, he moans as he licks up your wrist where a small droplet of sauce from the meat had rolled down.

“Again.” You grin, glad that the taste pleases him.

This time it is a large chunk of quail dipped in a pomegranate wine sauce, and the time after that it is steamed clams. Each bite is succulent, his mouth waters for it, so much so that he finds himself drooling as he watches you feed yourself in time. One for him, one for you, back and forth until your bellies begin to fill with the richness of the food.

Roast beef cooked as rare as was allowed, wrapped in a puff pastry spiced with saffron. Turnips, asparagus, carrots roasted in wine, scoops of hummus he licks and sucks off your fingers, out of your palm, kissing your skin after he swallows. You look at him with such joy, such heat behind your eyes.

“I know you have a plan of some sort, blossom, and if it were to kill me I’d be dead already.” Kylo teases, as he begins to feel…different.

Different in a good kind of way, different in a way that has him sweating – and not from the heat of the bath. His cock is achingly hard, his heart flutters, his stomach swoops, he finds that he has such a strong desire to fuck you that it’s beginning to take over every other thought in his mind. You are still on his lap, naked and beautiful and you smell so sweet, his dick rubs against your thighs and it has started to drive him mad.

Are you so affected? You must be, you’ve eaten the same foods, drank the same wine, surely you must be so affected.

He cranes his neck to look at you, and oh yes you are.

“Quite the opposite. I missed you.” You moan ever so softly as you move his hand.

Those hands of his have had a death grip on your waist and thigh, the way you’re seated on his lap has you turned sideways and your breasts are nearly pushed up into his face, he is nearly drooling with want.

“I was gone for two days.” His voice is husky, hoarse, as you guide one down between your legs, his large palm cupping your pussy. He can feel it pulsing for him, and his throat goes dry.

“Two days is a long time to go without my Knight in shining armor.” You whimper, pushing his hand against you more fully.

He gets the hint, and two of his thick fingers push into you easily to your absolute satisfaction. It’s a hard angle, but you waste no time wrapping your free hand around the thick shaft of his cock, giving it a steady squeeze. With your other hand, you reach back to the board of food and press a cream-covered chestnut into his mouth, and his cock only throbs harder.

“Oh!” Suddenly he understands, it’s the food that’s making you both like this, spurring you on. Something about the reaction your bodies have to the flavors, the spices, the something oh he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know but he wants more of it right now.

“There you are handsome.” Your face breaks into a breathtaking grin, and your hand speeds up, now that he’s finally gotten your plan all along. His moves in time with yours, and you lean your head on his shoulder as you jerk each other off, breathing a little quicker as you ask, “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” Kylo is quick to respond, his fingers moving and stretching your cunt so you can better take him. He is so hard, his cock is so heavy in your hand even there under the water, the curve of it a promise of that sweet burn of pleasure as your fingers trail up and down the thick veins which protrude from it. “Heaven above your touch has never failed in its magnificence.”

“I’m so wet for you Kylo, feel me, touch me, see how wet I am.” Your mouth is dropped open, the wet shine of your tongue darting out to lick at your lips, and something in Kylo’s brain trips up when your hips open wide enough for him to slip in a third finger all the way to the knuckle.

“I – I have to fuck you.” He grunts out, and you’re nodding before he’s even finished getting the words out.

“Grab me, go on, be rough with me.” You encourage eagerly, quickly, happily, practically begging him, “I need you, Kylo, I need you.”

With all the strength he possesses, he lifts you clean off his lap and turns you more fully to straddle him. Your back is pressed firmly against his chest as he sits you hard on his hard and doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he’s planting his heels on the basin of the tub and thrusting up into you.

“Ah!” You gasp aloud, your mouth latching onto his throat, teeth sinking into the meat of his neck as your muffled voice moans, “You’re so big, fuck -- !”

“You can take it blossom, my good girl, I know you can.” He pulls out nearly all the way, feels the muscles of your pelvis clench around him, desperately wanting to keep him inside, before thrusting back in and knocking the wind out of you. “It’s – shit that’s tight – it’s only been two days.”

“You have to fuck me twice as hard, to make up for it, oh Kylo!” You arch your back slightly, just enough for your ribcage to expand as you take in sharp breaths on each hard push of his cock through the slick folds of your pussy.

The water does the unfortunate thing of washing away all the pretty slick that comes out of your body, but you are smart, so smart, and you’ve oiled up the water so that it might help things go smoothly, and Kylo groans groans groans as he shoves his cock farther into your cunt.

“Did you play with yourself while I was gone?” He demands to know, his arms hooking under your armpit and nearly holding you in a headlock, keeping you still. You’re squirming so much, the sensations from the food filling your whole body and driving you just as mad as he.

“No!” You wriggle against his hold, wanting to touch your clit, wanting to fuck yourself harder on his cock. He’s got you tight, the fast drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning loud, “No I saved it just for you, I haven’t come in ages!”

“M-me neither.” He grunts, pleased to hear this. Sometimes you’re not so well behaved, sometimes he has to punish you for not following his orders. But this time, this time you were good, he can tell, can tell by how tight you are.

“You gonna come in me?” The back of your throat clicks as tears of pleasure begin to cling up on your eyelashes, “Are you going to fuck me full of your big hot load?”

“(Y/N),” He pants grunts groans as the water splashes out of the tub, as he bounces you on his cock hard fast wet wet wet, so hot, burning up from the inside out, “Say my name, keep – I want to hear you crying for me.”

“Please! Please, I – Kylo, Kylokyloooohgod!” You’re shouting, eyes shut tight as your body tremors on top of his, as your teeth clack together from how your orgasm shoots up your spine.

Quickly, Kylo grabs that golden goblet from which he has sipped all night, cradles the back of your head gently yet firmly and tips the rim to your lips.

“Drink this and come on my cock.” He encourages, and you let it pour into your mouth, overflow all across your chin, let it drip and stream in rivulets between your breasts.

He has to see, has to taste it, so he pulls off of you for only long enough to turn you to face him fully, your legs shaking so badly that they cannot find purchase around his hips, so he must hold you up. You take the goblet in a pleasure weak hand and slosh spiced wine onto your breasts more heavily, your hand pushing Kylo’s head down to take them into his mouth.

“Fuuck,” He sucks and licks the wine off your nipples, broad strokes of his tongue as he lifts and lowers your hips fast fast fast and hard, fucks you on his cock, “I’m going to come in you, I’m going to come in your perfect fucking cunt.”

“Yesyesyesyes!” You’re hiccupping, crying around him, chin wobbling and eyes shut tight as you clench around him.

He slams his cock up into your pussy once more, his spine on fire from pleasure, tears coming to his own eye, drool hanging off his teeth and chin, as he comes and comes and comes, hot and thick, and so much of it that you’re sure you can feel it spreading through you. You’re moaning, and he’s grunting lowly against your chest, sounding almost like he’s in pain.

“I’m…fuck I’m still hard, I’m – ” Kylo’s starting to see spots, his vision clouding out as his cock pulses inside of you, spills and spills and spills but still craves more, “Blossom, don’t move don’t -- ohh.”

You lay him back against the edge of the tub, determined and hungry, eyes blown wide and pupils black with lust, as you find a second wave of energy to ride him fast fast fast, your hands braced on his chest as his cock splits you into two.

He grabs at your chest and kisses all over you, harsh biting kisses that will leave marks and bruises, the kind that when you’ve had your fill of one another, he will press his thumbs into to make you moan once again and again as they fade. He bites down, sucks and kisses at your shoulders, your breasts, your throat, his hand slipping down between your bodies to shakily rub at your clit.

“I’m so close, harder? Harder, please, please I’ll do anything – right there!” Your voice rises rises rises in volume until it breaks, cracks under the pressure of pleasure and screams for him, “Don’t you dare stop, don’t you fucking stop!”

“I won’t -- I need more,” Kylo’s jaw is dropped, his eyes rolled back into his head, visions of heaven sprayed behind his eyelids, visions of you. He does not even open his eyes to groan, “Stars, but you’re beautiful.”

You come again, your body wracked through with nerves so hard that you’re nearly convulsing, knees shuddering shaking around his wide hips. Your body collapses on top of his lap, gone limp in a way that has your hips relaxing and somehow, somehow, Kylo’s cock is forced deeper from the gravity of your relaxation.

He comes again, simply from the sheer all encompassing feeling of you – your body on his, your cunt tight hot wet on his cock, your hands in his hair, your taste on his tongue, your scent curling up into his nostrils and making him have no other means to function other than to come in you.

Your breathing is hot and ragged, both of you. The lute playing has since finished, the musician likely having gotten the hint and left the room unnoticed. Food has been knocked everywhere, goblets of wine are overturned. Everything is still, and Kylo is content to simply hold you and caress you as you rest your head on his chest.

He brushes your soaked hair away from where it sticks to your back, his calloused fingers grazing up and down your spine as he softly kisses your temple.

“Thank you, darling.” You sigh, your voice unsteady but filled with bliss.

“You’re trembling.” He chuckles deep in his chest, looks down at where you’re against his chest and kisses you properly, kisses your shaking smile.

“You’re still hard.” You shift your hips on his cock, not having pulled off of him yet. He groans softly, licking his lip as pleasure tickles his mind. You regard him with such love that he has to blush, when you say, “Tis a good thing then, that the fire underneath this bath has not gone out yet.”

“What have you done to me? What spell am I under?” He mumbles softly, teasingly, wanting to make you laugh. He does so love to hear you laugh.

“No such witchcraft, only the natural properties of a good meal, good wine, and good baths.” You wink at him, tucking his wet hair behind his ears. He blushes some more, embarrassed of the way his ears stick out, but you only give them a sweet tug.

“Mmm, and better pussy.” He agrees, picking up a last surviving piece of food that had not yet fallen off the board, and pressing it into your mouth, gearing up for a long night ahead.  

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren smut #medieval au #medieval!kylo #knight!kylo ren #historical au #my writing #knight!kylo

[wickednerdery]

Title: Save a Mobius, Ride a Loki: Mort 2 Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Loki, Rick & Morty Pairing/character: Loki & Mobius, Rick & Morty Rating: FRM Summary: “You’re coming with us.” Notes: This is a continuation of the last part and something that’s been stuck in my head since before Loki premiered I’ve been dying to write, so I have. Knowledge of Rick & Morty is helpful, but not required. This story has adult content, language, and violence. For length, etc, there’s a Read More:

“Hey!” Mobius waves big, with both arms, to gain the other two’s attention. “I’d like to talk, can we talk? Hey, hellooo!!” With their fighting he’s able to reach the ship before anyone takes note...and it’s the ship.

“Hold it right there, ass-hole.” It’s like being cursed at by an analogue Miss Minutes, if she were a ship with weapons at the ready.

“Woah, woah, hey, what the fuck?!” Rick’s attention snaps to the man. “You don’t just sneak up on a man’s space cruiser!”

The boy leans over. “You don’t just sneak up on a man’s space cruiser, man.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Yeah, what the fuck is wrong with you?” The boy repeats.

Loki exits the saloon, magic at the ready, as weapons appear in Mobius’ direction. For all their rough start in the interrogation, he admired Mobius and did not wish him harm.

The agent’s hands are already up as he back away. “I...I just want to talk!” He tries to make himself out over the other two. “Can we talk?” Then catches sight of Loki approaching. “Loki, stop!” 

The order halts Loki in his tracks - it is not said in anger, but concern. This is new, from just about anyone. He lets his magic fade, sending only a bit in the other’s direction. A way to protect, to ensure Mobius’ll not be harmed should the others or their ship turn violent.

“Loki, like the Norse god?” Rick’s eyes narrow towards the being. “Mmm…” He belches. “No wonder he took my shit.”

Morty looks over with interest. “I thought Loki had red hair, Rick?”

Rick huffs. “Multiple universes, multiple Lokis.”

“Well, which one is this?”

“How the hell should I know, you think I follow every Loki? Think I’m some kind of Loki-worshipping fangirl that knows every single one there is out there?” Rick starts to think, calculate and eliminate possibilities. “Looks like the Mousey one.”

“Mousey one?” 

“I beg your pardon?” Loki interjects his offense.

Rick pays the god no mind. “Yeah, Mort, you know the one. The one that that mouse-loving company made people fall in love with only to make him progressively weaker and more ridiculous until he’s finally choked out by a giant grape.”

“Oh...yeah...that one.”

If Loki wasn’t so flabbergasted at the commentary, he’d have blasted them both into oblivion.

“Hey, give me back my portal gun, you Mousey son-of-a-bitch!”

Mobius senses the increasing tension, the loss of interest in him. “I have a proposition for you...Rick.”

The elder man turns back to the one standing beside his ship, burps. “Not interested.”

“I think you might be. You’re a man of science, right? Pretty smart guy.”

“I’m not ‘pretty smart’...” Liquor bottles and cans tumble out, spill across the floor, as Rick opens the hatch. “I’m a fucking genius.”

“I know.” Mobius confirms.

Rick scowls, unconvinced, over the mass of liquor bottles. “All right, Brokeback Mobius, thrill me.”

“If looks could kill.” Mobius smiles back, confidently amused. “Here, tell me what you think of this.” He hands the defunct TemPad over.

While Morty shows interest, Rick only gives a cursory look. “Earth-618 TemPad used by the mindless bureaucrats at the Time Variance Authority. It won’t work here.”

“Yeah...we figured that out, but…” The agent shifts, smile remaining. “Maybe you can do something with it.”

“Why?” He tosses it behind him. “I don’t do time travel.”

“No?”

“Time travel’s broke, inter-dimensional space travel’s woke, bro.”

Mobius presses on. “Okay, but someone like you…”

“A genius.”

“Could probably turn it into something else.”

“Sure. I could also turn myself into a pickle or make a robot that gives my grandson nothing but blowjobs and a constant high off Adderall. So what?”

Loki pulls his magic forward, preparing to teleport himself and Mobius in case negotiations go sideways. He’ll not simply hand over the portal gun; something the lad seems to intuit as his eyes set on Loki like a watchdog.

The agent gets up with a sigh. “Never mind, I was wrong thinking you’d want to do anything with a…useless piece of technology.” He collects the TemPad, muttering disappointment. “Probably can’t anyway...”

Rick narrows eyes at him. “Are you trying to bait me? Is that it?” 

“No, no…” Yes, yes, he absolutely was. The man reminds Mobius of Loki, utterly brilliant, and completely unable to resist proving himself. “You’re not interested, I respect that.” He tucks the TemPad into his jacket. “Everyone has their limits.”

Rick gets up, bottle in hand. “Hey, fuck you and your not-ginger Loki, I have no limits!”

“Oh, sure you do.“

Morty whines. “Rick, just freeze them or something so we can grab the portal gun and go!”

“How the fuck am I gonna freeze a frost giant, you dumb little son-of-a-bitch?!” Before the boy has the chance to offer an alternative Rick continues. “There’s no fucking way I’m letting some know-nothing pencil pusher with a secret hard-on for a god of pranks...”

The statement flusters Mobius, throws him off his rhythm, as Rick’s rant continues.

“...Think I can’t do something as simple as turning some shitastic time travel device into something actually worthwhile!”

"Then prove us wrong.” Loki jumps in to point Rick in the direction he and Mobius ultimately need. “Make the TemPad something worthwhile, perhaps another portal gun, and we will return yours.”

“Fine!” Rick snaps, then belches into calm. “But I need my lab.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Mobius chimes back in, simply relieved it’s worked. “We’ll stay here until you return. I promise.” A promise he intends to keep, to make Loki keep.

Morty looks to his grandfather, who looks back, before they both burst into laughter. “Yeah, right, how stupid do we look?” The boy was young, not naive.

“You’re -” Rick belches again. “Coming with us.”

Mobius and I both agreed it best he handle this lest someone end up dead, haha! I’m sure Loki and Rick will interact more later and am excited for him and Mobius to meet the rest of the Smith/Sanchez family. After that they’ll either return to a (different) cowboy world or move on...not sure, lol! (And, for anyone curious Morty is about 14 years old.)

All gifs made found on Google, combined by me, credit goes to whoever their OG makers are!

Those who may read: @holykryptonitekitten @lady-crowned-with-stars @ultrarebelheart @chibiyanai @dreamsofapiratelife @biiskuitx @delightfulheartdream @antoniostarshadow13 @mobiusbmobius​ @zippythewondersquirrel …If you wish to be tagged in future pieces, please let me know!

#loki #loki series #rick and morty #crossover #fanfiction #mobius #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #mobius m mobius #loki x mobius #rick sanchez #morty smith #time variance authority #tva loki #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #cowboy au #my writing #not my gif