#(“And the nature of his [soul]… was it to be enveloped? He is suspicious suddenly that it was *not*. that

[lepertamar]

i hate………it when my loves’s patterns look like they are mere expressions of a preexisting and underlying platonic ideal i Actually love…..there was a post i saw asking if ppl had any kinks that they only had specifically in the context of doing it at or with one specific person, the implication and responses suggested this was very strange and unusual and it made me realize……nearly .all my kinks are like this—i do not have a kink for x, and merely want someone who is able to fulfill it. i have a kink for ‘doing x with this one specific person who is not interchangeable with any other person on earth who has ever lived.’ same with broader contexts of relationships—i don’t want to be looking for someone who fits Into a preexisting slot for me, i am not into a particular 'type' of thing and looking for real things that can fill—or mimic, live up to, sort of approximate—that role. that is not me! that is so not me!

sure there are obviously some patterns but that’s different, that’s only after the fact. the encounters are what create the pattern in me in the first place. my loves — in ideas, stories, etc — are not ‘oh this is an Example of the preexisting Thing i want’. they are things that i encountered that caused some kind of reaction in my electron bonds that cause me to stick to it and become a slightly different shape, and sure some of that is only possible because of what i am, but mostly it’s that once i have encountered this thing that reshapes my electron bonds and sticks to me, then i also become capable of sticking to similar things, or completely different things i wasn't able to stick to before, sometimes due to convoluted associations, often transcending the association after a bit and connecting with the other things independently of it. i have a really really hard time not reflexively — even just in my own brain—‘justifying’ my loves and patterns by trying to make up an underlying preexisting Empty Slot in the way other people do — trying unthinkingly to explain and come up with ‘a type’ (preexisting) that this one singular particular one-of-a-kind thing or person is just a mere example of/fitting candidate for—but it’s a lie when i do this. it’s lying to myself, and lying to others. i think i have done it on this blog before. but it’s ugly, and untrue, and not me.

[infinitebread]

Freefall

Pairing: Toph/Aang

Rating: T+

Description:  For a brief moment they were free falling together, completely at gravity’s mercy. And Aang was the only thing Toph could see in this world.

*******

Toph really didn’t care what Aang was thinking.

She didn’t.  

In fact, she wasn’t the least bit bothered when they flew back to their make shift camp in complete, absolute, mind numbing silence. A gentle woosh, the tell-tale sign of a typical earth kingdom summer night, filling up the space where laughter and chatter should have been.

She wasn’t the tiniest bit perturbed when the first thing the young airbender did when they landed was wordlessly slide off his seat atop Appa's head and immediately busy himself with setting up the camp without so much as a peep sent in her general direction.

And she definitely didn’t have any feelings of indignation when he finally approached her, extending a friendly arm into her space, only to realize, as their excitable lemur companion hopped off her shoulder and onto Aang's waiting forearm with a series of enthusiastic chirps and gurgles, that it was meant to be a perch for Momo.

It took everything within her to stay calm and not hault his movements by earthbending him halfway into the ground with a furious, “What is your problem?”, right then and there…

But she didn’t care. Really.

Though Toph would never admit it out loud she was aware of the fact that, as a child, she wasn’t always the best at controlling her temper or dealing with conflict. But she wasn’t a little kid anymore.  At nineteen, Toph had sat through a lifetime of diplomatic meetings (much to her chagrin), negotiated with countless criminals during hostage situations (even though she would have greatly preferred pounding them into the ground), and even survived her most challenging discussion to date: reconciling with her parents.

Which is precisely why when Twinkletoes decided to give her the silent treatment without reason or preamble she reacted as any mature, adult person would: she bended the biggest freaking earth tent she could muster and sat in it, seething, for over half an hour.

You know, as one does.

Digging her heels into the soft, loamy familiarity of the ground beneath her, she reached out using her seismic sense, pinpointing her cantankerous other half’s barely-there-feather-light vibrations. He was preparing something on a fire, his tall lanky form moving with uncharacteristically heavier steps, as if he was being weighed down by thoughts too grave to utter out loud. The earth bending master felt her stomach sink. Worry began to colour her irritation. She thought back on the day’s events in an effort to make sense of her companion’s sudden change in demeanor.

*******

He had been in high spirits earlier that morning when they had received a report of suspicious activity occurring around a small earth kingdom town. It was suspected that a nearby factory was being used as a hideout by a ragtag team of dangerously violent robbers and miscreants who had been terrorizing the townsfolk for months. Lucky for them, the Avatar and Sifu Toph Beifong were on the case. And unluckily for the robbers, the factory in question just so happened to be etched onto the side of a cliff.

The mountain was colossal, forebodingly so, the terrain peppered with jagged rocks and heights that promised any soul cursed with a slippery grip a nightmarish demise. This would have no doubt intimidated even the most experienced climber. But Toph and Aang merely smirked at the challenge. The robbers couldn’t have picked an area more suited to the duo’s talents if they tried.

“It’s almost like they’re begging us to take them down.” Aang grinned. With one simple movement he drew out his staff and then released the wings of the glider in another, ready to execute a plan they had concocted seemingly through shared thoughts alone.

“It would be rude of us not to, to be honest.” Toph agreed. Cracking her knuckles in anticipation. Confidence exuding from every pore.

They were almost always in sync. Their hearts and minds operating on a wavelength made just for the two of them.

“We should split up. I’Il take the skies. They probably won’t be expecting an aerial attack. That’s when you--"

“I'll take advantage of the distraction you’ll have created and metal bend as many of those goons into the walls as I can. Got it.”

He smiled fondly. Enamored by her cockiness. The affection he directed at her was almost audible.

“Anything to add?”

“Yeah, actually. How about this time I fly in through the roof? Just to shake things up a little.”

The sound of his laughter reverberated through her like a gentle shockwave and the subsequent quick kiss he placed on her forehead filled her stomach with butterfly-moths.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But you’re considering it.”  She teased.

“Not gonna respond to that.” He had already started running, gaining the momentum needed to take off before shouting, “Be safe.”

“Do damage.” She called back.

She stretched out her senses, reaching downwards, deep into the ground beneath her, calling upon the stubborn element that was hers to enjoin. A large pile of rocks catapolted her into the air briefly, before another rose to catch her, and then another and another until she reached her destination.

The factory was quiet. And yet it wasn’t. The whirring, ticking, pounding and clanging of metallic machinery was unmistakable. If there was one sound Toph knew very well, it was the sound of metal: obnoxiously high-pitched and unapologetically sonorous, as if to mock the very nature of the soundless earth from which it was born, with its incessant clickity-clacking.

The factory had once been used to manufacture weapons for fire nation soldiers in the former Earth Kingdom colonies, but almost 8 years after the war had ended, it was practically abandoned. Save of course for the criminals said to be using it as a hide out. But that was just the thing. There was plenty of sound coming from the machines but Toph couldn’t detect a single human heart beat from within the building.

Did they receive the wrong intel?

Then it hit her.

She heard the explosion before she felt it.

A trap.

 The words had barely registered in her mind before she realized she was airborne. She was airborne and her ears were ringing. She was airborne and there were little chunks of debris falling all around her. She was airborne and the wind had been knocked right out of her. No she wasn’t airborne.

 She was falling.

Her entire world was a conglomeration of shapes, vibrations and sounds but without her beloved earth beneath her her world was empty and quiet and dark. And terrifying.

She had no idea how far off the ground she was, too disoriented to even make sense of which way was up or down. A distant blast of heat radiated towards her. She felt it on her face. And suddenly this all felt familiar. She had been in this situation before. Years ago, dangling precariously over the edge of a war blimp. A comet raging through the sky as she held onto Sokka’s fingertips for dear life. The feelings of suffocating hopelessness and indescribable fear forcing her to shed silent tears.

Toph was certain she was gonna die.

Both then and now.

Warm arms suddenly enveloped her. The quiet nothingness around Toph was replaced by the frantic yet comforting thump-thump of a familiar heart beat. He held her to him and probably said something she didn’t hear with the roaring of the wind and violent crunch of debris crashing down around them. For a brief moment they were free falling together, completely at gravity’s mercy. And Aang was the only thing Toph could see in this world.

*******

She wasn’t quite sure what exactly happened next after that. Next thing she knew they were back on solid ground, the inky black void dissipated the moment her feet touched the earth and she was almost overwhelmed by the return of all her senses. She felt like she could breathe again. The shock of what had just transpired soon left her system, and she had been back to herself again, ready to regroup and kick ass. Those robbers had just ticked off the World’s Greatest Earth Bender and, as soon as new intel surfaced, there would be a reckoning.

Aang on the other hand, after doing a quick inspection of her for any serious injuries had fallen into an almost meditative silence. Which concerned her at first but it went on for so long, it began to irritate her.

Correction. Irritated. She no longer cared.

Nope. Not at all.

She cared so little in fact that when Aang rapped lightly on the front of her earth tent she absolutely did not jump to her feet entirely too quickly, and she definitely did not bend the makeshift stone door down before he had even begun to knock a second time.

Okay. Maybe she cared a little.

He held something out in the hand that hadn’t been knocking. She recognized the aroma immediately. He had made congee. With mushrooms. Her favorite.

A peace offering?

“A bribe.” He stated sheepishly. As if he could read her mind. “Come over by the fire, I wanna try to heal your wounds.”

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t touched by the thoughtful gesture. However, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily though.

“So you decided to finally break your random vow of silence? S'that it?” she asked once they were settled by the fire.

She crossed her arms in an effort to look unimpressed only to immediately uncross them and wince in pain when her fingers brushed against a bruise on her forearm. Her arms were littered with them, cuts too. But those were the extents of her injuries. She had been very fortunate.

“What do you mean?” He responded distractedly, the sound of water splashing as he bended it onto his palms to heal her. He had learned from Katara so she knew he was competent at healing but only with minor surface level injuries.

“You’re kidding right? You’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“I have?”

She contorted her face in a way that she hoped conveyed both utter annoyance and the non-verbal equivalent of ‘duh'.

“Guess I just had a lot on my mind. I’m really sorry.”

“Uh huh.” An unwelcome thought suddenly occurred to her. She exhaled loudly and braced herself for her next words. “Look Twinkles, I understand if you wanna blame me for messing up back at the factory.”

“Wait, what?” his voice was genuinely incredulous, but she needed to say these words, even just for her own sake.

“I should have realized it was a set up sooner.” She clenched a fist in her lap.

“Toph.”

“They set off all those machines to drown the bomb out but still I should’ve--"

“Toph.”

Aang silenced her with a gentle tug on her wrist and pulled her closer.

“I don’t blame you. At all. Not even a little bit.” He cups one of her newly healed hands in both of his. The gesture annihilates any ensuing words she had planned to say. “I almost lost you today, Toph. I kept thinking about what would have happened if I hadn’t caught you in time…and you looked really scared…I don’t even wanna think about what could’ve--,” he breathed in deeply, gathering his emotions, summoning courage, “I love you, Toph.”

Her whole body stiffened in shock. But he continued on, his heart beating with all the nervous energy of a trapped sparrow-keet, yet his voice remained calm and betrayed nothing.

“I know this is kinda sudden and unexpected,” he carried on while beginning to heal the abrasions along her arm with feather light touches, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “but I’m sure of how I feel now. I guess I have been for a while actually.”

She blinked at him, mouth slightly agape. He swallowed anxiously.

“You don’t have to say it back. I completely understand if this is too random. I just wanted you to know that I care about you, Toph.” He chuckled in spite of himself, “A lot.”

He had moved his hands to heal the cut that ran along her face, just below her eye, swiping it away with the stroke of his thumb across her cheek bone. Before he could move his hand away, Toph held it in place with her own. A move that surprised both of them.

“I love you too, Aang.” She said honestly. She had never ever been one for mushy declarations but…he made it so easy. She had long suspected it and the sincerity in both their heartbeats merely confirmed it.

“Really?” Their faces were close together now, foreheads almost touching. The proximity thrilled her.

She answered him by closing the gap between them, crashing their lips together. He immediately responded grabbing the back of her neck and deepening the kiss, causing her to lose all coherent thought. Her arms wrapped around his neck instictively and for the second time that day, it felt as if the whole world had fallen away and there was only him. Neither of them noticed the abandoned bowl of congee tip over and spill into the soil. All Toph was aware of in those moments were needy hands and a series of heady kisses on her cheeks, her nose, along her jaw, on her neck and her eyelids, until he claimed her lips once more.

She felt like she was falling again.

They finally broke apart, panting, eyes closed, hearts racing, foreheads touching.

Before her senses returned to her in full, Toph found herself wanting to tell him more. She wanted to tell him he meant so much to her too. She wouldn’t know what to do without him either.

 And that she thinks she’s not afraid of falling anymore because she knows he’ll catch her…

But mushy declarations still weren’t her forte. She would say all of this to him. One day.

Today, she gave him one more quick, lingering kiss, smirked and told him,

“The congee’s getting cold.”

[cedricslover]

Troubled pt.5

Pairing: Cedric x Fem! Reader

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.6 (Final)

Series summary: A very unfortunate situation happened and it resulted in very unfortunate events. You had everything, a good boyfriend that everyone dreamed of, best friends that you got in a twin pack, and a loving school. It was a calm before a storm and in your sixth year the storm came. You faced the consequences your deceased parents run from, you were only left with your only family, your little brother. What would you do in order to save him? The answer is, everything, even if it means joining a terrorist group of wizards, joining THE DEATH EATERS…

Chapter Summary: 3 weeks have passed, you did get hate, but after a while it calmed down. Maybe because of the new “thing”, Cedric and Cho. They look good together and you tried your best to be happy for them. Not until the second task, Cho was important to him, you get it. As you headed back to the castle you were greeted by Dobby and took you to the residence of the Black family. You found out what your parents really did, and when you were on your way back to the castle after the talk you had with Remus and the others, Cedric suddenly appeared in front of you at Hogsmeade, and is that worry in his eyes?

Note: there is no specific house:))) i can make requests if y’all have one. 

Warnings: Angst, torturing, mentions of death. And itty little fluff.

Word count: 3.9k

Sometimes, it would really hurt after you made the right choice, but you would always wonder, was it really the right choice if it cuts this much. 

“Y/N?” George snapped his fingers that directed your attention to him. He was smiling sadly to you, “Fred and I brought you Cauldron Cakes.” he sat beside you and handed you a bag, it wasn’t just Cauldron Cakes, there were also Chocolate Frogs, Liquorice Wands, and Acid Pops. 

“You didn’t have to bother George, I’m fine really. It’s been what? 2 or 3 weeks already, I’m doing great” you smiled widely at him, the corners of your eyes wrinkled as you tried your best. “Yeah alright” his face relaxed and shifted his view on what you were looking at earlier. 

You were at the courtyard, sitting on a bench, you wanted to breathe fresh air after cramming. It felt good, just feeling the February breeze blowing your hair, giving you kisses, it was freedom being blown by the wind. You didn’t mind the chatter of the other students who were hanging out in the courtyard, their laughter wasn’t annoying at all, it felt natural, their smiles weren’t forced-but you know each one of them has or is still fighting a battle. 

“You like it here now?” Fred arrived and sat at your other side, now you’re in the middle of the twins, “sort of” you scrunch your nose and titled your head, there was comfort seeing these people. It might sound weird because some of them hated you, although they must have forgotten about it already, you still received howlers and glares before. But after almost a month, they all seem to move on, you wished it was just that easy. 

“Is something itchy Y/N?” George asked you as you were unconsciously scratching your left forearm, he was about to reach for it but you instantly avoided it but not in a suspicious way, thankful for the snitch that suddenly went in your direction. 

You caught the snitch that’s why it was not suspicious, you would’ve kissed the person that owned that snitch but your mood changed in a snap as you saw who were walking towards you. 

It was Cho, with Cedric. 

“Oh hey, may I?” Cho pointed to your hand where the snitch is, your lips curved into a smile as you stood up and handed the snitch to Cho, you glanced at Cedric for a second and was greeted by his blank stare. You purse your lips as they start to walk away. 

“They’ve been spending more time together” Fred muttered after one whole minute of silence after you sat down again. You saw in your peripheral vision that George was mouthing him to not say anything. You half smiled and pulled your head back and watched the sky, the clouds moving as they took unrecognizable shapes, the birds flying, and even a few of the students who were riding their brooms. 

“It’s fine George, and yes, I know. Who wouldn’t notice. Not me” You inhaled the fresh air, images flashing before your eyes. 

You walked back to your dorm and closed the door. Your roommates weren’t there yet. You took this opportunity to grab your trunk and open it. Hidden at the very bottom of it was a letter. At first look you would think that this was just an ordinary letter, but seeing that there was a hair purposely attached to the envelope, you know who it was from.

Dear Y/N,

             Your brother is fine, I heard from a fly that there’s something that is going on in your life. End that now. Death Eaters don't do attachment unless it is attachment by blood. I have high expectations for you, my lovely subject. You don’t want to disappoint me right? My coming back is almost near and if you ruin that, then prepare to say farewell to your ickle brother. 

You trembled as you read it. This letter came just before that picture of Cedric. You didn’t have the guts to read it before, until now. You had to make sacrifices, Cedric can find another girl, and it seems like he already did.

“Ced?” you called his name while you lay at his chest, “Yes, dove?” he sounded sleepy, his arms wrapping you. “If we broke up, would you find another girl?” you looked at him, he was just staring at the ceiling, his long lashes peeking at you, you pouted as you thought how unfair it was, why do men always have the long lashes. 

“How about you?” he was now looking at your eyes, his stares were direct to your soul, in his eyes you can’t hide any secrets, it would all be naked. 

“I don’t know” you shrugged, broke the eye contact, and reached for his hand and intertwined it with yours. 

His chest was going up and down, you felt his warmth wrapping you “My answer would be,” he guided your face to look at him again, “no” he smiled sweetly, “I date to marry Y/N, and I don’t think I would love anyone like how I love you” he planted a kiss on your forehead.

Liar.

Another day and it was the day of the second task, you weren’t so sure as to why Harry was so off. 

“Harry, you alright?” You walked up to him as you headed to the Black Lake, worry and anxiety was all over his face. He looked at you and you saw how he swallowed so excessively for many times, showing that he is not okay, “Have you seen Hermione and Ron?” Harry asked, his eyes can’t focus in one direction. You stopped and grabbed his shoulders. 

“No. I haven’t seen them, but Harry, you need to focus.” you stared at his eyes, your brows furrowed. “You’ll do great, and I know Hermione and Ron are fine, they wouldn’t miss their bestfriend fight for 1000 galleons” you chuckled as the tense in his face slowly disappeared. “Come on” you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and headed to the shore. 

“So what’s in the egg?” you asked him, he was still looking around and you understood him. Even if it was you who was in his shoes you would be anxious, this tournament can bring you death or glory. And your best friends, your supports, weren’t there, it must feel twice as heavy.

“‘come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching ponder this;

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour, the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.’. 

That’s what it said-or more like sang” Harry looked at your confused face. “So they took something important or close to you?” your eyes squinted at the view of the twins who were still doing their gambling booth.

“I think so” he yawned, he must have gotten little sleep. 

“Step up mates, don’t be shy!” you heard George and Fred calling the students, “Merlin, what’s the point of this?” you let go of Harry and he went to his classmates, while you headed to the twins. 

“Oi! What’s the score?” you asked that made their heads turn to you in shock, their faces brightened up and told you the score. 

“Shut up. Fleur’s great” you rolled your eyes and stood beside them. “Yeah we know” they both said and fixed their gaze on Fleur, Fred immediately removed it and continued to take the bets while George was busy staring at somewhere, it wasn’t Fleur, but perhaps her friend. 

“You two doing fine?” you nudged George that made him slightly jump, he shook his head and smiled “got into an argument. Got any advice, lover girl?” he teased you, you laughed and pulled his ear, “If you continue this I swear to the founders of Hogwarts I am going to cut your ear off” you said while he chuckles and still saying ouch. 

Someone cleared their throat that made you three stop, “Ah! Pretty boy, what is it that you need?” Fred asked while secretly pokes you. “I’m going to place a bet” he still has that cold stare whenever you’re around, completely different from that warm look he always had. 

“To who?” George asked, raising his eyebrows, “To myself” he handed a sickle, after that he just turned his back to the three of you, it was complete silence, it was never expected. 

“A confident lad we got there mate” George chuckled and handed the sickle to Fred who also laughed, you just plastered a smile on your face still observing Cedric’s back, he’s also tensed, you know him, but he’s just hiding that with his stupid smile. You never wished Cho to be here so much, where in the bloody Earth is that girl?

Your question was answered when you saw Cedric coming up from the water, Cho wrapped in his arm as they tried to inhale oxygen, your heart shattered at their sight. 

So she’s the valuable one, the one he’ll sorely miss. 

You smiled bitterly as the cheers grew louder. The two talked. Well if he’s with Cho, he won’t be risked to any danger. 

“I hate you.” you whispered and made your way back to the castle, there were no tears that streamed down to your face and you hated it too. Your heart felt heavy, it was so hard to breathe that you had to stop just to compose yourself. Your hands resting on your knees you were alerted when you heard the leaves crunching. Immediately getting your wand and looked up, only to be greeted by Dobby. 

“Dobby?” you slowly put down your hand and looked at the elf in front of you. “Hello Y/N Y/L/N. Dobby is here asked by Remus Lupin, Dobby can’t take you anywhere without your consent, will you come with me?” he was looking up at you, you treated Dobby like any other living thing, you never treated him as a slave, that’s why you’re part of S.P.E.W. 

You observed his face and later on accepted his hand, you would rather go wherever Dobby would take you, other than this place.

“Sirius?” You were greeted by Sirius black when you and Dobby arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place, you weren’t familiar with this place but you know this was the residence of the Black family. 

“How are you dear?” he hugged you, Sirius was sort of close with your family, well the Blacks to be specific. But you know your parents didn’t like most of them, they had a disagreement with most of the purebloods who sided with the Dark Lord.

“Let me go!” you shouted as the Carrow siblings held you and your parents. “Shh. You might wake your little brother, Y/N” Amycus peered at you and smiled devilishly. “Please. Don’t hurt my children” your father begged, your mother was now in tears as she looked at you, your lips were bleeding after Alecto slapped you. Thinking that would shut your mouth.

“Please” Your mother now looking at you apologetically, you just got home after getting a letter that your mother was ill, you got permission from school and this is what greeted you. 

“Let her go. I beg you” your mother looking at Amycus, her eyes pleading, the color drained out her face. “Alright, we’ll let your children go. But after the story telling” he smirked and looked at you. 

“You know, your father and mother, they were born in very influential and powerful families, pure blooded people. Until later on they were recruited to be on the Dark Lord’s side of course, they agreed but on one condition, no dark mark.” He looked at the forearms of your parents, true enough, there were none. 

“The Dark Lord believed they were loyal subjects,” Alecto brushed the tip of her wand to your jaw, her nostrils flared at the sight of you. “But after a while, it seemed like the enemies always knew what was up on our sleeves. We tried to contact them again, but they were-poof! Gone” she laughed like a mad woman and it immediately changed to her teeths grinding. She threw a spell at random spots of your house that made loud noises, glass shattering, portraits falling, and many more.

Your shouts being overwhelmed by the chaotic noise. After a while, the noise stopped, “Don’t worry about little Theodore, he’s sleeping soundly. No, we didn’t kill the poor child, we're not murderers” Amycus giggled. You felt your stomach turned upside down, you were disgusted by them. 

“Crucio!” Amycus pointed his wand to your parents, you screamed and screamed as you watched them wince in pain, their veins pulsing in their necks, trying their best to breathe. 

“STOP! PLEASE STOP!” You cried, your face went pale as you saw their faces. Your parents are in pain and you cannot do anything. “Please” you whispered, head facing the floor, you felt the energy drain from you. 

“Get your brother Y/N” your mother mouthed to you, the siblings not paying attention to them. She was still in pain, your eyes were blurry from the tears but you still nodded. You secretly reached for a big chunk of shattered glass and swiftly cut the rope that was tied to your wrist. 

It was as fast as lightning that you got into Theodore’s room. You locked the door, it was nice that every room in this house was chanted with an anti-apparition charm except for the living room. You picked up the sleeping boy and headed to his wardrobe. You heard banging on the door but you chose to not be distracted by it. 

The second wooden wardrobe looked normal on the outside, but it was not, it was an emergency door, while carrying your brother in your arms you also grabbed the emergency bag. Your parents always had an emergency plan and you never thought you would need it. 

Stepping inside the wardrobe, you wanted to go back, but you can’t use magic, you don’t even know enough spells to defend your family from skilled killers. 

You wiped your tears and continued. The sunlight immediately hit your face as soon as you stepped in the back of your house. With all the hesitation you have, you run, not minding the bag that has a dangling keychain where it says “With you, always and forever”. 

You hated the idea that they might have expected this, that this is what they are meant to be, that this was meant to happen. Because as you run away from your comfort, from your home, you hear the words that made tears race down your face, words that made your throat dry, words that made you hug your brother tighter. The words, 

Avada Kedavra.

“What?” you stood up from your seat as soon as Remus, Sirius, and Emmeline Vance revealed to you that your parents were double agents, they were with the Dark Lord for information and were really loyal to the Order of the Phoenix. 

“When we heard what happened to them it was too late. Y/N I’m sorry” Emmeline went up to you and embraced you, she taps your back as you cried on her shoulder. You knew your parents weren’t bad people, you just needed confirmation, somehow a needle was removed from your chest, somehow you felt relieved, knowing that they fought for the many, for the good. It was a cry of relief but at the same time there was pain in there, you finally cried after weeks, it felt satisfying.

“I’m sorry” you worded out while you fidgeted your fingers, again, you four were sitting at the table. You know, you have to tell them. Tell them that you were forced to get the dark mark, that you didn’t have any choice, tell them that they have your brother. Tell them.

“Something is bothering you. Tell us” Remus said, your eyes darted on the glass that was on the table, you were uneasy, your hand was sweating and the voices in your head were starting again. Tell them. Don’t tell them. They would help you. They will hate you. It was so noisy, so loud, so crowded, you can’t control it. You were so in your head that you didn’t realize you broke the glass just by staring at it. They all flinched. 

“I- I should go” you got up and was about to head to the door, but Sirius was fast enough to block the door while Emmeline held your wrist, “You can tell us Y/N, no one can hurt you here” she smiled to you, you sighed and slowly pulled the hem of your sleeve. 

And there they saw it, fear crossed their faces first but after a second, sadness took over. “No” Sirius started shaking his head, trying to deny what he just saw, “When did you get that?” Remus asked, his eyes fixed on your forearm. “Summer” you answered. You heard Emmeline sniffed and Sirius turned his back on you, his shoulders shaking. 

“Are you all crying right now?” you felt relieved that they didn’t hate you, or pushed you away. “Yes” they three answered, covering their faces with their hands. You wanted to chuckle, seeing grown ups cry, it was definitely not something you anticipated.

"You were just a child" Remus whispered but loud enough to fill the room, and there you realized, yeah, you were.

“They have my brother” you confessed as soon as they calmed down. “They blackmailed you?” Sirius asked while he wiped his nose with a tissue, you nodded as an answer. “Typical” his expression was dulled. 

“You have to work with us Y/N. Let us help you” Sirius said and they all looked at you, waiting for your answer. “We will save you and your brother” they smiled at you, their smile had hope. That’s why you gave them the answer you knew was right. “Yes. I will work with you” your eyes gleamed, suddenly, you weren’t alone. It felt good. 

Then, you told them all the information you got. Every.single.detail. 

“Thank you sir Dobby” you flashed your teeth to the elf beside you as you two arrived at Hogsmeade. “Sir? Dobby likes that very much” the corners of Dobby’s mouth turned up. You giggled seeing his happy smile. 

“You better go now Dobby, freedom awaits you” and so he did, he disappeared before your eyes after taking a look at your S.P.E.W. badge.

You walked now to Hogwarts, it was not that far and you could use a little time to think before you were greeted again by the smiles and laughs of people at the castle. Probably congratulating Cedric for saving Cho. 

Hogsmeade was not silent, there were still people but not that many during Hogsmeade weekend trips, you did want to buy something but it seems like you didn’t bring any money with you. You wished that you should’ve asked the twins for a few sickles, they obviously had some. 

Your eyes explored every store you passed as you walked, it felt carefree just walking to Hogsmeade freely, no students around, no yellings and such, it was just a fine afternoon. You didn’t notice that you spent hours at the Grimmauld Place, it was a nice chat with them and sooner, few arrived, such as Kingsley Shacklebot, and the new auror Nymphadora Tonks, she was fun to be with, especially given that she’s a metamorphmagus, that would be extremely cool and helpful at the same time. 

The sky seemed to be clear, you breathed in and shutted your eyes, the wind must have taken that as a cue to blow you, unconsciously, you smiled, freely, not forced, not fake, the smile that you didn’t even notice until a voice made you open your eyes. 

“I miss seeing that smile” 

In front of you was the man you love, the man you dreamt of everyday, the man you decided to save, the man that has grey captivating eyes, chiseled jaw, and a stupid smile that will melt you. 

Before you could even register that he was in front of you, he pulled you into a hug, tighter than ever, you wanted to go away from him, you wanted him to let you go, but your body said otherwise, because you wrapped your arms around his waist. Feeling his warmth. Feeling Cedric.

“Please don’t disappear like that again. I was so worried. Don’t do that again love. I don’t want to lose you” he muttered during your embrace, that's when you registered what was happening.

“No, no, no” you pushed him and took a step back. Your eyes pierced him, you didn’t know what to feel. You were confused, and by the looks of it, he was too. 

“Y/N- “ he was pacing, his brows knitted and he washed his face with his hands. It was always his move to show frustration. 

“Fuck.” he said and stopped, he stared at you and started saying things that made your stomach filled with butterflies, it made you feel bittersweet too. You still didn’t know what to feel.

“Y/N, I know you didn’t cheat on me, I know that decision we made during the night of Christmas was pure rubbish, and I don’t have any relationship with Cho. She likes my friend, and I was just helping her, she was also helping me…" he bites his lower lip, "to get back to you. That’s why I was shocked when she was the one I had to save. We were both confused, we don’t like each other" he continued.

"I miss you Y/N, you know that I would choose you over and over again because you’re my home, you’re my comfort, and I didn’t know what to do when you suddenly disappeared from my life. I also know how you can disappear anytime because of You Know Who, but I don’t care. I love you and I want to be by your side even now, I don’t want to protect you because I know you don’t need that but you need someone by your side, supporting you, and I want to be that person, I should be that person Y/N. I don’t want to regret anymore” Cedric’s eyes were filled with tears as he talked. It broke your heart seeing him like this. 

“Ced” you slowly walked to him and held his face with one hand, his eyes closed and squeezed your hand, “I’m sorry. I love you too but it was the only way, they would hurt you. And I can’t imagine myself being the reason for your pain” your eyes getting moisty. 

“How about you, weren’t you already in pain?” his eyes just looking at you, you two didn’t care about the location you're in, because in this moment you and Cedric only mattered. 

"I can manage" you smiled despite both of your tears flowing down, "Liar" he pulled you and buried your head on his chest. Your hearts beating in sync, you didn't know if this was the right thing to do. But if you choose to be happy, if you choose the choices your parents made, then maybe, you can die without any regrets, you can die happily, knowing that you lived your life. 

"Let's not do that anymore hmm?" Cedric strokes your hair while you just stand there, feeling and smelling him. He was so addicting.

Your nod was the answer. 

Maybe you can save your brother and yourself at the same time. Maybe there's still a future, a bright one, waiting for you. Not just sacrifices, heartbreak, and death. Don't get lost in the dark they say, but the dark was your friend, and it won't let you get lost. 

[javier-djarin]

Feels Like Yesterday: Chapter 2

Ship: Frankie Morales x Elena Bohannon (OC)

Rating: M

Word Count:  5,276 Words

Warnings: Language

Masterlist

(Gif by @little-ms-fandom​)

Summary: Elena comes into town for her brother’s wedding, knowing exactly who is waiting for her when she lands. Her home town is full of memories she and Frankie shared together, and it’s hard to forget all the good times. 

A/N: I’ve really enjoyed writing this fic so far, so I hope you like this part! As always, translations for any Spanish phrases will be at the bottom. Please let me know what you think and if you want to be in my tag list!!

“The sun so radiant, he burns so bright. The moon so luminous, but only showed her face during the night. She was untouchable, surrounding herself with a blanket of darkness.”

Elena boarded the plane alone Monday morning. “The office called this morning,” Liam said as they were packing the last few things. “I’ll take the first flight out tonight or tomorrow.”

“The engagement party is on Thursday. Just make sure you make it then,” she said, kissing his cheek. She didn’t look at him as she placed her toiletry bag in her suitcase. 

“Hey, ‘Lena,” he said, lightly grabbing her chin, “I’m not angry about last night. Frankie just brings out the worst in us.”

She shook her head and tried to stop the few tears from spilling over. “He brings out the worst in you, Liam. I just want to make sure that you’re actually going to work and you’re not bailing on me because of him.”

He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. “I swear I’m not bailing on you. Besides, do you think I want you down there alone with him?”

Elena tried to laugh, but she couldn’t force it. She knew he was right. There was no way he’d let Frankie anywhere near her. So, now, here she was, doing just that. Boarding a plane to go home, alone. She prayed to God that Frankie was preoccupied somewhere, but she knew Santi. He had something up his sleeve for bringing him home. The people around her slept peacefully, but the entire time they were in the air, her mind raced. The anxiety of running into Frankie after ten years made her sick to her stomach. She had no idea what she was going to say to him, once she inevitably ran into him. Elena wanted to focus on the emotions that were at the forefront: Anger, Hurt, Pain. But, in the deepest part of her soul, excitement reigned. She longed to see him again, talk to him, hold him in her arms. He had robbed her of that opportunity when he wrote her a letter and never returned. Tears fell down her cheeks as she held that exact letter in her hands, running her thumb over the envelope. The woman next to her looked at her and smiled. She has to think I am insane. She thought to herself. 

She folded the letter and placed it back in her wallet, leaning back to try to sleep. It was a restless sleep, because all she could dream about was her Sol:

The second David’s car stopped outside their house, Elena ran in, straight to her room. In true dramatic fashion, she threw herself on her bed, burying her face in her pillows and sobbed; sobbing until there was nothing left to sob about. Johnny, her first serious boyfriend, broke up with her. They were supposed to go to homecoming together, but after his summer away, he’d met someone new. 

He’d pulled her aside after school to tell her he thought they would be better off as friends. Naturally, she did her best to hold it all together, because she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her break down. He turned and left her standing there to absorb the pain alone. She walked to David’s car and slid into the passenger seat, not saying a word to him on their drive home. Now, she was here in her bed, wishing this day had never happened. 

There was a soft knock at her door. “Go away, Mama. I don’t want to talk about it,” she said without looking.

The door slowly creaked open. “Mama sent me up to check on you,” he said.

She wiped her eyes and looked over her shoulder. It was Frankie. He was standing in her doorway with two bottles of Coca-Cola, a bowl of popcorn, and a VHS box in his hand. She couldn’t help but smile at him, standing helplessly in the door. “Movie night?” he sheepishly asked.

“It’s a Tuesday,” she said, wiping her eyes again.

Frankie shrugged and sat on the floor in front of her bed. “So?”

She rolled over so her head was just next to his at the foot of her bed. “What did you grab?” she sniffled.

He handed her the VHS box he’d grabbed from downstairs. “I figured tonight would be a great night to watch our favorite,” he smiled at her. 

“You mean my favorite,” she laughed. He’d always found a way to make her laugh. Her Sol, lighting up her world in her darkest hours. 

“I never said I didn’t like Casablanca. I just prefer other movies.” Frankie reached for the tape and popped it into the player. She sat up and leaned against her headboard, making room for him to sit by her. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close, while she shoveled handfuls of popcorn into her mouth and sipped on her Coke. “How can you hear the movie over your chewing?” he laughed.

She lightly elbowed him in the ribs. “I’ve seen it enough that I don’t need to hear it, mi Sol.”

Elena snuggled against him, feeling safer and more secure than she had in a long time. She had always known how she’d felt about Frankie, but she was so unsure about his feelings towards her. One minute, he’d treat her like she was his world, and the next he’d be with Marilyn. However, it was moments like these that she would cherish. No matter how far apart they drifted, their bond -  friendship - was something that she knew they’d never lose. 

“Everything she knew or ever became was because of him. And she looked up to him and worshiped him... with a feeling she supposed was love,” Ilsa said to Rick in the movie.

She sheepishly looked up at Frankie, who was too engrossed in the movie to notice. She was in love with Frankie, and each second he held her like this, she would snuggle closer to him. 

The plane’s wheels touched down, forcing her awake. She felt tears still on her cheeks as she wiped them away. After waiting for the aisle to clear, she grabbed her carry on bag from the overhead bin and made her way off the plane. David and María were both waiting in baggage claim. She gave them a big smile and ran into their arms the moment she saw them. “Where’s Liam?” María asked.

“Work called at the last minute. He said he’ll definitely make it down for the engagement party on Thursday, and your camp out before the big day!” she replied.

“It’s going to be a blast,” he smiled, “it’s nice that the whole gang will be back together.”

She felt a twinge in her chest, knowing what he meant. If only David knew how much it pained her to know Frankie was back. “I heard Santi invited his whole squad,” she tried to laugh.

María nodded and grinned. “David extended them the invitation. So, they all made it down.”

Elena picked up her bags and followed them out to the car. “So,” she continued the conversation, “how’s the bride to be?”

David groaned. “She’s so stressed.”

María elbowed their brother. “Carla has every right to be stressed. Do you remember my wedding? The tuxedo incident?”

Elena laughed at the memory. The wedding was delayed a full hour while the tailor had to come to the venue with a new suit for the groom. “We honestly all thought he bolted,” she laughed.

Her sister glared at her and then smiled, running a hand across her stomach. “Well, he’s stuck now,” she replied.

Elena squealed in the car, causing David to flinch. “I’m going to be an aunt? Oh! I am so excited!”

“Which means you’ll need to be back down here in a few months. You’re going to be the godmother.”

She danced in her seat with happiness, completely forgetting about the anxiety ridden week ahead of her. “How far along are you?”

“I’m at the end of my first trimester. So figure your shit out up in NYC and come home.”

David sighed. “How are things up in The Big Apple?”

“Great! The restaurant has been doing wonderful,” she replied, “I found some new investors so I could finally repair the rooftop and get that ready for outdoor dining.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Thanks, David. If that goes well, I might have enough to open a second across town.”

“What will this one be called?” he laughed.

“Luna’s.”

María turned around to face her with a suspicious eyebrow raised. “So you’ll own two restaurants named Sol’s and Luna’s?”

Suddenly, the anxiety she’d forgotten about hit her again. “I don’t want to hear it, María.”

“You do know he’s back in town, right?” she said.

“I said, I don’t want to hear it.”

She turned back around and adjusted her seatbelt. “Santi called us last night to tell us.”

Elena felt her blood boil. “Santi can fuck off,” she replied, crossing her arms, “he knew better than to do this.”

“I asked him to,” David added.

She froze and stared at the back of her brother’s head, sending mental darts into him. “You did what?”

He sighed. “He’s my friend, too, ‘Lena. I miss him. So, for whatever reason you hate him, please just put it aside for this week. Get along for my wedding, and then you can go back to hating him as usual.”

Elena tried to feign a smile at him as she nodded her head to agree with her brother’s terms. “Fine.”

“What happened between you two?” María asked.

She ignored her sister and looked out the window, not wanting to air all of her dirty laundry out in front of her family.

***

Frankie woke up at the crack of dawn, just like he always did. Old Army Habit. He walked downstairs to fix himself some coffee when he saw Pope sneaking in through the backdoor. He looked at the clock on the stove and back to his best friend. “Are you sneaking back into your own house?” he asked, causing him to jump.

“What the fuck are you doing up?”

He held up his coffee mug as an obvious sign before taking a nice long sip. “Damn good, too,” he grinned, “Colombian?”

“Fuck you, Frankie.”

“Seriously, man,” he said, sitting down at his counter, “why are you sneaking in?”

Santi sighed and poured his own cup. “It’s been a long night. Do I really need to do this now?”

Frankie smiled at him and waited for his explanation. “We’re best friends. We don’t hide stuff from each other.”

“Fine.” Santi said, taking a sip of his coffee. “That girl I was on the phone with, on the boat? Yeah, well I just went over to visit last night, and we lost track of the time.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You literally snuck out last night to get laid? We didn’t go to bed until almost one.”

Santi shrugged. “Yeah, so? She doesn’t live far from here.”

He watched Frankie do the math in his head, slowly remembering who lived in the area. This subdivision specifically. He remembered in passing that Santiago said various people they grew up with had bought houses around him. Marilyn, Catherine, and… “Oh my God,” he grinned. 

“It’s not who you think,” Santi said, almost too fast, “so don’t even start guessing.”

“You and Rae?” Frankie started laughing.

Santi grinned and looked at his cup, swirling it as if he was trying to “mix” it. 

“How long?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Santi lied.

“Santi, man, how long?”

He pretended to frown and rolled his eyes as if he was pondering the question before saying too fast. “Senior year.”

Frankie’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“It’s nothing serious. Just sorta an on again, off again thing. Neither of us want anything more than that, really. Especially since I’m always gone, down south.”

He shook his head and took another drink of coffee. “I never would have pegged either of you doing this in a million years.”

Santiago looked at him with a heartfelt smile. “Is it because we all were focused on you and Elena?”

Suddenly, Frankie’s demeanor changed. His muscles went stiff and he stared straight ahead through the window over the kitchen sink. “Come on, Pope. We were just having a good time. Why did you have to bring that up?”

He grabbed both of their mugs and set them in the sink before facing Frankie again. “Because, Cat, her plane lands in a few hours and you need to figure your shit out.”

He sighed and ran his hair through his bed head. “You said she’s happy with a boyfriend in New York. I’m not going to ruin that for her.”

“Frankie,” Pope said, leaning against the counter, “She’ll never actually be happy until you talk to her. You left her a letter and then abandoned her. She still walks around the house and looks at pictures of the two of you with tears in her eyes.”

“She does?” He asked, almost hopeful.

“Well, sorta. She puts them face down when she sees them,” he said as he watched Frankie deflate a little, “but that means she still is hurting. Which means she still has those feelings.”

Frankie shook his head. “I don’t even know what to say to her.”

“Start with an apology.”

“She’s going to want an explanation, and I can’t give her that,” he said, standing up.

They both heard the TV turn on, which meant someone was in the living room. Frankie froze when he heard an all too familiar voice come from the television:

“Play it once, Sam, for old time’s sake,” Ilsa said.

“I don’t know what you mean Miss Ilsa,” he replied.

“Play it, Sam. Play ‘As Time Goes By’.”

Frankie wandered into the living room that was now empty. He saw the light on, underneath the door of the half bath adjacent to the room, and so he continued to watch. Sam started to play their song, and Ilsa hummed along, matching every note perfectly. Frankie could feel his heart ache as he watched her favorite scene. “It’s so romantic the way he looks at her for the first time in years.” She had said to him. “The look on both of their faces displays so many emotions that you can almost feel the pain and love.”  It was such a perfect and heart wrenching scene to watch:

The door to the gambling room opens. Rick comes swinging out. He’s heard the music and he’s livid. Sam continues singing. Rick briskly walks up to the piano, “Sam, I thought I told you never to play…” As he sees Ilsa he stops short. Sam stops playing. Two close-ups reveal Ilsa and Rick seeing each other. Rick appears shocked. For a long moment he just looks at her.

He heard the toilet flush and the sink run, pulling him away from the TV as Will stepped out into the living room. “Are you seriously watching this shit?” he laughed.

Frankie shrugged. “It’s a good movie, if you watch it all the way through.”

Will shook his head. “I have. Hate the ending.”

“He just loves her enough to let her go,” he said, feeling that same tug on his heart strings, “to help her stay safe.”

Pope walked into the living room. “You say that now,” he said, slapping him on the back, “I know a little about women, my friend. She went, but she knew you were lying.”

Frankie shook her head. “How many times have you watched this movie to quote Renault?”

He laughed and started walking upstairs. “Tell your Luna thanks for that.”

***

Elena unpacked her bags in the guest house on her family’s ranch and walked back up to the main house. Her mother, Gloria, was busy starting her usual five course meal, making the house smell like her childhood. She closed her eyes and let the aroma take her back to the time she was much younger. Her father was still alive, and he’d run in behind her, scooping her up in his arms, tickling her as he brought her into the dining room. Frankie was always close behind him. He looked up to Elliott so much, and she remembered how much it destroyed him when he died shortly after they took Frankie in. Elena wished that she could go back to those simpler times before everything turned to shit.

“‘Lena, ¿Eres tu?” she heard her mother ask. 

“Sí, Mama. Huele delicioso aquí.”

“Gracias, mi amor,” she said, not turning to look as she stirred something on the stove. “How was your flight?”

Elena took a deep breath and sat down at the table. “Long.”

“Where’s Liam?” she said, wiping her hands on the rag on her shoulder before pouring her a glass of tea. 

“He had to work,” she replied, “he said he’ll be down before Thursday.”

Gloria sighed. “Work?”

Elena nodded and looked into her glass of tea.

“It’s always work with him,” she said, looking over her glasses at her daughter. She stared at her with the same look she’d see in the mirror occasionally.  The only exception was the eyes. Gloria had dark, chocolate brown eyes. Whereas, Elena’s father had beautiful emerald green eyes that he’d graciously passed on to her. “Is he ever going to come down here for the entire vacation without having to work?”

She shrugged. “At least he was able to get off for the wedding,” Elena replied.

“When are you going to stop making excuses for him?” Gloria said. She felt her pulse pick up. This was a normal discussion she and her mother frequently had about Liam. “I’m not, Mama. He’s an executive for a major publishing company. Life in New York is different from life here. I don’t want to have to defend him from you every time I visit!”

Her mother let out a long breath and grabbed her own glass of tea for a drink before returning to the pot on the stove. “I’m sorry, mija. I just want you to be happy with someone who loves you more than their job.”

“I am, Mama. He does love me more than his job. But taking a week off when you work for other people, is a lot to ask of someone. I’m fortunate enough to have an amazing general manager that can keep my restaurant from burning down while I’m gone.”

“When was the last time he took you somewhere and didn’t have to report into work while you were away?” She asked, stirring the pot some more before adding a little salt. 

Elena didn’t want to think back over the countless vacations they’d taken, because she knew that she’d come up with an answer her mother wanted. Instead, she stood. “Tell Antonio I said hi,” she said, “I’m meeting Rae for lunch.”

“Dinner is at six,” Gloria said with her back turned to her.

***

Rae was sitting at their usual table in the local diner waiting for Elena when her phone rang. “Hello,” she said, without looking at the caller ID.

“Is she on her way?” Santi asked.

She pretended to glare at him as if he were right in front of her. “Santi, do not come to the diner. Let her at least destress before you turn her world upside down.”

“Pope, who the fuck you talkin’ to?” she heard someone yell in the background.

“Probably one of his ‘informants’.”

She raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Are you bringing the entire crew?”

“It was the only way to get Frankie to come. I think he knows I am up to something.”

“Because you are, Santi,” she sighed.

She heard him tell Benny to fuck off before returning to their conversation. “Oh, and Frankie knows I was at your house last night.”

Rae ran her hand down her face. “Great.” She looked up and saw Elena walk in. “Gotta go, ‘Lena’s here.”

Elena immediately saw Rae and headed for her table. Rae stood up and wrapped her in a big hug before they took their seats opposite each other. “So,” Rae said, “Do we just want to talk about it now, or wait until we’ve had our food and you sit there and freak out to yourself in silence for a little while?”

She glared at her. “I guess you just get right to the point,” she said, “I’ve honestly made peace with this week.”

“Sure you have,” Rae said, not believing her.

“I have,” Elena continued, “It’s going to happen whether I want it to or not. Besides, David made me promise to put my feelings aside this week and get along with him for the wedding. So, if I run into him, I have to play nice.”

Rae laughed a little and sipped on her coffee. “We both know that’s all a huge lie,” she said.

She ran her fingers through her hair and let out a low groan. “I’ve decided to just not bring it up,” she replied, “it’s been ten years. Liam and I are together now; I’m finally happy. What good will it do to bring up what happened?”

“You’re right,” Rae agreed, “what good would that do? I mean the only reason you’d bring up something like that, something that has been eating away at you for over ten years, is if you still had feelings for him.”

Elena looked up from her cup of coffee and glared again. “I don’t have feelings for him.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

“I mean, we aren’t even the same people we were ten years ago. How could I still have feelings for someone I don’t even know anymore?”

Rae smiled at her over her mug. “Because you know he hasn’t changed at all.”

The door opened and a group of rowdy men entered the establishment. “Elena!” she heard someone exclaim.

She turned and looked to the door and saw Will and Santi before turning to look back at Rae. “What have you done?” she asked.

Rae shook her head. “This was all your brother. I told Santi no, but he doesn’t listen to me.”

Elena was happy to see Will again. Thanks to Santi always bringing them around, she’d grown rather close with his crew. Maybe he’d be able to keep her distracted and away from Frankie. She looked behind him and didn’t see any sign of him, allowing her to breathe a sigh of relief. She stood up and waited for her usual bear hugs from the guys.

Frankie saw her before he walked into the diner. She was standing there with her arms spread wide, obviously waiting for a hug from Santiago. He stopped in his tracks when he looked at her. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. “Cat,” Tom said to him, “what’s wrong?”

“I - I can’t do this,” he said, suddenly being hit with every emotion he’s ever felt for her.

“Do what?”

Frankie saw in the window that Pope was watching him, and he knew he’d come after him if he tried to bolt. This was bound to happen, and honestly, he did want to see her again. He wanted to talk to her, hug her, hear her laugh. But he was afraid of facing the mistake he had made ten years ago. His heart raced and he felt the color leave his face the closer he walked to the door, until finally he was inside the diner. Frozen in place as their eyes met. His heart stopped and he couldn’t breathe. It was just like her favorite scene. He was sure he looked just like Rick with the pain and love all over his face when he saw Ilsa for the first time. Except on her face was nothing but pain; pain he’d caused by being a jackass. He saw Will beeline for her as he wrapped his arms around her and spun her. Jealousy instantly replaced every emotion he felt. She was his Luna. What the fuck did she mean to Will for him to hold her so intimately?

Elena tried to ignore the fact that Frankie was standing in the same room as her as Will wrapped his arms around her for a big hug. Honestly, she loved it. Especially when she saw a familiar look return to Frankie’s face. Her eyes lit up and she laughed as Will kissed her cheek. “It’s about time you make it back down here,” he said.

“Restaurant’s been keeping me so busy, I hardly have time for a day off,” she laughed.

She saw out of the corner of her eye that Frankie was finally moving closer. “Well, you look good. Like real good. You still with that fella of yours?”

She felt her heart race when Frankie was close enough to hear. “Yeah,” she said nervously.

“Damn,” Will said, “I was hoping I’d have a date for David’s wedding.” He winked at her, and she saw Frankie behind him tense up. 

Elena continued to ignore him as she put all of her attention on the other guys. Benny was up next, wrapping her in a hug. “It’s good to see you,” he said, “We’ve missed you, and your cooking.”

She laughed. “I guess you’ll have to stop by this week for a nice Texas style breakfast.”

Benny winked at her. “I wish I could wake up to that every morning.”

“Take a number, Benny,” Will laughed, shoving his brother.

She shook her head and smiled at them. She walked past Frankie without so much as a look at him while she hugged Tom. “Pope didn’t say we’d be meeting two beautiful ladies for lunch,” he grinned.

Elena rolled her eyes at him. “Ever the gentleman,” she said.

She looked over at Santi, thankful the others couldn’t see the death glare she was giving him as she wrapped her arms around him - a little too tight. “Fuck you, Santi,” she whispered.

He smiled as he hugged her, looking at a distraught Frankie. “Glad to see you too, sis.”

She let go of him, and turned away. But not before giving him another glare. Frankie was the last one, and he attempted at a smile for her. Elena felt her heart race, feeling herself start to forgive him, but she stopped. All she did was nod at him. “Frankie,” she said, before sliding in the booth.

It was actually nicer than what he’d expected from her. So, he returned the gesture and muttered, “Luna.”

Her eyes shot up at him, almost offended that he’d used her nickname. Will looked between the two of them as he slid into the booth next to her, finally putting it all together. He looked back at Santiago who just nodded to confirm what he heard. Rae let Frankie slide in across from her as Benny, Tom, and Santi grabbed a table to put up next to theirs. Will, so as to not give away he knew what was happening between Frankie and Elena, opted to act like everything was normal. He threw his arm around her shoulders and hugged her again. “So, where is the lucky bastard?” he asked.

That seemed to bring her out of her daze and she looked at Will. “He had to work, but don’t worry,” she said without looking at Frankie, “he’ll be here in time for everything. He said he was going to catch the first flight out tomorrow.”

Santiago smiled at Rae when he heard that Liam was not here. He leaned closer to her and whispered. “Even better.”

She elbowed him in the side to shut him up. 

“Luna,” Frankie said, trying to get her attention, but she wanted nothing to do with him. His heart ached even more as he watched her give Will her undivided attention. He was ready to reach across the table and punch Will in the face for ever thinking about touching his Luna, for captivating her attention so well that she didn’t even realize he was sitting right in front of her.

Rae leaned over to Frankie and whispered, “It’s good to see you, Frankie.”

He smiled at her and gave her a side hug. She looked at the sadness in his eyes and it pained her to see one of her dearest friends suffering the way he was. Santi was right: he was a miserable fuck. But she knew her best friend. Elena was too stubborn for her own good, and if she wanted to ignore Frankie, she was going to do exactly that.

“It’s nice to see someone take care of Pope while he’s back home,” he whispered back.

She laughed and shook her head. “I’m thrilled you know.”

He saw Elena sneak a glance at him through the corner of his eye, and he immediately turned his attention back to her. But she’d gone back to looking at Will. “Luna,” he said again, but she continued to ignore him, forcing him to listen to her and Will’s flirty conversation.

“He always is working,” Will complained.

She sighed and nodded. “I know, but I made him promise to leave the work at home before he comes down.”

Benny leaned over and smiled at her. “So, whenever you get sick of it, does that mean I can move into your fancy apartment so I can wake up to your cooking everyday?”

Elena laughed at him. “I thought Will said to take a number,” she replied with a wink.

Santiago leaned in, trying to help Frankie out. “Alright, fellas, leave her alone. I’m tired of always watching you harass mi hermana.”

Will laughed and rolled his eyes before leaning down to whisper something in her ear that only she could hear. Frankie felt jealousy rise in him as he watched her blush and then smile. He glared at him, hard - sending daggers straight through someone he would gladly die for on the battlefield.

The conversation turned to the other end of the table as everyone caught up. He’d missed so much, including his squad growing close with his childhood gang. She was only listening to the conversation, and now was as good of a time as any to get her attention. Frankie longed to reach out and touch her hand, but he knew that would just cause a scene if he did. So, he figured third time’s a charm. “Luna,” he said a little louder, but not loud enough to disrupt the conversation.

She finally turned and looked at him, hurt and pain overflowing in her eyes. “What?” she curtly replied.

Rae was the only one paying attention to them. 

“It’s…uh,” he trailed off, trying to find the right words.  “It’s good to see you,” he said softly.

She huffed at him and finally turned completely to face him. “I wish I could say the same,” she replied.

Rae gave her a scolding look and mouthed “play nice” to her, but she ignored her. 

“I’m sorry, mi Luna,” his voice cracking a little.

Elena felt her chest tighten and she looked out the window. She was afraid that if she continued looking at him that the flood gates would burst.

“I wish I could tell you how sorry I really am.”

Her head snapped back and she glared at him. “Just write it in a letter and then leave,” she said, “you’re good at that.” She motioned for Will and Benny to move so she could scoot out of the booth as she briskly made her way to the restroom.

Translations

¿Eres tu? - Is that you?

Sí, Mama. Huele delicioso aquí. - Yes, Mama. It smells delicious in here.

Tag List

@magneticbucky @wickedfrsgrl @wander-lustbabe @pedropascalownsmyheart @frietiemeloen @larakasser

[heechulhamster]

Deception I - Do Kyungsoo

Do Kyungsoo x Reader

Playing the part of a high-end prostitute to the country’s biggest mafia leader was no easy task. Specially when you do it as an undercover intelligence agent working for the government. And even harder when his keen-eyed assassin has his eyes set on exposing your lies.

Mafia!AU, Spy!AU, Angst, Mature Themes and Language

Prologue - I

CHAPTER I

Lavender, rose, sandalwood - you doused the bath of all scents within your reach. The amount of aroma and bubbles already overwhelmed the whole room, possibly even up to the hallways. Yet it still wasn’t enough. No amount of soap nor bath bombs would make your senses forget how he smelled. Nothing at this moment could make you feel clean from his touches.

You grabbed the loofah and started scrubbing your skin again. It’s probably chaffed now at the amount of stress and force it faced yet you still kept cleansing. Desperate to get his presence on your body away and forgotten.

At this point, tears don’t flow out your eyes anymore. The prolonged experience had made you immune to most human emotions. It was a matter of desperation, a manifestation of how lethargic you’ve become to your current situation. This wasn’t the job you dreamt of, nor the one you signed up for - but then you remember that your job entailed and encompassed so many things that you couldn’t even draw the lines yourself.

Every touch of his skin on yours was like acid that burned and stung. His lips that unabashedly shed kisses on your body was uninvited and numbed you down even more. You can’t help but remember what a vile person he is - how many lives died due to his greed, the women that he made feel like objects, the children that work under him and their futures that he ruined. It’s as if all your senses just deter his presence and you want to push him away. But you remember that what you’re doing is for them, the lives that was lost, the women that were disrespected, and the future of those who work for him. You’re doing this to help take down this vicious empire that Mr. Jung built for his satisfaction.

It’s been six months since you received the assignment, a case file consisting of a whole binder. The operation has been on for months, yet they’re opting for a new approach. They realized that it would be easier to take down a man like Jung Sungki if he’s distracted. And that was your primary role, an aberration in attempt to make him have a blind spot. Another was extracting information from the man.

It’s been five months since you’ve posed as a high-end courtesan in one of his favorite nightclubs, altering your overall appearance by the way you dress, talk and act. Everything went according to plan when he paid a huge sum of money to get you home, act like his trophy girl, and own you. And since then you’ve leeched so many information and intel, luckily the Sungki just couldn’t get his mouth shut when he’s intoxicated. And he’s intoxicated most of the time.

Others would envy you for the life that you currently have. You didn’t even have to ask for the designer bags and couture clothing that he gives you, but it's not what you really want. Knowing very well where his money comes from, you would rather not have him spend it on you. But that’s what she craved, that’s what Ashley wants - and Ashley was who you are to him.

Ashley is the woman who dreamt of lying down in a bed full of cash, who craves having red bottom stilettos on her feet and designer dresses hugging her body. And she would do everything just to get that, even including being the toy of the country’s most wanted criminal. And ever since you accepted the assignment that the government gave you, you’re Ashley and you’re owned by Mr. Jung.

So you stood up from the bath when you realized that the filth is just in your mind. That no amount of scrubbing nor soap will cleanse you. Because the more that you play the role of Ashley, the more that you’re disgusted with yourself. And this operation seems nowhere near done, just yet.

Your sleep was the only sanctuary you had from all the horror your life was right now. It was only there where you could be yourself, where you could separate Ashley from your existence. There you could reminisce the memories of your life, your old one that is. The childhood that reminded you of innocence, one that was now far lost. The youthful smile was now exchanged with a mask, a face full of deceit. And the hands that used to be occupied by kaleidoscopic dolls and toy kitchenware now yields a handheld, recoilless gun. Your family and friends in your hometown that used to be of constant presence but now seem to be so far-off from your contact. Yet all these memories are vivid and alive in your dreams. In your sleep, your mind holds these mementos close and tight before the various existences and roles you play wipe them off the face of the Earth.

If only you knew what you got yourself into when you were eighteen - a promising college student who aced most of her subjects. You don’t even know how they found you. How one unassuming day after the meeting of the debate team, you were excused by your principal and a man clad in business attire. You have no idea how he knew your background, your former excellence at archery. All you know is you’re far too intimidated by the way he said that your country needs you. And the next thing you knew, you’re dropped off at a training facility with a luggage full of your belongings. The subsequent years filled with training of various sorts, how to shoot a gun and be exceptional at doing so, how to manipulate people, and the gruelling practice on raising your pain tolerance.

Now, you’re five years in the said job - calloused and desensitized by all the operations you had to encounter. The two years of training barely left a human soul in your system. You lost yourself to being an undercover teacher in a school that apparently was a marketplace for child trafficking, a secretary of an unlawful businessman, among others that made you lose yourself. You’ve been called Glenda, Therese, all other names that almost deleted any memory of your own - and now you’re Ashley.

Today, you’re supposed to go to the mall. You’ve already asked Sungki for his black credit card, which it only took a few teasing and touches before he so willingly gave. But you’re not actually up for an episode of reckless shopping that will leave his bank broken. It’s the third Wednesday of the month, which means you needed to send back an intel report to the government. Usually done by a clandestine meeting when you’re let outside the walls of the mansion, with a neatly folded thin piece of paper riddled with ciphers that they need to decode.

Today you held a pen where you lodged a recent receipt of names and the amount of drugs that they bought that you sneaked out of a folder. These people who surrounded you were dumb enough to print an evidence of their transactions in black and white, and you were sly enough to retrieve it discreetly. Today will be an easy transfer of intel.

Or so you thought.

“Out to exploit Mr. Jung once more, I see.” The man sat beside you in the black bulletproof SUV suddenly spoke in his trademark flatly disapproving tone which you chose to disregard.

“You see, it makes me curious how shallow your conscience is. To just deliberately leech off money from someone without any remorse.” He continued.

You would’ve just disregarded him, but then you remember who you’re supposed to be. How would Ashley react to this obnoxious man sat beside her? Ashley is feisty, upfront, perverse and rebellious. So you decided to form some sort of rebuttal.

“You know what? Why don’t you just mind your own business and fuck off?” You said in an irritated tone which earned a scoff from D.O.

“Well, to my utmost dismay, you’re my business today.” D.O. spoke in a disinterested tone. “I don’t know why I’m even sent with you in this pointless and vain shopping spree of yours.”

“Why does it have to be you? Where’s Yunhyeong?” You asked him. Yunhyeong is one of Mr. Jung’s men that are usually assigned to you. You like him a whole better than D.O. who’s nosy and inquisitive, Yunhyeong mostly doesn’t even mind what you do and you easily sneak away from him.

“He took a day off.” D.O. simply answered as he looks outside the car, towards the road as he drives between trees that lined the mountains. Mr. Jung’s mansion was obscure and far away from the cities, as it is his prime locations for his transactions. This just makes it harder for you to move around freely.

You were almost thankful for the silence that enveloped the both of you in the car until he spoke again, “I always hear you going out for shopping yet I only see you with what Mr. Jung gives you. What do you hide in these shopping trips, Ashley?”

Here was he again with his inquisition. D.O. is a keen observer, he always points out the suspicious things you do around. Like a crow intensely sleuthing on its prey, waiting for its signs of weakness and its death. But now he’s far more aggressive in imposing his belief that you’re not just a prostitute taken in by Mr. Jung’s lustful acts. The past few days flooded by his snide remarks on who he things you are, now a tiger ready to pounce on your flaws. D.O., which you’re sure is not is real name as most of the people that surround you don’t use theirs, have been working for Mr. Jung for the past 6 years. He slowly rose from being a mere hitman to being one of his most trusted people, some might even consider him Sungki’s right hand.

“I prefer those days when I knew you to be quiet and apathetic, nowadays you just can’t keep your mouth shut.” You answered with all your might, and that was enough to silence him for the rest of the ride.

Usually, Yunhyeong was never attentive to what you do. You could pull off any trick up your sleeve during your trips and still he wouldn’t give two fucks about you. That’s why you liked him when he accompanies you, his impassive nature just lets you slide a note - sometimes even files to Jane. But today you face an extra challenge on keeping any action undetected in D.O.’s radar.

On days like this, Jane usually poses as a store attendant in one of the lavish fashion houses in this luxurious mall. Dressed for the part with her business blazer with interlocking C’s, bearing the expensive logo of the said brand the government was able to slide her in. You would simply give her the report, or whatever intel you had on hand. Maybe on the counter, or sometimes even as you pretend to skim and search around the store. But you know that wouldn’t work today, for D.O.’s eyes are that of an eagle’s.

“Good morning, Ashley! It’s nice to see you again today.” Jane welcomed you in her professional tone, playing her part in this charade. To which you responded by a gleeful tone before you started to explore the vastness of the store.

The real you wouldn’t bother spending hundreds of thousands just for a luxury bag with at obnoxiously placed logo. The mere thought of spending Sungki’s money, that of which was obtained in expense of the blood and life of other people, for a handbag that you wouldn’t even find use of disgusts you. But it’s an action that needs to be done if you really want to see the demise of this despicable man. So you continued on looking around, from the splendid one of a kind tweed jackets to the renowned leather purses.

“Is this new?” You acted happy and amazed as you loosely inspected a beige jacket, looking Jane in the eye.

“Fresh off the runway from the most recent collection Ma’am.” She said with a smile.

“Can I try it on my size, please?” You said as you scratched your left ear with your right hand, a sign for her that you two are being watched and she needs to take you in a safer place before giving the intel. She nodded and headed off not before instructing you to follow her.

The pen was safely tucked on the insides of your dress, and you’ve already devised a plan in your mind on how you will give it to Jane. She led you to a secluded fitting room with a lounge inside, D.O. almost followed you but he was warned that no male patrons are allowed inside. Sighing a breath of relief, Jane still proceeds on the act - a protocol you both follow just in case any bugs or recorders have been strapped on you.

You entered the fitting room after she gives you the right size of the jacket you just asked. It was there where you took off the dress you were wearing. You found the pen that you have lightly sewn on the sides of the garment, and with the pointed end of your earring you aptly cut the threads, eventually freeing the pen. Placing the pen on the corner of the fitting room, the side that can be quickly seen by Jane, you wore your clothes again. But to further the efficacy of your disguise, you still fitted the jacket and went outside of the fitting room.

“D.O., what do you think?” You asked him as he sat on one of the lavish cushions of the store. He just shrugged in apathy, and you’re relieved that it meant that he’s not being curious about anything you’ve done in the fitting room.

“Aww, you’re speechless. I think I’ll take this.” Turning to Jane, who now has the silver pen lodged in her breast pocket. You just smiled knowingly to each other.

“Ma’am, there’s a new classic bag in stock that would surely go with your tweed jacket. Would you like to give it a check?” Jane suddenly interjected, and you were quick to take cues.

“I absolutely would!” And she led you to a black quilted bag, which you pretended to inspect and ponder on buying. But it ended up on your shopping list along with the expensive jacket. Jane wouldn’t lead you on buying this if there’s no particular reason behind it.

The sound of Sungki’s credit card being used and abused just revolted your senses. You wish there was a way that you’re not using his ill-gotten wealth in the guises of pleasure, but this was the role that you’re supposed to play in this dangerous chess game.

You’re thankful that D.O. was back into his unassuming and disinterested self on your way home. His disparaging remarks and accusations replaced by silence and judging looks that you could easily pay no attention to. Because you found it extremely challenging to come up with smart clapbacks to the words he throws at you. And you’ve been trained to turn off your emotions and be logical over the flick of a button, but D.O. is highly intimidating. With his big downturned eyes that change from apathetic to dark and malevolent in a snap, you always find yourself intimidated in his remarks. What usually takes you a fraction of a second to respond leaves you silent for almost a minute, scrambling to find a rebuttal as smart as his accusations. And if there was someone who could affect your mission, it surely was him.

He used to be nothing but apathetic towards you. Your first month barely even marred by glances from his pair of notorious, unforgiving eyes. You’re not even able to remember a single instance that he talked to you or paid attention to your existence. The ever concentrated, meticulous, assassin-turned-associate, clad in his usual black dress shirt and coat, most probably always carrying a trusty gun or two underneath. A lack of attention that you reciprocated as you focused on leaching out information from Mr. Jung. His personality and being unfamiliar and vague to you because D.O. didn’t have a profile on the case file.

A whole month of preparation before you infiltrated Jung Sungki’s favorite bar, you immersed yourself in watching stolen footages of his ring. Reading the prepared profiles and summaries on what to expect and how to handle people that will soon surround you. How the intelligence agency got hand of such information was something you weren’t sure of. But amongst the twenty assassins, wingmen, and other associates - D.O. was someone the agency wasn’t aware of. And his sudden unexpected presence combined with his unforeseeable actions was enough to crack your hard shell and knock some sense of agitation in your veins.

The turbulence with him started when he gave you an unwelcoming look when you sat on Sungki’s lap during one of their meetings. It was common for him to ask his women to be with him at all times, so it was unclear to you why D.O. gave such a judgemental look when you were there. But you tried to be unfazed and remember as many details from the conversation and transactions transpiring in front of you.

Since then, snide remarks have been thrown left and right from his mouth. Making you feel unwanted and unwelcome, but you didn’t train two years to back down from mere talk. You took it as a reminder that eyes are all around you and whatever step you take, you need to think twice and plan thrice.

The moment you arrive back on your room, the black boxes of new exorbitant articles of clothing carried by some of Sungki’s men, you hurriedly opened that of the unassuming bag Jane almost forcibly made you buy earlier. Thin white wrapping paper was the first thing you saw when you lifted the cover, which after further inspection contained nothing and you quickly put it away. You opened the bag itself, your fingertips scanning the exquisite leather flaps - to no avail. The last place to look for was the warranty card. You opened the small envelope - and there, just beside the card itself was a thin paperlike material that was no bigger than the size of your thumb.

You pulled it out, revealing a very smooth and clean surface. You hurriedly went to your dresser table and lit a candle, promptly putting the paper near its flames.

“**BB4&”

After reading the message, you quickly set the small material on fire with the light of the candle - eventually turning into white ashes that you just blew away, getting rid of any trace.

The two stars meant an instruction was to be given to you, by agent BB4, and the & meant it was an important reassignment. And you just wonder why you’ll be given such a cryptic notion for a mission that is going relatively well for you.

But then you remember that as all things fade, so does interest. And Jung Sungki is a powerful man enough to change his women weekly. You were lucky enough to stay five whole months, you’ve heard that some only last weeks, some even days. And the momentary nature of his connection to you was a news slapped on your face today.

It was usual for him to go out on clubs, bars, or colleagues and associate’s parties. And ever since you entered his life, you’ve always been the accessory attached to his arms and ornate his lap during such social events. The trophy, the jewel, the diamond that he parades all around his friends and foes in attempt to make them jealous. But today, it looks like the spot you used to secure was occupied by someone else.

You stood mere meters away from the table, watching these despicable and vile men smoke their tobacco and play poker. Watching them laugh on their unwarranted jokes and try to intimidate each other with their display of artillery, men, and women. A bunch of monkeys fooling themselves as allies when they have knives against each other back, ready to betray anyone and everyone for the sake of power and wealth.

An unusual position for you to be among Sungki’s bodyguards, just standing there and watching as his new blonde stunner sat on his lap. Using her golden locks to try and tickle the suit-wearing man she sat on, making him laugh as the repulsive smoke of cigar escaped his mouth.

It’s a loss on your perspective, as you barely hear the transactions carried on by not so silent whispers across the table. You used to have the front seat on whatever deals he has under the table, and you were keen enough to note everything. But today, a new woman replaced your spot. And was a reminder that your spell on him can quickly be lost and never regained, so you need to do your job fast and well.

“Looks like your time here is fast ticking.” You heard a sudden whisper by your right ear, and that voice unmistakably belonging to D.O.

“Shut up.” You tried to fake being affected, as that is what Ashley should feel. But the real you felt a sense of relief if this mission shall be over for you, the constant presence of disgraceful people around you starts to seep in within you like a fresh tomato on a pile of rotten ones.

“I told you, it wouldn’t take long before he finds another girl to fuck. So what on your deck of cards now?” D.O. continued on trying to infuriate you, you know real well what his true intention was - to try and prove that you’re not just a prostitute Sungki randomly picked up from a club.

“I’m going to go back to the club, take all the Chanel and Prada he so graciously bought me and find another man with a heaping bank account. Is that what you want to hear from me?” You whispered back to him.

“Back to your supposed job, I see. But we both know very well that’s not what your real job is, don’t we?” You could feel his rare playful smirk beside your ear even if you don’t look at him directly, the tone of his whisper gives out his amusement in the way you act startled in his words.

“Stop playing your shit, D.O. If this is your way to get me to fuck you now that Sungki is done with me, I don’t come for free, and I don’t come cheap.” You tried to sass him out.

“If I’m going to pay for someone to fuck me, it surely wouldn’t be you.” and his quick reflexes got you stunned as he shifted from your right ear to the other. “Though I have to admit, you’re way more attractive than her.”

And it was one of the rare times that you had to admit that the cat got your tongue.

Three more hours spanned that you just stood there, waiting for whatever transactions were guised as a play of cards. You spent the whole time just forcing a smile on the new men that surrounded you, irritation building up in the back of your mind. Of all times a new girl can take your place, of course it’s the day when Sungki deals with new groups. The room was filled with people that you haven’t seen before, none of the familiar faces of the drug syndicates from Mexico nor the representatives of the Hong Kong triad. You never would’ve said this but at the span of those hours, you wished you were sat on his lap as the woman he knows by the name Ashley - then you would’ve been able to recover intel on who these people he is trading with.

The mere thought of new connections stir up the sense of social justice in your guts. New transactions only mean more chaos, more people suffering for his power, wealth and satisfaction. And you just couldn’t sit nor sleep in the expensive shit he buys you knowing that you barely tried to do your job.

So if things don’t go the way you planned it, there should always be a contingency plan.

The minute hand of the clock just hit the quarter to three in the morning when you discreetly walked your way out of your room. It’s the right time where Sungki’s just fell deep into deep sleep, probably well distracted with the new cocotte in his arms. In this new plan of yours, her presence makes it better as a distraction. As you casually strutted down the carpeted halls of his mansion, you were attentive to any of his men’s presence yet relaxed enough to not draw attention.

And you knew very well who you wish to keep under the radar from, silently hoping that he’s now fast asleep in his room.

It wasn’t like any of his men would accuse you of treachery but D.O., most of them couldn’t even look you in the eye. Like the invincible Medusa among men, they wouldn’t dare to get on your bad side knowing that you’re currently the apple of Sungki’s eyes.

The hallway that you barely roamed was now beneath your feet, his office wasn’t even guarded in the wee hours of the night. Most people wouldn’t assume a threat coming from inside the mansion’s walls. But here you are, trying to lurk at Sungki’s unmanned office at almost three in the morning in an attempt to gain information that you weren’t able to grasp earlier.

Your heart was silently trembling in your chest the moment you closed the doorknob, the dark activating all your other senses. The room was void of any sound of breaths, no sound of footsteps except yours, so you figured it would be safe to turn on the lights.

Blinking in the sudden lighting, your eyes quickly searched for any files that looked like any of those earlier. Sungki was dumb enough to keep a list of the people he interacted with before, it wasn’t far off that it’s a mistake he’d repeat. He’s highly complacent of the people surrounding him, confident that all are sheep on his favor. But you’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing ready to bite the shepherd’s back.

You hurriedly made your way to the desk, scanning over the folders to determine which looked old and which seemed new. Realizing that none of those currently on the top are new, you tried to pull some of the drawers. And the very first drawer you pulled bared an image that triggered some sense into you.

Sungki’s drawer was always the home to his beloved pistol, a Desert Eagle always encased in its black velvet box. But the sight before you was a bare and open black velvet lined box that has an outline of the said gun. There’s something wrong, no one picks up that gun, Mr. Jung seldomly holds a gun with his own hands.

You closed your eyes, letting your senses once more go into overdrive. And it was only then when you heard subtle blows of air behind you, a sound of careful breathing just coming from behind your back.

“Looking for something?” And you swear this was the worst day on your current mission.

Slowly turning your head to your back, D.O.’s unforgiving figure slowly registered in your eyes. His hands behind him as he stood there wearing his trademark stern look.

“I was… I was just looking for money.” You reasoned out almost breathlessly. You want to say you’re breathless because it would’ve been a very Ashley thing to do. But you know very well that it’s you yourself that’s stuck in this dangerous predicament/

“Money? As far as I know his card is still in your possession.” His face still void of any emotion, and you’re sure that your face is painted white in nervousness right now.

It could all end here, your assignment, the whole mission to take down Jung Sungki, and even your life.

“I’ll ask again, why are you here?” And the gun would’ve fit perfectly on the black velvet box now appeared before you. The grip was firm on D.O.’s hand as his finger rested perfectly on the trigger, the muzzle facing directly your eyes.

Your military training quickly kicked in, you noticed that the barrel was empty and the chamber contained no bullets. Another quick scan of the eye and you saw that the magazine release button was towards the back, signifying that the gun was indeed empty.

“Shoot it. Your gun’s not even loaded.” You tried to chuckle a bit to intimidate him.

“Hmm, smart observation.” His left hand that was in his back was now presented beneath his right, holding a load of magazine before chucking it inside the magazine well. “Do they now train whores in the club to know whether a gun is loaded or not?” He asked with his sarcastic smile.

D.O. took another step closer towards you, the barrel of the gun now pressed firmly on your stomach. The soft lining of your nightgown made the cold metal be felt by your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

He lowered his lips close to your ear, “Who are you really, Ashley? And I’m going to ask for the last time, why are you here?”

[ain-t-bovvered]

Epiphany 9

read first ACT 1

EDIT:  @waywardbaby​

Summary: Less than two years later, you finally passed the men of letters’ initiation and, finally, you now set foot in America eager to be reunited with the Winchesters. But if Dean thought that you spent your days only with your nose in books and hands in monster’s guts, he was dead wrong. Your mission? Something that the British branch tried and failed miserably,  or at least that’s what they told you anyway.

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel and Jack

Warnings: slow burn guys…slow burn. Also, some fluff, humor, feels and angst.

You woke up startled, air deprived and bathed in cold sweat. 'Not again' you groaned internally, a pair of arms tightening around you.

“Y/N?...” Dean's sleepy, confused voice.

“…sorry I woke you…” you sat up at the edge of the bed, gathering your hair into a quick, messy bun to cool off. Dean’s hand rubbed your back, shifting closer.

“Talk to me.”

You turned to him, smiling bitterly. “Just a nightmare, I’m okay.”

“About?”

“I don’t know…”

“Y/N…”

“I really don’t, Dean. I can’t know. Cass made it so that I wouldn’t remember nightmares or dreams about that time. It’s okay, I’m okay.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and you kissed it softly, “Stop thinking that it’s your fault.”

Your eyes fell on the rest of him. Bed hair, after sex glow, some of your marks still on him, angry and red and just a blanket, barely covering his lower half. 

He caught you staring and smirked. Of course, he did.

“Like what you see?”

You smirked back, turning to him completely, your hand sliding to his chest, pushing him back down, you follow. Both sighed when your lips met in a chaste kiss that lasted probably less than Dean’s purity pledge.

“Yeah…” you said breathlessly, “... as a matter of fact, I do like it.” 

His hand pulled you down again, you fell on him and ...GROOOWL…

“…”

“…”

“Was that me or you?” he asked, surprised.

“…that…was me ...I didn’t really eat a proper meal yesterday. What time is it anyway? you asked, propping your chin on his chest. In the bunker’s quarters, there was no natural light so it was impossible to know if it was night or day.

“Uhhmm, barely 7.”

“Should ...should we make breakfast? Sam’s probably already up.”

“Actually…” his hand grabbed your ass hard, and you yelped. “I was thinking of something else for breakfast, that didn't  include my little brother!” You giggled and kissed him softly as if you just gave him the good to go. He flipped you over and kissed you hard. He was going to repeat the great performance of the night before when your stomach protested again. You started giggling, turning red at the effort to control yourself and pulling the pillow over your face. 

His head fell on your shaking with laughter chest and he snorted. 

“Breakfast.”

“Breakfast.” came your muffled voice. 

With one of his plaid shirts on, and swimming in it, you picked up your clothes and he watched you smugly from the bed.

“...you are certainly enjoying the show Dean! Thanks for the help…! Where the hell did you throw my shirt?” you huffed, bending down, Dean’s head following your movement as his lips smacked.  

“Stop looking at my ass!” you said as you opened the door to peak outside. “Okay, the road is clear…” you turned to him, only to find him walking to you in all his naked glory. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish which was trying to breathe out of the water. Your brain struggling to form words. 

“…”

“What?”

“I’m trying real hard not to look down right now ...soooo hard!” 

You bit your lips trying not to smile and keeping your eyes locked on his. He smirked and pulled you to him to kiss you, grabbing your ass again. Before you could reciprocate, he slapped it, pushing you out of his room.

“I’ll wake up Sam if he’s still sleeping and call Jack. We’ll wait for you in the kitchen,” he said winking, before closing the door in your face.

“…assbutt!” you muttered.

“I heard that!”

Fresh out of the shower and in new clothes, you trotted down the hallway to the kitchen. You mourned the loss of that cozy, plaid shirt that smelled of Dean but better avoid getting Sam choked on his breakfast. Or even worse, having to endure the teasing, at least for the time being. As you entered the kitchen, you were greeted by a very domestic view. Dean, with a grey t-shirt and washed out denim, fumbling at the stove with a kitchen rag draped over his shoulder. Sam in sports gear, sitting and pouring coffee into the mugs, with an apple in his mouth. Jack was sitting patiently and when he saw you, he smiled and, bless his soul, got up to give you his seat.

“Good morning Y/N!”

“‘Morning Jack! Please sit down. I need to stretch my aching, old bones.”

“Why? You had a workout session last night or somethin’ ?”

Your head snapped to Dean who was filling plates with eggs and bacon trying not to laugh. 

“…No …Dean…I think I PULLED a muscle while sleeping!” you said between your teeth, welcoming the hot cup of coffee Sam handed you.

“So…Y/N…” Sam started, grabbing your attention. “I didn’t hear you come back yesterday. How did it go?”

“I got suspicious looks, skeptical looks, lecherous looks. I got names, I got sales and I got drunk. I guess it went well!”

“…Okay…I’m glad, I guess.” he snorted, “When’s the next trip?”

“Soon. A day or two. This time, if Dad lets me…” you said, giving Dean the stink eye who choked on his eggs. 

“I’ll start with the new one near New Orleans and then those two in Florida. It’s still not too hot around here. I’ll cross out those first so I don’t fry myself this summer.”

“I guess you have it under control then. Let us know if you need anything.” 

Sam got up and placed his plate in the sink. “Well, I’m out. Later guys!”

“Jack do you have anything to do this morning?” you asked, taking Sam’s seat.

“I don’t think so.”

“Driving lesson? I don’t have anyth-OUCH!” something bumped into your shin and you looked at Dean,  “What!?”

“You want to give the kid driving lessons?!” he hissed between his teeth as if Jack couldn't hear him.

“I promised him, and this afternoon I have to work on the samples.”

“But –”

“I’d like that.” Jack smiled and you looked at Dean triumphantly, biting the strip of bacon.

“Anyway, where’s Cass?”

“Angel radio went online again.”

“Case?”

“We still don’t know.”

“Umm ok. Jack, you done?” you asked and he nodded handing you his plate. “Great! Let’s go!” you said chirping. Dean’s hand caught your wrist.

“Jack, go ahead, I need to speak to Y/N.”

The boy nodded and exited the room. 

You rolled your eyes and turned to face Dean.

“I’m not gonna fight you on-mmmpf…” he suddenly trapped you against the table, kissing you deeply, your hands fisting his shirt as his got lost in your damp hair.

He tugged gently at it to guide your head back and you looked at him with hazy eyes and labored hot breath, “Jesus! You are infuriating!”

You snorted softly and, closing the distance to graze his lips, you whispered: “…workout session, really?”

“Where is Jack and Y/N?”

“Driving lesson,” Dean answered grumpily while scanning the police bulletin. Sam’s eyebrows shot up looking at the mess on the desk.

“Case?” he asked walking up to Dean, rubbing his shower, wet hair with a towel.

“Maybe…” 

Sam peeked at the scattered papers, browsing through them.  “Dude..” he snorted and Dean lifted his eyes puzzled, “Why are you specifically looking into Louisiana news?”

Dean snatched the paper from his brother's hands, “I’m not.”

“Do I need to remind you that I perfectly recognized your I-got-laid face?” he said, plopping down onto the chair across Dean, picking up another sheet of paper.

“…you want to help or not?”

“Sure.” Sam chuckled.

Pressing your fingers on the bridge of your nose, you called out: “Guys? We are back!”

“Library!”  

“Here!” the brothers answered back.

“Before we come in, I need to ask you not to freak out. Especially you Dean.”

They looked at each other confused, then they saw you with Jack right behind you, coming in. Dean’s eyes widened in shock

“What the hell!?”

He was in your face in a flash, quick hands tilting your head up.

“It’s nothing…” his gaze fell on Jack behind you, his mortified face smeared with some dried blood, holding a bloody tissue against his hairline.  “Jack?”

Gently removing his hands from your own face, you tugged at them and his eyes were on yours again, “It’s not his fault, don’t freak out!”

“What happened, Y/N ?” Sam asked, handing you a tissue. You used it to dab your nose.

“Jack got scared when some animal crossed the road and he slammed the brakes. Nephilim strength and all ...my face hit the dashboard and his head hit the steering wheel. My nose is still bleeding because, you know…” you gestured yourself, “ … human!. It’s fine, it doesn’t even hurt anymo-UGH…”

Dean had pressed the tip of your nose with his finger and the sudden, sharp pain made your eyes tear up. 

“It’s not broken at least,” he said clenching his jaw. You grabbed his arm again, looking at him with pleading eyes. He exhaled softly and looked behind you at Jack who was nervously avoiding his gaze. “Kid, you alright?”

“Yes…it doesn’t hurt anymore…Y/N I’m so sorry.”

“Pfff, it’s nothing! …look…” you said, bumping your shoulder with his. “It’s dangerous to stop like that, and we were lucky the road was deserted. But you did it to avoid an animal.” You winked at him, “I do that too…when I can…” You smiled reassuringly, pried the blood-soaked tissue from his hands and turned to the boys, “I’m gonna go wash this mess off."

Dean made a move to come with you but you nodded to Jack and Sam who was patting him on his shoulder, “HE needs you right now.  Go be papa.” you said grinning and walked to your room. Dean watched as you lifted your head up again and quickly put Jack’s tissue in your pocket, but didn’t think much of it as the task of reassuring the most powerful being in the universe fell on him and his brother now.

Confused, you looked down at your hands, sweaty under the blue, neoprene gloves.

“What the…”

Without noticing, you had put the tissue with Jack’s blood, in a sterile envelope. In front of you, several labeled falcon test tubes on a rack, each with a piece of bloodied tissue inside. Wobbling you stepped back. 

What …what happened? 

You heard a buzzing behind you, the centrifuge had finished its cycle.

“When did I ..?” 

Something wasn’t right. You remembered saying to Dean to look after Jack and then…nothing. You made an effort to recollect the rest and felt a sharp pain. You grabbed your head and at that moment you heard a knock.

“Yes?” you shrugged off the lab coat and the gloves.

“Y/N? You alright?”

“Sam !” your body bolted to the door, opening it a bit. You squeezed through the tight space and closed it quickly behind you. “Yeah, the bleeding has already stopped.  What’s up?”

“It’s been almost an hour since you disappeared. Dean didn’t find you in your room so we were looking for you”

“Ah yes, I thought I'd put in some hours in the lab, so this afternoon I’ll have more time to be lazy and do nothing.”

“…Oh okay…well, there are some sandwiches, if you are hungry.”

“Famished!”

“Found her in the lab.”  

Sam announced, entering the library, you trotting behind him trying to match his pace.

“I should have known you were nerding.” Dean scoffed, throwing a wrapped sandwich at you. You weren’t ready and you juggled it between your hands trying to not to let it fall, and failing miserably. Clearing your throat you quickly scooped it up off the floor, huffing your hair out of the way and straightening up, so very quickly.

“Wow…!” both brothers said together.

“Where’s Jack?” you asked, sitting down.

“Moping in his room,” Dean said, chewing.

You made an unhappy sound and Sam scoffed. “He’s okay Y/N. He wasn’t hungry and wanted to finish a series he started last night”

“What time do you want to leave for Louisiana?”

“…I haven't thought of it yet. Why?”

Dean squirmed in his seat, casually balancing the beer bottle on his knee, “Oh…nothing just…you know… asking.”

Sam hid a knowing smile. “Dean’s found a case in New Orleans!” he blurted out, taking a bite from his sandwich, very pleased with himself and watching Dean scowl at him in panic. 

“Oh…?”

“…Yeah, some vamps…nothing fancy. Probably just some poor bastards who got turned during Mardi Gras.” He looked nervously at you, “So, I was thinking…I don’t know …maybe…”

“He’ll give you a ride.” Sam finished for him.

“Yeah well …it’s the same direction”

“…Such coincidence, right?” you snorted smiling, “Alright, alright. Can I ride shotgun for the first few hours, at least?” you asked Sam.

“Oh, I’m not coming,” he grinned. “I’ll stay here in case Cass comes back from heaven with some news.”

“Right… cool…”you scowled at Dean who just winked at you over his beer and you had to hide your smile behind your food.

“God…! You two are embarrassing!” Sam whispered but neither of you heard.

The afternoon passed with you closed up into the lab and Sam and Dean teaching Jack how to care for firearms and sharpen the machetes for the vampire job. After dinner Cass came back without news, for now, saying he’ll try again the next day.

“Y/N …! Your nose…” he squinted at you, face closing in. You had developed a bruise and it started to hurt more during the day. He touched your forehead with two fingers and suddenly, energy tingled through your body to your face, the pain a long gone memory.

You widened your eyes, touching your nose and looking at the boys open-mouthed. But they dismissed your surprise with a  smirk.

“Soooo, drinking night?” you asked patting the boys on their shoulders “Can we bring Jack out to enjoy life instead of keeping secluded in this hole?”

“I’m not sure it’s a –” Dean started.

“Great, I’ll go get him!” you cut him off and you were already down the corridor, completely missing a baffled, mouth left open, Dean. 

You knocked on Jack’s door and opened it. He was laying on his stomach in front of the computer, completely absorbed. Perfect visual of you during college.

You shook his arm and he looked at you startled. “Y/N …your nose…is better!”

“Cassie’s angelic fingers… that came out wrong. Anyway, change clothes. We are going out to drink.”

“Why do I have to change?”

“Because you are wearing a star wars T-shirt, which is great… but here,” you said, picking up a white t-shirt and the camel jacket laying on the chair, “Put these on and go join the others.”

Moments later you found them waiting for you. You had opted for a simple, casual skater dress, a cropped denim jacket, biker boots and your perfect shade of matte red lipstick. The one that you'd need holy water to rub off. Your hair was kept in a side braid with some strands framing your face. What you were most pleased with, though, in your outfit, was a thin, velvet choker adorning your neck. It was an accessory you loved and wore whenever you could.

“Did you even change?” you asked, looking at them. Apart from Cass, who had his own thing going on with the trench coat and Jack, the brothers were...well, they looked like always did.

“Of course! I changed shirt, see?” Dean said pointing at his red shirt, which was actually …pretty hot. “Sam even brushed his hair.  He’ll scare the ladies away with that luscious mane”  he joked, Sam’s bitchface, a precious reaction.

“Sure ...or maybe they'll come on to you and you won’t know which one to choose!”

Dean’s smile dropped and he looked at you nervously.

“What’s up with that anyway?” he said, pointing at your neck. “Missing the 90s?”

“...I want it that waaaay!” you chanted, skipping past them and up the stairs.

“...Gross!”

“Wow…this is busy!” you shouted over the noise of talking people, clicking billiard balls and music. You saw an empty table in a corner and dragged Jack there with you, the others following. Sam and Dean took your orders and went to the counter.

“So…everything’s ok so far?” you asked Jack.

“It’s noisy, but I like it. There are a lot of people.”

“It’s gonna be ok Jack. You’ve made a lot of progress. It’s unlikely you’ll hurt someone.”

“Geez, thanks, Cass!”

Later into the night, Dean went to hustle at the pool tables to gain some money dragging Cass with him. It was because of his poker face, he'd said. Sam had vanished somewhere and you hoped he was with that brunette you'd seen before, making eye contact with him. You and Jack stayed at the table watching the scene.

“Having fun?” you mused, slouching on your seat and looking at him.

“Yes, this is fun!” he smiled sweetly, taking a sip out of his, now, warm beer.

The alcohol had started to have its effects half an hour before and you still had to finish the third round but you were growing weak at drinking.

“Dean’s made a friend!” Jack said. 

Your ears perked and your eyes searched for him. They landed on this cute, blonde girl who was clearly flirting the fuck out of him. You were not the jealous type and you knew Dean was also a nice person so chatting was nothing to worry about and he clearly wasn’t affected but damn … you bit your inner cheek.

“That he did…” you said bitterly, shifting your eyes to the people who were dancing to some folk song. 

“Hey, Jack.. ever danced?” 

Without waiting for an answer you dragged him by his arm into the crowd.

“I don’t know how!” he shouted over the music.

“I don’t know either!” you laughed back. “Let’s just copy the others!”

You grabbed his hands and watching other couples you started to get the hang of it. It looked like something you often saw.  Fast, jumpy and fun. Jack was stiff as a pole and it hadn't been easy for you to make him unwind a bit, but half an hour in and you were now both dancing. 

Horribly, yes but Jack was having fun. 

You called a break when he stepped on your toe for the fifth time and moved to the edge of the dance floor.

“ ’s that your girl?” you heard some guy question Jack who looked at you, confused.

“…She's my friend.” he said.

“ Great!  Wanna dance?” he asked, turning to you this time. 

“Umm…actually …n-” but before you could say something else he grabbed your wrist and dragged you into the crowd. You tried to resist and strained your neck, searching for Jack but people blocked your eyesight and calling after him was impossible over the loud music. Irritated you switched your attention to the stranger.

“I didn’t say I wanted to dance with you. Please, let go. I can’t leave my friend alone.” he started to sway you to the music, still dragging you around. You played along, trying to get out of it the easy way. 

“Aww come on, he’s old enough and there are plenty of girls who can keep him company. None of them lookin’ as good as you, though.”

You rolled your eyes.  “Ok…thank you, that’s sweet. But I’m here with someone, actually.”

“Yeah! I saw you entering with the village people but they are all busy, right now. Tall fella disappeared with a nice piece of ass, uncle blue eyes is cashing money and red shirt is busy with blondie.” Your heart skipped a bit at that, and you tried to look where you had seen Dean last but you couldn’t see over all those tall people.  

“Honestly… his loss!” he forced an arm around your waist, keeping you tightly against him. Your arms tried to push on his chest.

“Listen ...I'm flattered, really. But I’m here with my friends, I just wanna have fun.”

“That’s what we are having now, no?” 

He twirled you around from one side of the dance floor to the other, moving you further away from Jack. If you could barely see him before, now he was nowhere to be seen. 

This was starting to irritate you. “Look, you seem like a nice guy…a nice, forceful one. Maybe you didn’t hear me well enough. Let. Me. Go. I don’t wanna dance with you now.”

He laughed, twirled you around again, and embraced you tightly. This guy had a steel grip and you couldn’t wriggle your hands out of his.

“I like your accent!” 

“I like my hands free!” you retorted. You tried again to squirm out of his arms but he was squeezing too tight, almost hurting you. Now, you were starting to panic. What if Jack read the situation badly and snapped? 

Oh shit!

“Ok, listen! It was nice but I really have to go look for my friends, now,” you said, turning your head to him. You jumped, startled as you found his face mere inches from yours.

Uuuuh, nope!

You stretched your head back, your back curving away from him, but he followed you and you felt his breath on your skin. Turning your head to the side, you had time to see a very angry, stone-faced Dean coming your way.

Fuck.

Before you could warn the poor bastard, Dean grabbed him by his shirt collar, hauling him off you with too much ease, and he landed on his ass. Dean’s icy gaze stared down at him, literally warning him to stay down. A couple of people stopped to stare at the scene, probably looking for something to record and laugh about later. The guy stood up and you could see he was now pissed.

“I was giving your main bitch some fun! No need to be possessive…” he blurted out.

Oh’ no!

You hurried to grab Dean’s arm, right before he made a move to punch the moron. ��Dean! Dean, stop it! I don’t care” 

He turned to look at you, his fist still raised.  “Come on! Let's go! You can teach me how to play pool, yeah?” 

He gave another dirty look to the guy and lowering his arm, let you lead him away.

“That’s a nice leash you have around your neck!” the guy called out, loud enough for both of you to hear. You felt his arm muscles clench under your fingers.

“Son of a-” he turned, with every intention of slamming the idiot but he had run somewhere, the instinct of self-preservation probably having kicked in. “That coward!” you heard him growl, then his attention fell on you. “He didn’t touch you in weird places, right?”

“Nope! I think he was going for forced kisses before forced touches ...thanks,” you said, the last word almost whispered.

“You are more than capable of looking after yourself. Why didn’t you flip the guy?” his tone stern. 

What the hell?

“I didn’t want to make a scene. Me and Jack …? We were having fun…” 

You saw his disapproving, sulking face before he resumed walking to the table, dragging you by the arm and the irritation rose again. 

“…And from what I’ve seen… you too ...were having fun.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, dropping your arm and turning slowly to you. You groaned at his smug smile. “My, my, my …is that…?” his smile only growing bigger. “Are you jealous…?”

“What?!...’Course not!! ” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“Son of a bitch… you are! Look at that pout! Adorable!” he joked.

“I really want to smack your face right now” you spat through gritted teeth. Shaking your head, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s just go back to the table,” you said covering your blushing face with your hand and marching by him, ignoring his little laugh.

 Before you could surpass him, he grabbed your forearm, twirling you around and into his arms. He kissed you deeply and quickly and whispered in your ear, “Don’t be. I don’t have the energy to put up with another. You’re already a handful!”

You smacked his chest playfully, “Good to know!” 

You walked to the table trying to squeeze between the crowd, having Dean right behind you with a hand on your nape to guide you through it. Suddenly, you felt really really hot. Better save this idea for later, too.

“Well, that was fun!” 

You jumped onto the kitchen counter and opened the plastic bottle that Dean had tossed your way, taking a few, long gulps of fresh water. “God I’m glad this place is underground,” you said, shrugging off your jacket.

“Sooo…leaving after tomorrow is cool with you?” he said leaning on the table across from you.

“Yep….you know ...I'm not sure if you are being considerate or wished really, really hard for some case to be on the same direction I'm going.” you smiled, smugly.

He smiled back and crossed the space that separated you two, his hands grazing your thighs, face inches from yours. 

“Y/N, how dare you…! Vamps are a serious threat…” he said lowering his face to kiss your jaw, your head moving to give him better access. “Sitting this one out goes against my morals!” 

He pulled you closer and you opened your legs to welcome him.

“Oh yes! I know but... I saw the ‘case’” your hands smoothing the crease on his red shirt right above his chest.  “... And that’s a poor excuse of one!” you looked up at him from under your eyelashes. He opened and closed his mouth in embarrassment.

“…well…” he chuckled, scratching the back of his head and looking like an adorable, little shit. 

You lifted your legs and locked them behind him, bringing him forward, as he lowered to your lips. 

“Can I drive?” you asked, grinning.

He smiled into the kiss and picked you up, “It’s cute that you still ask me that”

“One day, Winchester… One day!”

Your muffled giggles faded away behind door number 11.

[holmesoverture]

The Christmas Party - Chapter 4

lol see this is why I never post fic, because I’m lousy at updating

First chapter be here Previous chapter be here More info on my fics in general

Warnings: Holmes is kinda stupid in this chapter and I’m too lazy to go back and fix it

Time for exposition woooo

*

“Eight months ago, I was hired to locate some Egyptian artifacts that had gone missing from the home of Sir Gideon Hibbert.  I am sure you all are familiar with the details, so I won’t waste your time by reciting them now.  So far as the Yard was concerned, the case concluded with Sir Gideon declining to bring any charge against young Harvey, but I was greatly dissatisfied with the product of my labour.  I knew that Harvey must have had an accomplice, as he was thoroughly ignorant of archaeology and yet he had managed to steal only the most valuable items in his father’s collection.  Due to the nature of Sir Gideon’s work, Harvey knew a great many people who possessed an encyclopedic knowledge of the subject, but none of them had particularly compelling motives beyond a potential desire for wealth, a desire so generic as to be useless to an investigator.  And so, in the absence of other clues, I had little choice but to put the case aside until such time as a fresh lead presented itself.

“That lead arrived to me this afternoon in the form of a letter from Lilly Archer, a parlour-maid in the employ of the Hibbert family.  In her epistle she expressed concern for her mistress’s plans for the Christmas party. But here, it will be much simpler for you to hear it in her own words.  Dr Watson will be delighted to read them out loud to you.”

He abstracted an envelope from his sleeve and pressed it to my chest with rather more force than I thought necessary.  I nevertheless accepted the missive, which ran as follows.

To Mr Sherlock Holmes,

I hope this letter reaches you in time to be of some service.  I should have sent it sooner but I allowed fear to stay my hand.  Now, at last, a sense of integrity has overcome my qualms about telling you the cause of my uneasiness.

I am a parlour-maid in the service of the Hibbert family of Belgravia.  You made the acquaintance of my employers during one of your previous cases, so I’ll not bore you with lengthy accounts of their characters and habits.  In the three years I have been in this position, I have been satisfied and content in every respect, excepting of course for the incident to which I previously alluded. The entire household was dismayed by Harvey Hibbert’s betrayal of his father’s love and trust, but we have learned to find a new, happy equilibrium following this loss.  Life seemed quite normal again until this past Saturday when Philomena Hibbert told me of her plans for her Christmas party, the same affair to which your friend Dr John Watson has been invited.  It all seemed perfectly routine until she said my services would not be required the night of the party, as she intended to hire outside help especially for the occasion.  I cannot tell you how disconcerted I was by this statement. During my time with the Hibberts I have served at many a party, even at very large ones, so despite Miss Hibbert’s assurances that her decision was in no way a reflection upon my capabilities, I could not but take the news personally.

This alone would not have been enough to arouse in me more than hurt feelings, but on the next night, I bore witness to Miss Hibbert engaging in a most curious ritual. It was very late, and I had bid Sir Gideon a good-night.  As I walked the hall toward the stair, the door to Sir Gideon’s study suddenly opened and Miss Hibbert stepped out.

“Oh good evening,” she greeted me very calmly, though I thought I noticed her jump when first she saw me.  “Going up to bed, I assume?”

“That’s right.  Do you need anything before I retire?”

“Not a thing.  I was just finishing some letters before the party tomorrow.  Sleep well, Lilly.”

“You as well, Miss Hibbert.”

Her presence in her father’s study was not itself suspicious, as she frequently makes use of it when Sir Gideon is not there.  Yet I could not forget her insistence upon hiring new maids for the Christmas party, nor her surprise upon seeing me in the hall.  Her excuse about why she had been in Sir Gideon’s study also lacked the ring of truth.  I had never known her to write letters so late in the day, and even if she had altered her routine, she could not have altered her skill with a pen.  Upon writing a letter, she always emerged with fresh ink stains upon her hands or her cuffs, but when I saw her last night skin and cloth alike were perfectly spotless.

When I reached my room I spent a great deal of time considering these very trivial matters and decided that they were, perhaps, not so trivial after all.  I began to suspect Miss Hibbert did not want new parlour-maids for the sake of the party as she claimed, but rather because she feared I might see something untoward if I were present.  I cannot begin to guess at what that something could be, and so I place the matter in your hands with the sincere hope that the only response I receive will be a firm chastisement for libelling such kind employers with my overzealous imaginings.

Very truly yours,

Lilly Archer

“A very observant girl, your Miss Lilly Archer,” Holmes said as he took back the letter.  “By the time I received her letter I had mere hours to prepare myself for the party, so I dressed in the only raiment which I knew was guaranteed to grant me access to the Hibberts’ home and left my rooms at once.”

I had closely watched Holmes’ door before I departed and seen nothing.  I could only conclude that he had left by his bedroom window, gown and all.

“It is very brave of you, exposing your source’s name,” said Professor Angues.

“Surely you are not implying that she is in any danger from you or Miss Hibbert, you who were too indolent to do anything more than nudge her brother in the direction of your dirty work?  I think Miss Archer is quite safe from you, though given Sir Gideon’s propensity for laying the blame for his misfortunes at the feet of the innocent, she may find herself at the employment agency come morning. Given the events of the past year that may be a relief to her.”

Sir Gideon said nothing, but I was heartened by Miss Linwood’s look of resolute concern.  I could only hope she would intervene on behalf of the upright Miss Lilly Archer, should such action become necessary.  In the days that followed Holmes and I had several long discussions on the importance of protecting the anonymity of his clients regardless of how little harm he believed such an action would cause, or how much better his explanations would be received with the inclusion of such information.  I cannot speak to whether or not he truly understood my arguments, but at the very least he has not revealed another client in such a fashion since that day.

“Miss Hibbert, you’ve been very quiet,” said Holmes. “Perhaps you would care to share with us the history of your association with the distinguished Professor Angues, and he can check you if he remembers differently.”

Miss Hibbert raised an eyebrow and I thought for a moment that she would refuse to speak.  She must have realised, however, the futility of her situation and that nothing she said could make it any worse for her.

“I have known Rodrick since I was a small child. He and my father often spent their days working away in Dad’s study, and Rodrick spent more dinners here than anywhere else.  For years he seemed to me a jovial man, forever sending my siblings and myself on small errands and paying us in sweets.  But as the years passed, maturity opened my eyes and I saw that his good humour concealed a most resentful soul, jealous of the heights to which my father’s career had risen over his own.”

“You do me an injustice,” Professor Angues interjected. “I was not always the bitter creature you describe.  When I thought of Sir Gideon and myself as equals I was both content in my work and proud to be his associate.  But after he accepted his knighthood I reflected upon my own professional achievements and accolades and found them miserably deficient when compared with those of my colleague.  For forty years I devoted myself to my career, foregoing the comforts of marriage and family in order to better serve my chosen field, and to what end?  To see my accomplishments overshadowed by a man who had not sacrificed so much as a quarter of what I had?  It was too much, too much for me.”

“It would be most uncharitable of me to begrudge him such sentiments,” said Miss Hibbert.  “Dad encouraged my interest in Egyptology and sent me to the finest women’s colleges, for all the good it’s done me.  The only expeditions I went on were those in which my father invited me to participate and I derived no pleasure from them, harassed and belittled as I was by the very men whom I had hoped would welcome me as their peer.  I should have been very happy indeed to be an equal to them, but their mockery ignited within me the desire to prove myself their better.”

She paused for a sip of wine.  I thought, with no small regret, how tragic it was that so many brilliant sparks should be snuffed out by the world’s unfair and uneducated expectations.

“Without ever giving voice to our grievances we bonded over them.  With every tribute that came Dad’s way, our admiration for him and our acrimony towards everyone else grew in tandem.  Finally, one clear April night, we aired our mutual complaints to each other and made a fateful decision: if our knowledge and our experience could not earn us true greatness, we would settle for notoriety.  My brother Harvey was always something of a misfit, flitting from occupation to occupation with an incurable restlessness.  He was unemployed at the time and we thought he might be receptive to the idea of any method by which he might gain wealth and excitement.  Upon securing his cooperation, we agreed to move forward with our plans.

“The night before we acted, I was seized by piercing doubt.  After all, every reputable Egypt enthusiast had snubbed me, so why would the disreputable ones behave differently?  I said as much to Harvey, who quickly put me to rights.

“‘I very much doubt anyone willing to illegally buy Egyptian artifacts is going to quibble over the sex or the rank of his suppliers, so long as the merchandise is of a good quality,’ said he.  I took his words to heart and have never doubted myself since.”

“How lovely it must be to have such a supportive brother,” said I, and Miss Hibbert ignored me.

“Our first attempt was unsuccessful, as you well know. Poor Harvey bore the brunt of our failure but loyalty sealed his lips and shielded us from your efforts to identify us.  Rodrick escaped to the States without the treasures he had hoped to sell there, Harvey was evicted, and I was left alone to brood for six long, lonely, infuriating months.  Even if I had conceived of a new plan during this period I would not have had the courage to implement it so soon after such a devastating blow.  Was this my destiny, to never accomplish a thing no matter how diligently I devoted myself?

“On the day Rodrick Angues returned from his lecture tour, I paid him a visit at his home in Surrey and found him in a joyous mood.

“‘I have always believed that even the gravest misfortunes serve a higher purpose,’ he said. ‘But it is only now that I realise what the reason for our failure was.  During my time in America, I was approached by many a gentleman who expressed the heartiest enthusiasm at the idea of owning a piece of Egyptian history. They were so enthusiastic, in fact, that most dropped subtle hints to indicate the method by which certain objects were obtained for them was of no consequence.  I have here a list of the items they specified.’  He handed me a slip of paper containing a lengthy list of artifacts.  ‘Now that we know precisely which artifacts are in demand and how much my contacts are willing to pay to obtain them, we can take from your father those for which we can guarantee a buyer rather than assuming that the most valuable are the most desired.’

“As I perused Rodrick’s list, I became more and more certain that his plan was a solid one and that he and Harvey and I should have little trouble in making a success of it.  Although my father wanted no association with my prodigal brother, I have remained as close to him as before, and Dad never begrudged a sister’s love for her brother.  I was certain that Harvey, cut off as he was, would be keener than ever to lay his hand upon our father’s treasures.  When I later consulted with him I would be proven correct, but in that moment, I felt compelled to warn Rodrick of a probable obstacle to our success.

“‘This thing won’t be as simple as it was last time,’ said I.  ‘Dad has grown paranoid since the incident with Harvey and locked his Egyptian valuables away where no-one can see or get at them.  The only time he displays them anymore is when he is expecting company.’

“‘Has he not told you where they are and how to access them?’

“‘Of course, but that is a problem.  It is only me he has told.  If anything of his were to suddenly go missing, he would know I have betrayed him.’

“‘Then we must plan accordingly,’ said Rodrick. ‘If he only exhibits his collection at social gatherings, then we will raid it during a social gathering.’

“I reminded him of the Christmas party Dad liked to have every year, and thus the date of our undertaking was decided.

“I had intended to hire an additional parlour-maid for the night of the dinner-party to help Lilly in her duties.  Now, however, I made up my mind to give Lilly the night off, and to tell Dad that I would hire two parlour-maids who had special experience in serving at such events to see if it was worth the extra cost or if our regular parlour-maid was good enough.  He agreed at once, never suspecting that one of the supposed servants was his own son, and the other an associate of his whose true identity I would not divulge even if I had such information.”

“I won’t say anything either!” cried Harvey Hibbert, in what turned out to be his first and last contribution to our conversation.

“But Mr Holmes was the other maid,” said Miss Linwood.

“I could hardly be expected to know that,” Miss Hibbert replied, lips thinning with irritation.  “I had never met the woman Harvey employed to help him in this endeavour, so I had no reason to suspect that ‘Chastity Page’ was anyone other than who she said she was.  Harvey did appear to me somewhat anxious when he arrived but I blamed this on simple nerves, and as we never had a moment alone together, there was no opportunity for him to warn me of the unlucky turn of events.”

“I believe I might shed some light upon this matter,” said Holmes, cheerfully.  “It was mid-afternoon when I arrived at Lowndes Square, and I waited at the corner until I saw two women approach this house.  I intercepted the pair and begged them to allow me to replace one of them at the party.  They were at first resistant, so I told a most extravagant lie about my violent drunkard husband and starving babe.  Oh, it was an exquisite performance!  I wish you all could have seen it.  I carried on until one of the women acquiesced and hurried away without so much as a ‘good-day.’  It would seem that even thieves are not without some heart.  The woman who remained, whom we now know to be Harvey Hibbert, seemed very uneasy about the whole business but said nothing as we ascended the stair together.

“Harvey, who had identified himself as Miss Mildred Myers, and I spent most of the afternoon preparing for the party, and I am sure you will agree that we executed our duties most efficaciously, with two notable exceptions.  The first, as you saw, was when I fainted in the middle of the second course.  I was a bit overzealous with the corset, I suppose. The second was instigated by Harvey himself.  As soon as we served dessert he excused himself from the kitchen, giving a pretext that I could not quite hear.  By this time I had already deduced that Miss Myers was not who she appeared to be, so I followed him through the conservatory and into the parlour.  There I found him checking the bottom of each artifact and, if they met some standard that was quite unknown to me, he loaded them into a satchel he had procured from somewhere.  I confronted him and we came to blows.  But I’m afraid I am monopolising the conversation.  Do continue, Miss Hibbert.”

“There is not much to tell that has not already been told.  The reason for Harvey’s disguise was simple.  Everyone knows he is no longer welcome in this house, so were any witnesses to see him coming or going, suspicion would be cast in his direction. But if the parlour-maids perpetrated the crime, then not only would the police have no reason to suspect Harvey, they would spend all their energies trying to locate the sticky-fingered women while Harvey rested easily and Rodrick arranged for the shipment of the stolen goods to America.  We all would be completely safe and free of suspicion.

“As for the supposed letters I was writing last night, Lilly was quite right to distrust my excuse.  I was using pen and ink to place a small mark upon the underside of each artifact Harvey was to remove from our father’s possession. Harvey had complained of having to memorise which items to take and which to leave during our first attempt, so I thought this would make his task all the simpler.  I could not but feel tense and anxious as I hurried to finish my assignment before Dad caught me, hence my surprise upon seeing Lilly just outside the door to the study.”

“But why did you do it, Philomena?” cried Sir Gideon.  “Have I been such a horrible father that I deserve such mistreatment from not one but two of my children?  And you, Rodrick!  How many hours did we spend studying together at university?  How many adventures have we had?  We have known each other these thirty-seven years!  Did all of that time and work and amity mean nothing to you? To either of you?”

“Not everything is about you,” Miss Hibbert crisply replied.  For the world I could not remember what about her had so captured my fancy mere hours before.  “Our feelings towards you are unchanged.  It is only that our feelings towards personal glory have grown enough to overtake all other sentiments.  Now that those feelings are laid bare and our plans brought to ruin a second time, I will pack my belongings and leave this house to seek my fortunes elsewhere.”

Sir Gideon made no move to stop Miss Hibbert as she swept from the dining-room, straight-backed and stone-faced.  She was followed moments later by Rodrick Angues and Harvey Hibbert, who withdrew with neither a look nor a word to the man whose heart they had so casually shattered, and that was the last Holmes and I ever saw of Sir Gideon’s cold-blooded friend and his even more cold-blooded children.

The party could not survive such a loss, and Sir Gideon bid us an awkward, tremulous good-night shortly thereafter.  The other guests, including myself, did not loiter, dispersing into the raw frigid night in a decidedly less than merry humour.  Holmes and I hailed a cab that offered only nominal shelter from winter’s biting chill.

“I fear that whatever gratitude I earned from saving the life of Sir Gideon’s son has been outbalanced,” said I, “and that his disinclination towards you has redoubled.”

Holmes lit a cigarette and made no reply.  I really had hoped the challenge and the exhilaration of the case would have superseded that afternoon’s dispute in his mind. Perhaps such had been true during the investigation, but now that it was all ended, enough space in his brain-attic was freed for him to remember that he was justly angry with me.  I took a breath and allowed myself one minute, no more, of private hysteria over the impending conversation.

“I believe I owe you an apology,” I said.

“Then we are in agreement.”

“I was wrong to dismiss you as I did.  Although we were introduced only months ago I like to think that we have come to know and to trust one another, and you had every right to expect better of me.  You are as always correct: one’s appetites are no reflection of intelligence, as my own actions this morning ably demonstrate.  I pray you will afford me the opportunity to mend whatever damage my thoughtlessness has inflicted upon our friendship.”

His face was turned toward the window and away from me, making it impossible for me to gauge his reaction.  The molokheyyah threatened to make an unpleasant and unwelcome reappearance, but then Holmes looked at me.  The shadows from the cab and the light from the streetlamps combined in his thin face to great and enigmatic effect, but the smile, though small, was unambiguous.  I smiled as well, and without a word all the tension that filled the cab dissolved.

“Where did you learn to be a parlour-maid?” I asked after a brief but comfortable silence.

“How does one learn to be or to do anything?  I practised,” Holmes replied.  It was unsatisfactory, so far as answers go, but I thought it best to not press the issue.  “Now it is my turn to pose a question.  It is one to which I have not been able to deduce a definitive answer, and I thought perhaps you would be willing to provide some insight into the matter?”

“I should be glad to assist you in any way I can, though I don’t see how I could solve any aspect of this case that has puzzled you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with the case.  I have already put the matter from my mind.  This difficulty relates to the quarrel which we have since happily resolved.  Why did it affect you so?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Your reaction to the knowledge that I hold that sort of intimacy in such low regard and am unlikely to ever change my opinion seemed rather more intense than the occasion warranted.  I simply wish to know why.”

For the second time that day he had rendered me speechless.  Everything seemed so clear that afternoon, but now it was as though a thick London fog had obscured my innermost thoughts.

“I cannot say,” I confessed at last.  “I suppose it was the novelty of the idea.  I have never before met a man who was so vehemently opposed to such activities, at least not one who felt comfortable enough to share his inclinations with me.”

Holmes regarded me with keen, steady eyes.

“I suppose I must believe you for now,” he said as he flicked his cigarette out of the window.

[doobler]

Monster AU - The Lich King

"Hey."

Ryan looked up, eyes wide. Michael loomed over him and the very air seemed to escape out of the room. He put away the knife he was sharpening and sat up straight. This was the first time in weeks that the oldest Lad had said a single word to Ryan. After showing his true malicious form, Michael acted like he didn't even exist.

"Michael. What's up?"

"You're old, right?"

Ryan tilted his head slightly, trying to smother the look of utter confusion on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Like. Real fucking old?"

"... Old as time itself. Why?"

Michael inhaled deep through his nose, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. From his low angle, Ryan could see a vein beginning to bulge in his neck.

"I need your help with something." Michael replied after a moment.

"... What kind of help?"

Slowly, the façade faded. Michael's body shimmered out of existence, exposing the stark ivory bones underneath. The pits of his eye sockets lit up with a crimson glow. His bones rattled faintly as he stood up taller, his teeth grinding as his eyes shined brighter. Power emanated from his stance.

"I need you to tell me where the fucker that did this to me is. So I can fucking kill his ass."

-----

Ryan wasn't a fan of getting caught and Geoff's lectures. At his request, he and Michael moved to the roof to remain out of earshot. Michael seemed intent to remain in his natural form.

"Where's this coming from all of a sudden?" Ryan kept his voice low out of habit.

"I've been thinking," Michael focused his gaze on the horizon, soaking in the beauty of Los Santos at midnight. "If you're so fucking... Chaotic and dark and whatever and you're old as fuck, you gotta know which Lich did this shit to me. I wasn't the only one, I know there are others. You have to know."

Ryan ran a hand through his hair, a heavy sigh punching out of his chest. He wracked his memory, millennia upon millennia of information. I didn't take long to recall which Lich and where he was with the utmost confidence. Creatures of that nature very rarely did a good job lying low.

"... What if I do know?"

"Hah! I fucking knew it!" Despite not having visible eyebrows or facial tissues, Michael's eyes seemed to narrow accusingly. "You do know."

"And?"

"And what? I'm gonna fucking murder that piece of shit."

"You can't--"

"Geoff told me how to kill a Lich."

Ryan held his breath, mulling it over. On one hand, he was immortal, as was Michael. Liches were powerful but they had a weakness. For all he knew, Michael had none. On the other hand, the accursed facing their cursers usually spelled trouble. The conflict could end in doom for both parties. Plus, it was Michael after all. He'd no doubt make Ryan swear not to interfere so he could regain his honor and secure victory by his own design. Ryan's own immortality was inconsequential.

"Fine. I'll help. But only on one condition."

Michael couldn't physically grin but the light of the city shifted somehow, making it appear like he was.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to write something for me."

-----

Geoff made his way from room to room like he always did every night. He checked on Jack, dropping a soft kiss on the Gent's cheek while he read. He popped into Gavin's room, trying to ignore the horrible mess, and wished him good night. He ducked into Jeremy's room, admiring the Lad's current project (spray painting every weapon he owned a hideous Rimmy Tim palette), and smiled against the younger man’s lips.

When he looked into Ryan's room, he wasn't surprised to find it empty. He was either moping in the shadows or out, both of which were normal.

However, Michael not being in his room this late at night was suspicious.

"Mikey?"

Geoff crept inside, a sense of dread filling his chest. Michael's room was immaculate as per usual, his bed perfectly made, his desk free of clutter, his closet neat and organized. The whole room smelled faintly like lavender.

Sitting on the bed was a sheet of paper. Geoff picked it up and began to read.

"Dear whoever the fuck finds this,

This could be the last thing I ever write. Ryan and I are going to find that Lich cunt and pound him into dust. I don't know if killing him will break my curse or kill me too so Ryan made me write this like a final will and testament.

My time with the Fakes has easily been the highlight of my life. I've never felt like I was a part of a family as I have here. Falling in love five times over was also pretty clutch. You guys never made me feel like I was lesser, like I was a freak. This has always been a home to me and always will be. Even if this kills me, my heart and soul will stay with the Crew. If I'm able to haunt you fuckers, you know I will.

All my stuff should be divided fairly between all of you. I do want Gavin to have my rocket launcher and Jeremy can have that leather jacket I always wear, but everything else is free game. If my bones stay behind, I want Ryan to do some magic space demon shit with it, make matching bone necklaces or something.

I have no regrets, except maybe not saying how much I love you guys nearly as much as I should have. For that, I'm sorry.

Your friendly neighborhood skeleton,

Michael V. Jones"

Geoff grit his teeth, fear and apprehension stabbing its way into his chest. He contemplated telling the others but that would only cement the idea that Michael would fail. Instead, Geoff folded up the letter and tucked it into the pocket of his shirt, right above his heart.

"I'll reach into the pits of hell, drag you out, and slap the ever-loving fuck outta you if you don't come back," Geoff uttered like a prayer. "That's an god-damned fact."

-----

Michael was floating.Up, down, left, right, forward and back. None of it existed. There was only the never ending darkness, swirling like a smokey miasma around him.

A strip of light suddenly cut through the curtain of black. Michael steered himself towards it, peering through the gap. There was a barren cliff with sad looking grass overlooking a massive Gothic castle. Michael hopped through the break and landed on his feet.

"That was simultaneously really awesome and fucking horrifying," Michael gasped, trying to calm the quake in his bones. "I could see the end of the fucking universe in there."

Ryan shrunk back into his human form, dusting off plumes of inky smog from his body.

"Yeah there's a reason why I don't make you guys travel like that. I wasn't really designed to be a taxi service."

"So where are we?"

Ryan walked to the edge of the cliff, sinking onto his haunches. He studied the castle below, eyes darting in all directions.

"Pretty sure we're in Germany, somewhere around Schwartzwald. I think," Ryan sniffed at the air, as if the smell would give him an answer. "Fuckers like this one prefer the dark and gloomy and isolated aesthetic. No better place for that than the Black Forest."

Michael nodded, pretending that he understood. Ryan stretched out his arm and pointed to the heart of the castle, just below ground.

"There's a massive room right in the center. He's there, right in the middle."

Something akin to a growl escaped Michael's mouth.

"He's doing it all over again," Michael snarled. He unsheathed the sword he'd brought, his grip making the leather handle groan. "Pulling in fighters and damning them to a life of pain, all for some fucked up depraved entertainment."

Before Ryan could stop him, Michael lept off the cliff, landing hundreds of feet bellow without breaking a sweat. He marched his way through waist high greying grass and scraggly foliage, an aura of rage blossoming from his body. Ryan sighed, dragging a hand down his face before hopping down to join him.

"Michael, slow the fuck down," Ryan called, jogging to keep up. "There's no need to storm the castle, I can phase us through the ground."

Michael stopped in his tracks, holding out his hand without looking back. Ryan shed his human form once again, becoming a swirling mass of smoke. He enveloped the undead skeleton like a smoggy blanket, clipping through the ground and sinking deep deep below. It didn't take long before they broke through soil, bursting out of a layer of stone into the clearing beneath the castle.

It looked just as Michael imagined it would. Cylindrical in shape, the room was wide and immensely tall. The walls were made of dark stone while the floor was only dirt. At one curve of the room was an ornate throne, built high with the bones of fallen warriors.

The Lich.

"You return to me at last, mighty Mogar," The Lich's voice was like nails on a chalkboard, grinding clawed fingers on the edges of your soul. "I have been waiting for the return of a warrior of your caliber--"

"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD, YOU CUNT SON OF A BITCH!!!"

Michael screamed, whipping out his sword and charging. The Lich raised his hand and a small legion of skeletal fighters rose from the dirt. Michael didn't stop, batting away the first few swings with no effort at all. He ducked under one blade, parrying the next, his bones illuminated by flying sparks. Ryan made to join the fight, only to stop when Michael yelled.

"Stay the fuck back, Haywood!" He bellowed, kicking one of the undead square in the chest. "This is my fight!"

Ryan sighed. He stayed in his natural form, keeping himself small and fading into the shadows to watch close by. The Lich stared him down, no doubt sensing his overwhelming presence.

"You've brought me an Elder?" The Lich croaked, raising a boney finger towards Ryan. "I will accept this mighty gift and retain immortality."

"This is between you and me, bitch!" Michael yelled back, landing an upward stroke of his sword. "The only gift I've brought is gonna be my sword in your fucking throat!"

Michael stood firm, knocking back every hit thrown his way. He didn't flinch when a flail barely missed his head, nor when an arrow sang through the air and sunk into his femur. He kept his stride, making short work of his enemies. They kept coming, though, the crowd thickening the closer he came to the throne. Ryan slowly edged forward, making sure he was nearby in case the tide turned.

"I'm gonna free all these bastards' souls!" Michael called over the roar of battle. Another arrow lodged itself into his clavicle. "They're gonna be free of your curse and you're gonna turn to fucking dust!"

Michael didn't land a single blow on the warriors, firmly playing defense. It took Ryan a while to figure out his strategy. When he did, a tremor ran through his heart.Michael didn't want to harm the fallen warriors that were like him.He took arrow after arrow, staggering under the few blows that landed. A massive crack spiderwebbed down his pelvis. Thick black blood oozed from his wounds. He kept going, his head held high, his eyes burning like twin suns in their sockets.

Finally, Michael was at the throne.

He stood up tall, an air of pride keeping him still as stone.

"Any last words, motherfucker?" Michael growled, raising his sword. The fallen behind him slunk back into the dirt, defeated. "I've been waiting 1600 years for this, feel free to take your time and think up something smart."

"You could never kill me," The Lich cackled, wheezing like a bitter gale. "I created what you are, molded you, defined you. I gave you purpose. I gave you immortality. Slaying me would mean bringing an end to what has come to be what and who you are. I am your god, your savior, your patriarch. Smite me and your whole sense of being will b--"

Michael rushed forward, sliding his sword between the Lich's mummified ribs. He broke through the gem around his neck, shattering the vessel that held his very soul.

The Lich let loose an unholy wail, screeching into the night as he contorted and twisted erratically. Ryan swooped in, pulling Michael back a few steps. They watched as the Lich crumbled into powder, collapsing into himself, sucked into the shattered gem, and clattered to the ground with a harmless clink.

"Damn. That was some Lord of the Rings shit."

Michael looked at his hands, flipping them over and over. His boney visage didn't change. His curse remained.However, there was a lingering and unfamiliar lightness in his chest. He looked down, amazed to find something pounding softly in his rib cage. It glowed like a tiny star, pure white and sparkling.

"Your soul," Ryan whispered, leaning in to admire it. "Been a while since Ive seen one of these. It's fucking beautiful, Michael."

"My soul?" The Lad echoed. He lifted his hand, dipping it into his chest. When his fingers phased through the glimmering ball, a tingly warmth spread through his bones. "So... I'm free?"

"Yeah," Ryan smiled, a faint twinkle in his eyes. "You're free."

-----

Together, the duo soared out of the castle, returning to the cliff where they'd first arrived. Michael stepped out of Ryan's fog, sitting down and dangling his legs over the ledge.

"I wish those other guys had taken my offer," Michael thought allowed. "We could've easily gotten them all out. They have their whole lives to live."

"I think many of them are too old and tired now," Ryan replied, sitting next to him. "That castle has been their home for centuries. I'm sure they'd rather just. Fade away."

Michael hummed softly, looking down at his hands again. His body seemed lighter than it had in over a thousand years. He truly felt free.

"I... Owe you an apology," Michael sighed, finally looking Ryan in the eye. "I've been leading you on like a real douche bag."

"Don't even mention it," Ryan beamed. "I understand. I... Was hiding myself from you guys. People who love each other don't keep such huge secrets like that."

"No, I mean. I wasn't ever really mad at you," Michael huffed, looking away. "Geoff and Jack explained that you're nothing like a Lich, you're... Like this super powerful magic space demon. You were born from the dark matter of the universe and used the natural flow of magic in reality to give yourself a soul. Liches are... Sick disgusting fucks, greedy Necromancers who won't even let death itself control them. You and them are nothing alike. It was a real dick move of me to act like you were similar just so you'd help me."

Ryan blinked in shock. He couldn't bring himself to be angry at the deception, however. He decided a while ago that the best way to advance was to come to a state of understanding and simply move on.

"I love you as much as I love the other guys," Michael turned back. The illusion of a smile played on his skull. "You're a real salty piece of shit sometimes and your stubbornness makes me wanna scream but... You're such a good person and I love you despite your flaws."

With a gentle smile, Ryan leaned in, pressing his lips against Michael's teeth. He'd never kissed the Lad like this before. His bones were warm somehow, the sensation like kissing a smooth stone that'd been left under the sun. The kiss was chaste, melting into several more before he pulled away. Ryan tried not to stare as Michael's soul glowed brighter for a moment.

"That... Was surprisingly nice." Michael whispered.

He leaned in again and Ryan met him halfway. The Gent shed his human form, making Michael laugh. The logistics of a human skull and a deer-like shadowy being kissing were odd but still worked by some divine miracle. They stayed that way for a while until the tawny fingers of dawn curled over the horizon.

"Alright, ok," Michael snickered, pulling away. He'd wound up halfway swallowed up by Ryan's smokey body and laughed when the Gent shrank back. "We should get home before Geoff has a fucking aneurysm."

Ryan nodded, standing upright. His body expanded, a void opening up inside. Faintly, deep within, Michael could see a window to the penthouse. He dipped a hand into the portal, steeling himself.

"Remember," Ryan echoed from everywhere and nowhere. "I'm always here for you, Mogar."

Michael let out a childlike giggle. His old name sounded so foreign now.

"I know." He replied and let the familiar darkness swallow him whole.

[mgcmind]

soulmate au pleeeeeeeease!!

Between a new supervisor position, the holidays, and wedding plans, I’m finding very little time to write! But this prompt just…took on a whole life of its own in my head. So this turned out much longer than expected. lol

I hope you like it, @quaintaffairs!

What’shilarious is…he doesn’t even believe in Soulmates. Well, yes, he believes inoxytocin and dopamine and the biological drive to procreate. He even believesin love, on his more romantic days.

Buta Soulmate? This one person who givesyou everything you never even knew you needed? Someone destined for you?  No.

 Whichis why it’s hilarious that he’s breaking into the Soulmate Letter Directoryright now.

It’snot because he wants to find out who is listed as his soulmate. Whatever name scrawled there in red cursive on thedirectory would be of no consequence to him.

Hejust wants the government to be held accountable, is all.

Becauseeven if the very concept of a Soulmate is rubbish, L still needs truth out there.He can’t stand the conspiracy. The cover-up.

Andthis is one of the greatest cover-ups of all time: that an oligarchy in controlof the SLD actually knows everyone’sdestined partner. They keep track.It’s not that those letters people send addressed to “X’s Soulmate” get deliveredby magic, or by spiritual energy, or that the soul actually pulls the lettertoward itself when it is sent, as so many people believe.

No…Lhas found out that a select group of powerful individuals send the letters –and use the knowledge of who a person’s Soulmate is against them.  

Aselect group of individuals know whoeveryone’s most important person is. And L is certain that they who control thatknowledge are using it for personal gain. After all, what greater token of blackmailcould one find than the identity of a Soulmate?

Why,one threat against them and you could control a person’s entire fortune. Youcould control their future, too. You could do anything to them, and they’d bepowerless to stop it.

Nobodycould stand to risk their Soulmate’s life.

(Well,no one except L, who doesn’t believe in those things. But L is an aberration inmany ways, and doesn’t consider himself one of the masses.)

Backto the point. The point is: the vast majority of the world does believe in Soulmates, and people have killed (or worse) toprotect theirs.

SoL is breaking into the SLD. He’ll take the Directory, and make the knowledgepublic.

Destroywhat makes the oligarchy powerful, destroy the oligarchy. Simple. Elegant. Llikes elegant solutions.

It’sdark, and deceptively still. L is just inside the first layer of security: afifty-foot wall, sealed with retina scanners and surrounded by security guardsbuilt like linebackers.

Inother words, a joke.

Afterslipping past the wall, he had found himself inside of a vast, circular innerroom – cold and dark and seemingly deserted.

Now…wherewas that second layer to be found?

Lis inspecting a suspicious-looking blinking green light when a sound catcheshis attention: a sharp intake of breath, like the sound someone makes when theystub their toe on something in the dead of night.

Weighingthe odds of getting himself killed if he speaks and finding them favorable toremaining silent, L calls out, “Who’s there?”

Onlysilence greets him, but it’s a tense silence, and L knows he wasn’t imaginingthe sound he heard.

Someoneis there. Someone who doesn’t want to be found.

Interesting.

“Speak,”L commands, in a clear voice. “Or SLD security will make you.”

Whoeverit is apparently decides to reveal themselves, because instead of an answer, Lhears a soft laughter – bell-like but decidedly masculine, and from someone whois either young or naïve to cigarette smoke. Or both.  

“Youaren’t SLD security, or any other kind of security,” says his companion, and Lwas right – it’s a young man. He speaks in a low, thoughtful voice. “Andneither am I. So we can either let each other go about our business, or we cancall even more attention to ourselves and actuallybring security here. Which do you want?”

…interesting.

Thinkingthat his silence will be answer enough, L goes back to inspecting the greenblinking light. The knowledge of the loaded Beretta tucked into his waistbanddoes him some small amount of comfort.

Afteremploying some thoughtful reverse-engineering and a miniature welding torch, Lescapes the dark circle. Evidently his companion has chosen to take a similarcourse, because L is followed out of it.

Whenhe looks over his shoulder, he sees that the man is wearing black from head totoe, including the hood he has pulled over his hair, and the long scarf wrappedaround his neck, which covers his nose and mouth.

Theireyes meet, momentarily, and L feels a flash of…something…before the man looksaway.

Llets himself stare for a few moments more, then remembers his mission.

Theyhave emerged into a room filled with brilliant golden light. The ceiling is sohigh that L cannot see it, and all around them are shelves upon shelves,stuffed with envelopes and small packages, tied with red string.

Lwas expecting to find someone, anyone, here…someone who could lead him to theoligarchy that controls the SLD, if not the oligarchy itself. But the room iscompletely deserted.

There’sa raised dais in the center, with a notebook lying open on it. It can only bethe Directory. L is drawn forward, as if by something outside his own power.

Inchesfrom the platform, inches from taking a closer look, snatching the notebook,and completing his mission, his companion halts him.

Lfinds a Colt .45 aimed between his eyes, held out fixed and steady.

Luckythat he is possessed of reflexes that are faster than average. They have neveryet failed him, and do not choose now to begin. Without even thinking, he hashis Beretta similarly aimed.

Theyare nearly of the same height, and there’s a pretty sort of symmetry to howthey hold each other at gun-point.

“Look,just find your letter and go. Don’t make me say it twice.”

“I’mnot here to find a letter,” L says.

Thisisn’t the first time he has been held at gun-point. And if he is to die here,then die he shall. It would have happened eventually, anyway. L is not afraid.

Andat least one part of the oligarchy has been identified. L is sure this manknows something.

Maybehe knows everything.

Theireyes have met again, naturally, and L feels that same…flash…again. And he iscloser now. He can see better. There is something shimmering in those brownirises. Japanese words?

HisJapanese is rusty, especially when it’s not written in romanji, but L makes do.

Night. God. Moon.

Whaton earth?

Allof a sudden, his enemy’s eyes widen, and suddenly L finds that the gun pointedat him has begun to lower, just slightly.

“Itcan’t be,” his companion whispers.

“Whatcan’t be?” L asks, and he will remain curious right up to the end, won’t he?

“Younever sent anything!” the young man suddenly shouts. “If you’ve been alive allthis time…why would you never send anything?Was even a postcard too much to ask?”

Slowly,things begin to coalesce in L’s mind, and he feels the first few tremors offear that he has experienced all night.

Hedoesn’t know what to say. It’s not a common feeling, for him.

“Youwon’t even speak to me, either?Unbelievable!” the young man continues to shout. He flings his gun across theroom, and it hits the marble floor with a clash that echoes all around them.“Oh, put that thing down already, will you?” he snaps with audible distaste.“It’s no use against me. You can’t kill your own Soulmate.”

Lstill cannot speak, and doesn’t like the feeling.

“God,you must understand what I’m talkingabout. You were smart enough to break in here, weren’t you? I’m your Soulmate.Your One and Only. Your True Love? The person most compatible with you in thewhole world?”

Lopens his mouth, then closes it again.

Theman makes a frustrated, animalistic noise, and pushes the hood off of his head.He rips the scarf away too, throwing it angrily onto the floor.

“Isaw your name in your eyes!” he shouts. “L Lawliet. And I know you saw mine.Light Yagami?”

Lknew his Japanese was rusty, but not thatrusty.

But…bythe Gods, this…this Light Yagami…is beautiful. L still doesn’tbelieve in Soulmates, but he is not so proud that he won’t admit to finding himthe most beautiful man – person, actually – that L has ever seen.

Shiningbrown hair, perfect nose, eyes like those of a doe (but sharper, clearer, andmore ruthless somehow, but in the most attractive way). Lips like they werecarved by Michelangelo.  

“Willyou say something?” Light demands. Heeven goes so far as to stamp his foot.

Lsays the first thing that comes to mind.

(No,no, he doesn’t. He says the third thing that comes to mind, the thing hebelieves will frustrate Light Yagami the most. Just to see what will happen,and how easily L can push his buttons, and test whether or not L will beleaving this place with more than just the Directory in his hands.)

“Hasanyone ever told you that you are absolutely stunning?” L asks. He makes apoint of looking at Light as though he is a piece of filet mignon on special.

“Ohfor God’s sake,” Light snaps. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re absolutely infuriating? Will you answer my damnedquestion already? Why did you never write?”

Oh yes, L thinks. Ohhhhh yes.

“Asit happens, I don’t believe in Soulmates,” he answers, with deliberate unconcern.“Why should I have written? And I might just as well ask you the same question.Why did you never write yourself?”

“Youdon’t believe in Soulmates?” Lightasks, aghast and seemingly disgusted. “How can…who would…that’s like saying youdon’t believe in the moon! Or the stars! Or…or…the atmosphere!”

Lshrugs. “To each his own, I suppose. But you haven’t yet explained why you didn’ttake it upon yourself to write to me. You clearly knew who I was.”

Colorrises high on Light’s cheeks, but his expression doesn’t betray any embarrassment,or shame. On the contrary, he seems nothing so much as furious.

“Sonot only do you have no belief in Soulmates, but you also lack even one romanticbone in your entire body,” he bites out. “Fine. So long as we’re doing this thedifficult way, I’ll tell you. I had access to the Directory. You didn’t.Forgive me if I wanted to know the way in which you’d…reach out…to me. Forgiveme for the apparently unspeakable crime of wanting to be surprised. Dare I say, wooed.”

Lightrolls his eyes in further disgust and turns away. When he speaks again, it iswith his back toward L.

“Iknow you want the Directory. You’re not getting it. Not in a million yearswould I let you take it. Especially when you don’t even believe in it yourself.The world could use a little more joy in it. A little more love, or do you notbelieve in that either? It doesn’t matter. I’m keeping it. I worked damn hardfor it and not even my Soulmate” – hesays the word with dripping sarcasm – “will take it from me. People are goingto keep getting their letters, and keep sending them, and finding their One andOnlys, and having that small bit of magic in their lives.”

“Youexpect me to believe that you – and you alone – manage the letters for the entireworld’s Soulmates?” L asks.

Lookingover his shoulder at L with a dry, almost pitying expression, Light says, “Yousay that like it would be difficult.”

Ldoesn’t believe in Soulmates. He doesn’t.

“Andyou do all of this for…what? Profit? Do you charge for postage? Influence?Power? Blackmail?”

Lightturns away again, presenting L with his back once more. “What kind of life mustyou have lived, to think that someone would only bring lovers together forprofit or for power?” he asks quietly.

Ldoesn’t dignify that (piercing, painful, compassionate)question with a response.

“Itisn’t right for one person to have all this knowledge,” he says, instead. “Youcould easily turn the world into one of your own making. You could be a god.”

Lightsighs, heavily. “If I were anyone else, you might have a point, Mr. Lawliet. ButI’m not like everyone else. I’m different. And I suspect that you are too. Soleave it be. And leave me be, while you’re at it.”

Lspares several moments’ thought on his next move, then steps up very close toLight. He comes close enough to feel his chest against Light’s own back when hebreathes, to smell his cologne, to speak his next words right into Light’s ear.

“You’renot infallible, Light Yagami, even if you do come very, very close,” L says. “Andas determined as you are, I would wager that I am just as much. So…even if Idon’t believe in Soulmates…I believe we could be something.”

Lleans in, using his voice to his advantage. He’s been told that it is rich anddark enough to penetrate even the most obstinate of ears. “Enemies? Lovers? Both?”

Lightdoes a fair job of hiding it, but L can read his desire in the slight quicknessof his breath, the fine trembles in his fingertips.

“Ifyou plan to use your soul to seduce mine into giving you the Directory, you’llbe sorely disappointed, L Lawliet,” he says quietly.

“Oh,Light Yagami,” L chuckles. “I’m counting on it.”

[voltronreaderinserts]

Monster!AU Intro

So this is the beginning of your journey into the Monster!AU! *spoopy music playing on the organ* It’s gonna be great I promise. There’s plot!! OoOOOOo PLot! And everything is standalone (you can just read your favorites!) and also interconnected (meaning if you choose to, you can read the whole story!). You can pick your own fate, or find your way home to your original reality!~ So please just enjoy my silly AU, and have fun!~

The order is STILL going to be a secret, but I will give you this: Lance is first~

P.S: I reserve the right to make up whatever situation I want, so if I say there’s another trans-reality comet, then goddammit there’s another trans-reality comet, I need it for plot.

-- Ryan

Introduction || Lance || ??? || ??? || ??? || ??? || ??? || ??? || ??? || ??? ||

It’s only fragments that you can recall.

Where did you come from? There’s a lot of light. It’s warm, and the air feels fresh and inviting. You can still feel the soft tufts of grass under your bare feet, and remember as you walked among fields of flowers. But... were you ever there, to begin with? It all feels foreign, yet so familiar.

Why are you here? Since your arrival, you’d put your heart and dedicated your soul to put an end to Zarkon’s abhorrent reign. You assure yourself it’s to help the cause and fight for freedom of the universe, and though it feels right, there’s a hole in your chest, as if you feel incomplete. Like there’s something missing to the whole picture.

Who are you? All you had to your arrival were the clothes on your back and a name -- [y/n]. The Paladins were just as baffled as you were, and a bit suspicious as you’d suddenly appeared in the Castle from literally out of nowhere.

The conclusion was that you had both been traveling the same course at light speed and you’d somehow collided, leaving that the reason for your sudden materialization. Since there was no proof of forced entry or hypothesized collision, and your state of amnesia and lack of, well, anything, proved you were harmless enough.

Days had passed, trying to get you to spark a memory, but you’d either run into a metaphorical wall, or there was a splitting headache that prevented you from thinking any further. It was a challenge, but you proved yourself again and again that you were tougher, and more trustworthy, than they had previously believed.

They had agreed to let you join Team Voltron, after weeks of begging and kissing up to them through chores and tasks (that weren’t required of you, of course, but how else were you to win favor?), especially after they saw you handle the training simulations.

By yourself.

Inexplicably, and very naturally, you had charged through each level of the training simulation, and come out without a scratch.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” Shiro asked, a bit hopeful that perhaps you’d regained a part of your memory.

“I’m.. Not sure.” You look at Shiro with a bit downhearted, keeping a small smile on your face. “It felt as though my body moved on its own.”

After that day, trust came easier, and you found yourself fitting in nicely with the Voltron crew.

"[y/n], over on your left! You have a few incoming fighters, I’ll take care of the ones over here!” Pidge yells through the comms over at you, though you knew very well that you had some fighters coming at you. You dodge a few with ease, before steadying the pod enough to shoot at them.

“Be careful of the comet, [y/n]! We don’t know how stable it is, or what it’ll do if it gets hit.” Shiro calls, his voice is a bit staticky in the comms, and you nod, although you know he can’t see. “Got it. Don’t hit the comet.” You answer him and charge into the fighters once more.

Everyone knew there was a chance that Zarkon had found the comet as well, but no one thought he’d be this prepared for an attack. It was easy enough to take care of the first wave, but your pod was a bit shaken and probably wouldn’t be able to take more.

“How’s the mining, Hunk? Do you have the comet secure yet??” You look over your shoulder to see the Yellow Lion securing the line around the comet, preparing it to haul onto the ship.

“It’s ready, Coran, you can pull it!” And, of course, Zarkon would go to send more fighters in pursuit of the comet. You flip a few switches on the pod, putting most power to blasters, and focused on the second wave of fighters that came at you. 

Hunk took out a good deal of them, and the other Lions follow suit. You took care of the few that broke through their defense. You had a solid formation, and it looked as though you would succeed in the mission when a stray blast from a fighter’s weapon took out your pod’s energy.

“Guys? Shiro? Coran? I can’t hear anyone.” Your voice comes through broken on the others’ comm links, but your setup was shot. You could direct your blasters, and your pod had moved to backup energy, but you had no way to protect yourself.

“I trust you. I know you can beat them!” You watch as the Lions of Voltron continuously take out the fighters, and you look behind you to see the comet has already begun moving. To you, victory had already been achieved.

That is, of course, until a fighter breaks away and deliberately targets you.

No. Not you. The comet. 

You hastily try to get your pod to move, to work, but it won’t do more than simply redirect your blasters, and glow the emergency red. 

“Come ON!! I have to protect this comet!” You thrust the ignition in one forceful push, and the pod roars back to life. Without questioning it, you take the opportunity to aim at the fighter, but it was too late.

It shoots, bypassing your pod, but hitting the comet. A large surge of energy erupts, and you can feel it; the pressure from the comet. 

“[y/n], NO!” Everyone shouts in unison, already knowing what the exposure to a trans-reality comet would do to an unprotected person.

A flash of light surrounds you and you can feel yourself slipping away. You can feel the atmosphere change around you. Petrified, your voice can’t even muster a scream, and your eyes can’t see past the white that envelops you. Suddenly, you’re falling and where you land is very much not where you were in space, nor any of the neighboring planets.

[queenofbelow]

rain, ruins or broken for bryndis?

Ruins featuring -whisper- backstory (I don’t consider it spoilery as many pieces of the puzzle are still missing). I’m throwin’ hints though. Weirdly, this word prompt tied into a part of her story that I’ve been playing around with. So I decided to expand on it a bit.

————————————-

“What do you apply after setting a bone?” Her father was standing behind her, but not overbearing. Bryndis worked on creating bushels of herbs to dry. He had been testing her in this manner for years, asking a question when she least expected it.

This habit of her father’s caused a rather large scene at the harvest festival when he asked his daughter how best to leech and dress a boil. Bryndis believed he did so because she was being advanced upon by one of the farm boys, whom she had taken a liking to. The boy had a kind and open demeanor that attracted her immediately. Though he wasn’t skilled in engaging conversation, he was pleasing to look at. Her father called him simple, she called him… humble.

Needless to say, after a large discussion and near argument with her father over gross medicinal practices, the boy kept his distance. “He wasn’t intelligent enough for you.” Her father said afterwards with a contented look on his face.

Her father had been in a peculiar mood as of late. His questions becoming more frequent. “Witch Hazel to disinfect one last time should there be broken skin, before applying Yarrow and ground Lavender to keep any smells at bay– as well as assisting with bruising. Then bandage.” Bryndis drawled. “Really Papa, have you so little faith in me?”

He came to lean against the table while she continued to work. “I have every confidence in you.” They sat there in silence for some time. Though she knew he was watching her carefully. Her father had a natural gift for healing, but he possessed skills she did not. The villagers of Bramborough thought him a mage, it did not help that they were already disposed to be suspicious.

A rumor circulated that her mother was a druid who communed with the fey. It took them months to restore their reputation, and convince them that they would not steal their children from their cradles. In the end, her family became pillars of the community, though still kept at a distance by some. It was a small village, but a happy one.

“What do you say to a quick outing to the forest, hmm?” Her father began to collect his satchel and staff, a sign that she didn’t have a choice in the matter. Though the thought to leave her work behind and escape to the woods was always a tempting. 

—–

As they ventured beyond the treeline Bryn felt tension leave her person. Like her parents, she found herself most at ease when in the wood. “Is there anything in particular you wished to show me?”

“Yes–well, I thought I’d use the opportunity of your mother being away to disobey her wishes. Do you remember the ruins of Caelia?” His voice was steady, though his shoulders were tensed.

Her mother was away visiting an old friend, an elven mage named Elothir. She knew not how they came to be so close, but the elven sage had been a consistent presence in her life from the time she was young. Bryn never took a particular liking to him, as he asked her odd questions and looked at her like one of his specimens he kept behind glass.

Her father continued but her pace slowed behind him. “Mama forbid me from venturing there, and you know why.”

When she was young, perhaps six years old, she became separated from her parents on an outing to the woods. Though the memories were faded, her mother was frightened to find her child standing in the ruins, alone and shivering. As soon as the threshold of the ruins was passed, she revived, unaware of any danger she may have been exposed to.

Since that time, Bryn was forbidden of venturing too far south in the woods. Though unafraid of what lurks in the trees, a childhood fear of the ruins remained. The villagers said witches gathered there to make sacrifices to ancient beings, and to steal away and corrupt the youth. Bryn believe it to be nonsense, but secretly feared the stories all the same.

“It is time to show you something.” Her father said quietly. After that, they walked in silence. The further they traveled the songs of the birds quieted and only the quaking of the trees remained.

They arrived at the ruins some hours before sunset. The ruins were by no means spectacular. A crumbling stone wall hid a cobbled floor, at its center was a circle drawn in white with mushrooms breaking through the grout at the circles heart. The pair approached the circle and her father held out his hand to stop Bryn from advancing.

“You know that the villagers are – imaginative with their traditions. Your mother and I thought it best to raise you away from that.” He sighed, and suddenly looked weary. 

“But some suspicions are founded, such as this place.” He gestured to the circle, “The story of this ruin is a sad one. Long ago a women named Caelia dwelled here..”

Bryn tensed, eyes widening, “The witch?!” 

“What?” Her father looked confused, “No! Really? I thought you above such fancies–Please just listen to me.” Despite herself, Bryn chuckled at her father’s furrowed brow.

“Fine. Tell your tale.” Bryn began to follow the outline of the circle, absent-mindedly reaching out her hand to the center. There was a peace here, and she began to wonder why she feared it for so long.  

He continued, his words soft. “Caelia was a touched soul and did not belong to this world. Though I cannot properly confirm the facts, I believe there is truth to the words–”

Bryn listened patiently but began to struggle to make sense of her father’s words. Her movements came to a slow halt. She looked to her father and blinked forcefully, attempting to shake off a dizzy spell. His lips kept moving, but his voice was distant. The world began to shimmer and move as time itself slowed. Unintelligible whispering began, still distant but malicious in intent.

An icy chill enveloped her akin to the sensation of falling into cold water. “Papa.” She spoke but could not hear her voice. Colors were twisting about her, the greens of the wood turning to a vibrant orange and the brown turning to stark white with etched eyes in the bark. What was muffled sound became none as she began to scream, “Papa!”

At once, the spell broke and her world returned to her. She was in her father’s arms. After a time of regaining her senses she began realize he was crying. “My child, I’m sorry,” he repeated the words through his tears, as he stroked her hair. “I had to know, I’m so sorry.”

[myaekingheart]

77. Breach in Konoha

               “Did you bring him?” a deep voice asked, stoic and sharp. There was something so strange about his eyes, so unnerving. Deidara never expected the rinnegan to make him so anxious.

               “Of course” he sighed, and his partner Sasori manifested their finding: a dead Iwagakure miner.

               “And the antidote?” Pain asked.

               Deidara rolled his eyes and pulled a small sack out of his pocket. “Do you really have that little faith in us? We did exactly as you asked: had the man lead us to the stuff, took it for ourselves, and then killed him. It’s not that hard to understand.”

               Sasori rolled his eyes, unsure of how much more of this kid he could take. “What is the next step?” he then asked Pain. A strange look crossed his face before he mapped out the rest of their plan.

~o~

               Nobody knew how the information got out. Come morning, the archives had been busted and the guards had all bled out on the floor. Security footage was inconclusive—the thief had dismantled the cameras before they broke inside. And now here Rei was, crouching on a tree branch in the middle of the woods not even sure what she was looking for. She glanced to the left and then the right, Yugao on one side of her and Mikazuki on the other, and a shiver ran down her spine.

               With Mikazuki’s dojutsu, she realistically didn’t need anyone to accompany her but this time, Rei knew more than anything that she was merely a bodyguard. Mikazuki’s mere existence put her in danger. Sending her out onto the front lines had to be suicide, but apparently her capabilities far outweighed the risks.

               The stolen information, as Rei had learned at that morning’s briefing, was a scroll detailing the intricate machinations of the shinkantazagan, the Zazan clan’s special dojutsu. As Ibiki gave further details, Rei’s entire body went clammy. She glanced to Mikazuki at the other end of the room, searching for a hint of panic in her face, but found none.

               “Doesn’t that scare you?” Rei had asked later as she and the other shinobi filed out of the briefing room.

               Mikazuki stared straight ahead, forcing composure. “No” she replied stoically. “And even if it did, I cannot let fear get the best of me.” Her voice was soft per usual but there was a certain detachment in he tone that piqued Rei’s curiosity.

               “But what if they succeed? What if they kidnap you and gauge that eyeball right out of your forehead? Leave you for dead in the woods?” Rei asked.

               Mikazuki’s left eye twitched as she paused then, creating a blockage in traffic in front of the doorway. She looked at Rei somberly, all three eyes staring straight into her soul. “I appreciate your concern, Rei. Really, I do. But none of that is going to make a difference. My family is depending on me to protect them. I knew something like this was bound to happen sooner or later, and now I have to step up and prove that I’m capable of keeping them safe, even if it means sacrificing myself. I may not be very strong, but I would risk everything for my clan.”

               Her conviction was truly admirable and had actually left Rei speechless. Now, merely six feet away from her, Rei wondered if her resolve still held fast. At any moment, they could be apprehended by the enemy. Was she not scared? And if not the enemy, then Mikazuki would her own downfall. The shinkantazagan was powerful but with great power always come great chakra exhaustion. Her eyes had been working overtime since they departed from the village. If she was to pass out, she would be left vulnerable. Rei and Yugao would have to swoop in and save her, protecting deadweight from swift shinobi hellbent on kidnapping.

               While the entire situation made her uncomfortable, however, the thing that bothered Rei the most was that she had no idea who she was even supposed to look out for. How was she to know a merchant from a malefactor? Anyone could commit crimes if they were stealthy enough.

               Her first instinct was Tanjo, the woman who didn’t know she was pregnant. Despite much pushback from the elders, ultimately Tsunade granted her and her child Konoha citizenship. Rei always thought that was a risky move. A woman sent to attack the village should never have been allowed to stay there, or at least that was what she thought. It was just begging for a terrorist attack. Especially in light of recent events, you could never be too careful. The more Rei considered this option, however, the more ridiculous it seemed to be. Tanjo was the mother of an infant, needy and crying. She could probably barely even keep her eyes open let alone stage an attack on the village that took her refuge. There was something intrinsically hard to hate about Tanjo, anyway. Not that Rei knew her very well, if at all, so perhaps her intuition was wrong but still. Tanjo was evidently young—merely 18 by her ninja registration—and her bastard son the product of some unsavory contact. How she managed to look at her child without a hint of disgust or depression was beyond Rei’s comprehension. That compassion alone was enough to make Rei think twice about blaming her.

               All Rei knew for certain was that whoever the culprit was had to be a formidable enemy. She gripped the fabric of her pant leg and exhaled sharply, a nagging in the pit of her chest. Perhaps she was just overthinking things, panicked and paranoid, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she would face their enemy very soon. A pair of foreign eyes burned holes into her back. She glanced to Yugao and Mikazuki, wondering if they felt it, too, or if she truly was just hallucinating.

               A few beats of charged silence had passed before Rei finally opened her mouth to ask but before any words could pass, a cataclysmic rumble shook the earth. Smoke enveloped the wood, a deafening roar ringing in Rei’s ears as she struggled to keep her balance upon the tree branch. The explosion, she estimated, was roughly two miles away. Rei squinted ahead and coughed into the crook of her elbow, scanning the site for any enemies taking advantage of the limited visibility. And then a hand reached out and gripped her forearm tightly, tugging her toward the blast site. Rei’s eyes stung, her vision blurring, as she struggled to break free. The harder she fought, however, the stronger the hold grew. This is it, Rei thought. This is how I die. And deep down, she didn’t even understand what it was they wanted with her, anyways. She was nothing special. The only logical reason they would have for taking her would be to torture her for information. The thought of spikes and blades and horrifying genjutsu sent her forearms stinging. As the smoke began to clear, Rei blinked away burning tears as her captor began to take form. Dark hair, pale skin, an ANBU vest—Mikazuki. Relief. She said nothing as she dragged Rei along, Yugao not far ahead.

               The trees had all been obliterated, the ground charred, and there was a distinct chemical smell to the air. Rei broke free of Mikazuki’s grip the minute they landed, feeling suddenly very small and inferior and thus frustrated. She never expected herself to feel less than compared to Mikazuki of all people, which only further enforced the realization that she had always thought of herself as better than her and she wasn’t sure which thought made her sicker.

               Yugao knelt down and inspected the ash, the dirt, the debris, searching for any clues of the enemy. As she did so, a trembling in the bushes captured Rei’s attention and she immediately, instinctively reached for her kunai. So they had been followed after all.

               “Male. 5 foot 7 inches, 135 pounds, roughly 22 years old” Mikazuki muttered under her breath. Rei shot her a cold side glance. Of course she had already seen him.

               “He’s after you, you know” Rei whispered back, turning her gaze again to the hidden man. Mikazuki gave a single nod, and Rei suddenly felt incredibly stupid. Of course she already knew that, too. That was the whole reason they were out here to begin with. Sucking in a sharp breath, Rei muttered under her breath, “So what’s the plan? Immediate attack, or hang back?”

               Yugao hardly looked up as she replied back quietly, “Just act natural. I want to see what he does.”

               With a single nod, Rei slipped the kunai back into its holster and knelt down a few feet away to inspect another patch of dirt. Meanwhile, Mikazuki dropped cross-legged into the center of the blast site and pulled a pack of cards from her pouch. She carefully opened the packaging with her dainty, manicured nails, then drew a handful from the deck.

               Yugao glanced up at her suspiciously, commenting, “I really don’t think now is the time for a game of—”

               “Shh” Rei interrupted. She recognized this routine all too well. They weren’t playing cards but tarot, which somehow Mikazuki had a real penchant for. She’s drawing cards for the enemy, Rei thought to herself. She’s predicting the battle before it even begins.

               Normally, Rei would scoff at anything supernatural like this but MIkazuki was different. Whatever she drew was apparently prophetic gospel. After all, the cards had predicted Naru’s death. She looked out to the east, estimating that they were about five miles away from the site of the incident. A cold and slimy sensation slithered down her back and twisted her stomach into knots. That wasthe trouble with being out in the wild, she supposed. The forest never forgets. She shoved the thoughts back under the garbage piles in her mind and fixed her eyes on Mikazuki’s work, equally pathetic and captivating. To think, they were placing their fate in little pieces of paper.

               From inside the village, the explosion prompted immediate retreat. Shopkeepers locked their doors tight, allowing customers to take refuge in their storage rooms or their homes. Others ushered frightened children inside, whispering reassurances that everything would be okay. There was always something so comforting about the way Konoha reacted in criss, the strong sense of community. With the great unpredictability of destruction, they took every measure to avoid getting caught in the crossfire and would be damned if they risked anyone else falling to that same tragic fate.

               An uneasiness settled into Kakashi’s stomach as he slipped his book back into his pouch. The village blurred around him, manic with the uncertainty of another strike. A bird cawed an all-too-familiar signal overhead and with that, Kakashi rushed to the hokage’s office for further instruction.

               “Kakashi-sensei!” a voice called as he went, weaving through the crowds. Kakashi paused and sighed, recognizing Naruto’s tone immediately. He really didn’t have time for this. “What is it, Naruto?” he sighed, turning on his heel. He and Sakura came racing forward, dodging frantic civilians and crying children alike.

               “What’s going on? Are we under attack or something?” Naruto asked.

               “It’s nothing to worry about” Kakashi replied. “Just get yourselves home.”

               “I saw the explosion” Sakura replied. “I know something’s not right.”

               Sighing, Kakashi placed a hand on each of their shoulders and replied, “I know you want answers, but now is not the time. This is beyond your level, so just go home and keep yourselves safe. That’s an order.”

               Naruto grimaced as he watched Kakashi turn and depart. Kakashi’s answer was, frankly, unacceptable. He wanted an explanation now. Kakashi was already gone, however. There was nothing more he could say.

               The hallway of the administrative building was packed to the brim with every able-bodied jonin in the village. Shizune ducked and weaved through the crowd with a clipboard hugged to her chest, jotting down names in groups. When her eyes landed on Kakashi, however, she yelped and gripped his wrist hard. “Lady Tsunade’s been looking for you!” she shouted, tugging him into the hokage’s office. He barely had a second to protest or ask what was going on before he was shoved toward the hokage desk and face to face with a frazzled and stressed Tsunade.

               Before Mikazuki could properly draw the first tarot, the man leapt out from the bushes with weapons at the ready. He was a steadfast enemy, deflecting every blow with expert precision, but there was something off about him. A dullness in his eyes, perhaps, or an inhuman fluency to his movement. And then, for a moment, she swore she saw…a single thread of chakra.

               “So is that the one?” a voice asked from within the shadows. His partner, crouched beside him within the exoskeleton, nodded once. Mikazuki sat within the chaos, seemingly unaffected—as calm as if she was meditating.

               “Yeah, I’m sure of it” Sasori replied. “That’s our target.”

               Deidara grinned, preparing another wad of explosive clay. “Sasori, my man, they’ll never be able to repay us for this.”

               “I wouldn’t get so cocky, Deidara” Sasori replied, but it was clear by the tone of his voice that he was smirking. “Do you expect us to become legends?”

               “No” Deidara replied. The mouth in his right hand chewed the clay into a shape of a small, unsuspecting bird. “Even better: we’ll be incendiary!”

               Mikazuki’s eyes flashed open and she leapt to her feet, dealing a fatal blow to the thread of chakra connecting Sasori to the dead man. Their opponent fell to the ground, lifeless. On steadfast wing, the clay bird glided down toward them. Rei stared at the man with wide, horrified eyes. Then, with a loud pop, the bird exploded. A thick smoke enveloped the wood and immediately, Rei and Yugao were blinded.

               Rei coughed into the crook of her elbow and squinted through the haze hoping to gain some semblance of what the fuck was going on. Footsteps sounded in the distance, then grunts followed by a scream. The world began to move in slow motion, Rei’s heart rate quickening. She fell to her knees, her head pounding louder and louder, and fumbled in her back pouch for the transmitter. She knew it wouldn’t work, but there were no other options left. At least she could say she tried. She jammed the button frantically, held the receiver to her lips, and choked out a desperate message before a sleepy haze overwhelmed her and everything went black.

               “Kakashi” Tsunade began, rising from her seat and skirting around her desk. “I am putting you in charge of the most important team on this mission. I trust that you can handle the responsibility better than anyone else.”

               “Yes” Kakashi nodded, “So what’s the plan?”

               As Tsunade opened her mouth to speak, however, the transmitter on her desk screeched. From amidst the static came the choppy, frantic message of an ANBU in danger. “We—sitch—tack—send—ASAP!”

               Tsunade cocked a brow before diving toward her desk, stealing a pen and pad of paper to jot down what she thought she heard. Unfortunately, Kakashi already knew exactly what this was: an SOS. And despite the terrible audio quality, he recognized the voice immediately as Rei’s. All the blood drained from his face and his hands felt numb and shaky.

               “Lady Tsunade!” Kakashi shouted, planting his hands firmly on her desk. Tsunade froze, the force of his enthusiasm knocking her inkwell over and spilling black ink all over her paper.

               She looked up at him and saw the crazed look in his eyes, the face of a man hellbent on protecting his beloved. She blinked a few times before finally announcing, “Okay, you and your team will go into the woods to track down this ANBU black ops squad and bring them home safe by whatever means necessary.” She had barely finished he sentence by the time Kakashi raced out of the office and toward the woods.

               Deep within the forest, an endless symphony of slaps and sighs echoed down the tunnel of a dimly lit cave. Mikazuki glared up at her captors, her face raw and bruised. She spit blood onto the floor, an instigation, as she locked eyes with Sasori. “Y-you can beat me…all you want” she gasped, “But th-the only way you’re ever going to get these eyes is…is if you pry them f-from my dead, lifeless skull.”

               Sasori chuckled, inching nearer, a beast of a body. His puppet face was mere inches from hers as he said to Deidara “She’s much tougher than I expected. I guess we’ll just have to up our game.”

               Mikazuki sucked in a sharp breath, refusing to take her eyes off her opponent. Voice hoarse, she replied harshly, “Try me. I-I refuse to back down.”

               When Rei blinked awake, the smoke had begun to slowly clear out. Her throat ached with every swallow and her body felt limp and numb. Where was she? What was going on? She couldn’t remember. She squinted ahead as a pair of blurry figures raced toward her and was immediately overcome with a sinking feeling in her gut. She strained for a kunai at her thigh but her fingers refused to cooperate. All her strength had officially been sapped. “St-stay away!” she croaked, digging her nails into the dirt, but the figures continued nearer.

               It wasn’t until he was merely a foot away from her when Rei recognized the face of her approacher. He crouched down with emphatic tears streaming down his face. “For a second, I thought you were a goner!” Might Guy exclaimed.

               Just perfect. Rei spluttered into the ground as she forced herself to sit up, her lungs aching for more air. “W-what’s going on?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

               “Lady Tsunade overheard your distress call and sent four teams of three out to find you and retrieve that scroll, which wasn’t easy considering what’s happened to the radio signals” Guy explained.

               Rei pursed her lips and nodded slowly, her memory of the current circumstance slowly returning. “Well, they must not be totally fucked if something got through” she said. She sighed upward to huff her bangs out of her face, her forehead dewy with sweat.

               Guy nodded, then grinned and exclaimed, “You know, Kakashi is going to be so thrilled to know you’re okay.” The mere mention of his name sent Rei’s anxiety peaking. She was almost grateful that he hadn’t been the one to find her. Guy was certainly not an ideal choice, but she could not stand to face Kakashi. Not right now. She couldn’t accurately predict what she would do if she had been face to face with him in that very moment. The thought of it alone made her woozy.

               “As okay as I can be” Rei muttered under her breath. She couldn’t perceive any surface damage so far, but that didn’t mean she had made it out completely unscathed. There was something definitely wrong with her, she could feel it in the way her body felt disconnected from her brain.

               Guy chuckled under his breath as he hoisted her up to her feet in one swift motion. “Let’s get you back to the village” he said, letting her lean on him for support. She would’ve complied, too, if not for one sudden, nagging realization.

               “W-wait a minute! Guy!” she exclaimed, suddenly frantic. Her mind went from sluggish to racing, as if she had been dunked in ice cold water. “We can’t go back! N-not yet! What about Mikazuki? And--?”

               “I wouldn’t worry about her” Guy replied, and the certainty of his voice almost scared her. What did he mean don’t worry about her? What did he know that she didn’t? Panic set in and if she had the strength, she would’ve shoved him away from her and demanded answers. Fortunately, Guy was not one to brood. She followed his line of sight to the edge of the clearing where the trees thickened considerably. “Sekkachi is on her way to find her now, and I have confidence she’ll bring her back unharmed!”

               The thought of Sekkachi on a rescue mission was almost laughable. Wasn’t it she who had said that the smartest people know the only effort worth expending is on yourself? It just didn’t seem to add up. But Rei was also far too exhausted to worry herself sick. Guy’s unwavering confidence spoke volumes. She would just have to trust him. “And what about Yugao?” she asked.

               “Kurenai and found her a little farther west and is taking her back to the village now” Guy explained. Then, looking her dead in the eyes, he added, “This is bigger than just you now, Rei. You’ve done enough.”

               Rei tried to accept his statement—logically she knew she couldn’t go any further, but deep down she hated admitting defeat. She couldn’t handle this on her own. Things were out of her control now. Sighing, she settled into Guy’s embrace and let him escort her back to the village. As they went, however, she glanced back over her shoulder and thought of Mikazuki. Her life was on the line; for all Rei knew, they could’ve already stolen her eyes and left her for dead. And meanwhile Rei had wasted her time feeling so selfish and petty. There was no logical reason for her to have thought the things she had about her. And now this was Sekkachi’s responsibility. Rei’s eyes skated down to the tarot cards scattered across the burnt ground. They were all face down except one, situated upright from the direction of the thickening forest: the ace of cups.

               The woods were dark this far from the village, the thick branches overhead blocking out much of the sunlight. Sekkachi wasn’t even really sure why she was doing this. It wasn’t like she knew Mikazuki very well. It didn’t feel like her responsibility to save her. And yet her body seemed to move on it’s own accord, just accept the assignment she had been given with zero protests. She had caught sight of the enemy, a man in an Akatsuki robe, just as he disappeared with a strange casing strapped to his shell of a back—undoubtedly Mikazuki. He moved so fast, and Sekkachi was already so winded, he was out of sight in an instant. Her only choice now was to rely on her sense of sound, attuned to even the slightest snapping of a twig or footfall upon a branch. And now, amid the darkness, her instinct drew her nearer and nearer toward the hideout.

               She drew a prepatory kunai as she reached the mouth of the cave, faint grunts and slaps echoing from inside. “Heh, just my luck” Sekkachi muttered to herself, sneaking inside, “By the time I get in there, I’ll be five seconds too late. She’ll be totally blinded and probably already dead, and hey! I bet they’ll kill me, too. Awesome. I totally woke up this morning wanting to die.” Despite the sarcasm in her tone, she refused to admit that there may have been an ounce of truth in her comment.

               Sekkachi slinked along the cave’s wall until she reached the mouth of the chamber. Inside stood at least two members of the Akatsuki in flickering firelight. On the ground, Mikazuki whimpered and squirmed but it was no use. She was bound and likely poisoned, far too weak to escape on her own now. The sight of her so small and pathetic stirred something in the pit of Sekkachi’s stomach. She pressed her hand to her belly and sucked in a deep beath, reminding herself that time was of the essence. If she didn’t move fast, Mikazuki was going to die.

               While she did not consider herself the smartest kunoichi in the world, every so often Sekkachi did, in fact, have rare moments of pure mental genius and this turned out to be one of them. She launched her kunai at one of the Akatsuki members, deliberately missing the target, to simply distract them. With fists clenched, they gazed around the cave with narrowed eyes and full alert. The blonde one reached inside of his pocket and formed a clay something in his hands and, like Sekkachi had hoped, certainly turned out to be a “shoot first, ask later” type. As he melded together his little creation, Sekakchi bolted out from her cover. It was a risky move but she had to have faith in her plan. And if she died? Oh well. Deidara launched his bomb toward her, the clay exploding and sending the entire chamber up in smoke. Perfect. While their vision was obstructed, Sekkachi lunged forward and scooped Mikazuki up onto her back, then felt her way toward the exit. She knew the Akatsuki were far from stupid, that they would likely tail her in a matter of minutes, but the very least she could do was try.

               Once out in the open air, Sekkachi bolted back toward Konoha powered by nothing but sheer will. Her vision blurred and her throat burned, not to mention the creaking in her intestines, but none of that was important. She felt Mikazuki, half conscious, shift on her back, a soft little sigh, a puff of warm breath against her shoulder. Her hands bound and looped down bobbing against her chest. Her thighs against her hips. Sekkachi had always been so indifferent to this girl before, and yet now she was imbued with the strangest instinct to protect her. She seemed so innocent, so docile, regardless of the tremendous power she wielded. Sekkachi willed her stomach to shut up and prayed her body would not give out before she could make it back to Konoha. The sooner she could get away from Mikazuki and this gut-wrenching feeling, the better.  

               “Dammit!” Deidara shouted, coughing as he waved the smoke away from his face. Sasori grimaced at him, an expression of pure disappointment.

               “Deidara, you need to watch your temper” he replied.

               Deidara glared at his partner, clenching his jaw, before shouting back, “We can still go after them! They couldn’t have gone that far.” It was an obvious idea—that girl couldn’t possibly be a match for them—but before they could put this plan into action, they were summoned by the rest of the Akatsuki.

               “They know” Sasori crooned, smirking at Deidara. “You’re going to get an earful when they find out it was your fault.”

               “You know what?!” Deidara shouted, raising his arms in surrender. Grumbling, he seated himself and tuned into the most recent meeting. In a strange conglomeration of holographic togetherness, the whole of the Akatsuki virtually stood before one another.

               “Sasori, Deidara…” a deep voice began, and Deidara was positive they were going to be punished.

               “It wasn’t my fault!” he erupted, “There was an unforeseen intruder, I had to attack!”

               “Deidara” Sasori sighed, “Your lack of self control is almost depressing.”

               The deep-voiced man, Pain, paused a moment. “So you failed in acquiring the shinkantazagan?”

               After a beat of silence, Sasori replied, “Unfortunately. We would have succeeded if a certain someone had not let the girl get away.” Deidara grimaced and secretly stuck his tongue out at his partner.

               Pain sighed and shook his head, then said rather unexpectedly, “No matter. We can manage without it. I want you both to come back to Iwagakure and reunite with myself and Konan.”

               “So…wait a minute, you’re not mad at us?” Deidara asked. He tried to hide the relief in his tone.

               “No” Pain replied. “It seems catching the jinchuriki might be simpler than we thought. Konan has already captured the Five Tails. The shinkantazagan is no longer of great importance to us.”

               “That’s a relief” Deidara muttered under his breath. He wasn’t sure how he had gotten so lucky but wasn’t about to question fate. If it was a mistake, there was no reason to call Pain out on it at the risk of losing his life. As the meeting came to a close, a cocky smile touched Deidara’s lips.

               “Don’t even start” Sasori spoke, and together they raced off back to the Hidden Stone Village.

               The blast site was barren by the time Kakashi and his team arrived. The only sign of life left was in the corpse of the man Sasori had used as his puppet. The sight of it all sent Kakashi reeling. He inspected the tarot cards scattered across the ground, though he of course had no real idea what any of them meant. That ace of cups felt like a bad omen, though. He couldn’t stop staring at it, the image taunting him and churning his stomach.  

               “Hey!” Asuma called, holding his transmitter up to his ear. “I think I’m getting something.”

               Kakashi turned and looked at his comrade quizzically, awaiting more information. His heart leapt into his throat at the thought of the potential message regarding Rei. He needed to know she was safe, but then again no news was good news, right? If there was information about her, it likely was not going to be good.

               “Asuma? A—ma are y—ere?” a voice called—undboutely Kurenai.

               “You’re breaking up a little bit, but I can hear you” Asuma replied. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

               “I’m back in the Leaf Village” she replied. “Strict orders from Lady Tsunade. She wants you back as soon as possible.” Kakashi’s heart pounded.

               “Alright” Asuma replied, scratching his cheek. “We’ll start heading back now. Is the village alright? You guys aren’t in any danger?”

               “No, so far we’re fine” Kurenai replied. “But Lady Tsunade wants to put the whole village on a lockdown before things get worse. Just make it back as quick as you can, and stay safe.”

               “Will do” Asuma said. And then the transmission cut. He looked to Kakashi and the other man in their group, someone they weren’t as familiar with, before speaking. “I guess that means we ought to head out.”

               “No!” Kakashi suddenly exclaimed. When his comrades eyed him suspiciously, his face turned red as he added, “I mean, we can’t go. Not yet. What about Rei? And the rest of the ANBU black ops squad? She—I mean, they—have to still be out here somewhere. I refuse to leave her behind.”

               Asuma stared back at him for a long moment, leaving Kakashi feeling particularly vulnerable and even partially regretting saying anything. Then, finally, he smirked and planted his hands on his hips. “Listen, she’s an ANBU. She’ll be fine. She was trained to handle stuff like this, right?” he said.

               A sinking realization dawned on Kakashi then. He had trained her to handle stuff like this. If she was ill-equipped for crisis, it was his fault. No one else’s. Hadn’t she been a good enough protégé? He hoped so. She had been doing this for five years now. He had to trust that she knew what she was doing, that she could take care of herself. He had to constantly remind himself that she was no longer his to hover over and protect. His job was done. She was an adult. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, forced to accept Asuma’s words, before kneeling down and collecting that single tarot card facing upward. He stared at it for a long moment before slipping it into his pouch then following his team back to Konoha.

               Kurenai raced to the front gates just as Guy and Rei returned to Konoha. The look on her face sent Rei spiraling with panic. Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. She tightened her grip on Guy’s shoulder and exhaled sharply. “I’m glad you two made it back safely” Kurenai said, approaching and then looking between the two of them. “Rei, Lady Tsunade wants you to get to the hospital as quickly as possible for lab testing.”

               “Lab testing?” Rei asked. “W-why? What for?” Despite her bad habit, the thought of getting stuck with needles and watching her blood fill up little clear tubes made her anxious.

               “Shizune is running toxicology reports on Yugao right now, and insist they do one on you, as well” she explained, “to determine what, exactly, was in that gas that left you all unconscious. I doubt Yugao has a high enough concentration of it in her system, but she should hopefully have enough to yield some results.”

               “Was she okay?” Rei asked.

               Kurenai nodded. “She was a little bruised and banged up, but nothing a few bandages couldn’t fix.”

               “That’s good” Rei replied. “And what about Mikazuki? Has she made it back yet?”  

               Kurenai averted her eyes and replied, “No, unfortunately not.”

               Dammit. Rei’s entire body flared up in a panic at the thought. Before she could even voice her anxiety, Sekkachi burst through the front gates of the village with Mikazuki in tow. Sekkachi’s face had grown pale and clammy and for a moment, Rei feared her comrade was going to throw up right there. Rei’s heart pounded. “A-are you guys okay?” she asked.

               Sekkachi forced a mock smile and gave Rei a thumbs-up, letting Mikazuki down gently upon the ground. “I think I might have internal bleeding but other than that, just peachy!” she shouted. She collapsed onto the ground and smoothed her bangs back out of her face, glistening with sweat.

               “Don’t be such a drama queen” Rei rolled her eyes and then turned to Izumo and Kotetsu at the gate, calling angrily to them, “Don’t just stand there! Get a medic ninja!” The two men paused, stock still, before scrambling to obey her orders. Rei hated how satisfying it was to watch them panic at her insistence, the power she held just by occupational affiliation. No one dared to challenge an ANBU.

               While she was down there, Sekkachi presumed she might as well make herself useful. She pulled a kunai from her thigh and tore through the ropes binding Mikazuki’s wrists and ankles together. As she did so, Mikazuki slowly creaked her eyes open to look around, dizzy and disoriented. “W-what’s going on…? Did we…finish the mission?”

               Sekkachi huffed and fell backward onto the ground. Her muscles ached—for someone so petite, Mikazuki had certainly been heavier than she looked (or perhaps it was just Sekkachi’s strength really giving out on her). “Let’s just say you’re definitely done for the day” she commented.

               Just then, a pair of medic ninjas rushed forward with a stretcher to carry Mikazuki back to the hospital. One of them looked down at Sekkachi curiously, perhaps a flicker of inexplicable recognition touching his face as if she looked familiar but he couldn’t put a name to a face. “Do you need medical assistance, as well?” he asked, cocking his brow.

               Sekkachi squinted up at him and released an airy laugh. “No, I’m just going to crawl home like a crab” she fired back, voice dripping in aggressive sarcasm. The medic ninja puffed out his cheeks and looked around, then called for his comrade to go get another stretcher.

               Meanwhile, none other than Naruto came barreling toward them with ferocious purpose. “Guy-sensei!” he shouted, his eyes skating from the bushy-browed ninja to the ANBU leaning on him for support. “Does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on?!”

               “It’s none of your business, kid. Stay out of it” Rei snapped. For a moment, she was overwhelmingly grateful knowing her identity was concealed by her mask. She could avoid the recognition with the confrontation. For now, she was just another tense, anonymous ANBU.

               Naruto, of course, found this completely unacceptable. Wrinkling his nose, he turned to Guy convinced that he would at least be able to get an answer out of him. “There was a big explosion. You can’t possibly tell me that something isn’t going!”

               Guy rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “There’s just been a bit of a security breach is all. It’s nothing for you to worry about, alright?”

               Pouting, Naruto gazed out past the gates and then abruptly asked, “Where’s Kakashi-sensei?” Yet again, Rei was indebted to her anonymity. The mere mention of Kakashi’s name drained all the color from her masked face.

               Kurenai placed a gentle hand on Naruto’s shoulder as she replied, “He was sent out with Asuma and one other. So far Kakashi’s squad is the only one who hasn’t returned yet.”

               That wasn’t reassuring at all. Rei sighed and gulped back the lump rising in her throat, trying to keep all her anxious thoughts at bay. She didn’t want to worry about him like this, but the avalanche in her brain had already been initiated. There was no stopping it now. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to be fine.

               Naruto balled his hands into fists and then started marching toward the gate, announcing, “Then I’m going to go look for him!”

               “Oh, no, you don’t!” Rei said, instinctively reaching out to pull him back by his jacket collar. “You go out there, you’ll get killed. What the hell are you thinking?”

               “I’m thinking that we’re all just standing around here doing nothing!” Naruto shouted back. “Kakashi-sensei could be in trouble! What if he never comes back? We have to go search for him!”

               The temperature gauge on Rei’s tolerance was beginning to reach it’s maximum. “If the ANBU couldn’t handle a mission like this, then what makes you think a genin like you can?” she snapped.

               Naruto growled and fought to break free of Rei’s grip, but it was no use. She had a tight hold on him; he wasn’t going anywhere. “Let me go!” he shouted. “We have to go find Kakashi-sensei! I don’t care if it’s dangerous! I can handle it! I’ll do anything! I’ve gotta go out there and find him!”

               Guy fed Rei a suspicious glance, as if to question her behavior. He knew as well as she did that this was a dangerous situation, that letting Naruto into the fray was too risky, but did she have to be so brash? He was just about to speak up, too, when Kurenai interrupted him.

               She chuckled softly as she watched the two shout back and forth, something kind of comical in the exchange, before motioning toward the entrance of the village. “Well, lucky for you, it looks like you won’t have to.” The whole group froze then and followed her directional to find Kakashi, Asuma, and the other ninja approaching tiredly. The instant they locked eyes, Rei felt herself unravel all over again and the worst part is that she knew this was one reaction her mask couldn’t hide. Or at least not from Kakashi. His cheeks burned red and it took all of his strength not to rush toward her and scoop her up into his arms. She was safe. She was okay. That was the only thing that mattered.

               The reunion was short and professional, if not restrained. With all the dispatched shinobi now returned, Izumo and Kotetsu tugged the village gates closed and locked them tight.

               “I’m glad to see everyone made it back safely” Kakashi said, surveying the group. He tried not to let his gaze linger too long on Rei, who stared straight ahead to minimize how anxiously transparent she felt.

               “Yeah, I’ll say” Asuma grinned, slapping Kakashi on the back and chuckling. He turned his attention to Rei as he pulled a fresh cigarette from his back pouch and lit it. “Kakashi was so worried something bad happened to you, I thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head.”

               Kakashi’s heart paused. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve slapped Asuma right then and there for being so damn blunt. Kurenai sighed and shook her head, watching Asuma approach Sekkachi and handing her a cigarette as she situated herself on the stretcher. She graciously took it and let Asuma light the end for her, reveling in that first drag as if she had been underwater for far too long and was finally allowed to breathe.

               Rei stood there in silence for a moment, trying to fully comprehend what Asuma had said. She willed her cheeks not to blush. “You were, were you?” she then asked, glancing at Kakashi.

               He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and replied, “Well, is it so wrong to worry?”

               “No” Rei said, shaking her head. But wasn’t it? No matter what she did, he would always worry about her. It was a fact that she had no choice but to accept. That didn’t mean she was particularly fond of it, though. She still needed to learn how to be self-sufficient. He couldn’t spend his entire life chasing after her, always swooping in to save the day. It was just wasn’t sustainable.

               A long beat of charged silence passed then before Guy nudged Rei on the shoulder and nodded toward the medic ninjas departing. “We should go get you patched up, too” he said.

               Rei chuckled nervously and shook her head. “You know what? Really, I’m fine” she lied.

               Guy narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously before shaking her head. “Nope, I won’t hear of it! Besides, if Lady Tsunade ordered lab work then you can’t possibly refuse!” Before she could protest any further, he had already started carting her down the street alongside the others. As they went, however, Guy glanced hard over his shoulder at Kakashi, as if desperately trying to communicate something. Unfortunately, Kakashi knew exactly what his eternal rival meant: an opportune moment is coming your way, and you better take advantage of it.

               He watched as Kurenai and Asuma chatted casually, slowly making their way back home, and sighed. This was all so complicated. He needed to think long and hard about what he wanted to do. In the meantime, he turned around and headed toward the administrative building to check in with Lady Tsunade. Perhaps some distance would provide him with the necessary clarity, anyway.

               Sekkachi leaned her head back against the headboard and sighed, swirling half-melted ice around in a paper cup. As often as she visited the hospital, she could never get over the bore of being admitted. She poked at the IV in her arm, finding it wildly unnecessary, and was tempted to even pull it out herself when she heard familiar voices echo down the hallway. Minutes later, Tsunade and Shizune passed her room poring over the contents on a clipboard. Kakashi trailed close behind. Just when she thought they were out of range, she turned her attention back to her IV but had not noticed another visitor popping his head through the doorway.

               “Sekkachi!” an over-enthusiastic voice called. Sekkachi startled, nearly flinging the needle across the room, before her grimace met Might Guy’s gaze. He grinned at her and waltzed forward, slapping her hard on the arm. “How are you doing? Are you feeling any better?”

               “I could be worse…” Sekkachi grumbled. This was the way she always was when she was stuck in the hospital, Guy had quickly learned: irritable and tired. He had long since grown accustomed to letting her cynicism roll off his back. As he made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed, however, there was a glimmer of something different in Sekkachi’s eyes. She pouted as she pulled at loose threads on her blanket before asking, “Hey, Guy? Have you, uh, have you heard anything about Mikazuki?”

               Guy cocked a brow, confused yet amused. He hadn’t expected Sekkachi to care that much, but seeing as she apparently did, he had a few suspicions he was itching to pin down. “From what I’ve heard—and it’s not much—is that she’s going to be fine” he replied, trying to remain cool and casual. A look of restrained relief crossed Sekkachi’s face, only furthering Guy’s curiosity. “Say, did something happen between you two in the woods?” he then asked.

               Sekkachi puffed out her cheeks, unable to look him in the eye. Did she really want to explain it all to him? Did she even have the capacity to explain it all? She didn’t really understand it herself. It was too weird. It didn’t make any sense. Maybe it was just the after effects of that poison gas, or lack of sleep, or her stomach. She looked back toward Guy and was reminded that she couldn’t hide anything from him. That he knew all the gritty, complicated details in her life. He gazed back at her expectantly, and her stomach churned.

               Tsunade chewed her bottom lip as she looked at the toxicology reports ten times over. “I just don’t understand” she muttered, walking in tandem with her assistant. “The main component of this chemical compound was banned years ago. The only way anyone could’ve madde this was if they had access to the Josozai Mines in Iwagakure but even then, those have been off-limits for at least the past ten years.”

               Kakashi peered over Shizune’s shoulder at the paperwork, but none of it made a lick of sense to him. Clearly he was in way over his head in this conversation. The only thing he really understood was when she mentioned the Akatsuki, but by that point his attention had been diverted elsewhere. As they ventured down the hallway, they passed a room whose door was slightly ajar. Inside, Rei picked at her scabs an tried not to think about the sanitary paper crinkling beneath her. His heart jolted at the sight of her, and for a moment he felt a compulsion to go and speak to her but then he hesitated. He couldn’t guarantee that he’d be able to restrain himself. He couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t wrap her up in his arms and kiss her forehead and beg her to come back to him and make things right. But then a voice in the back of his head (which unfortunately sounded a lot like Guy) spoke to him, reminding him of their history, urging him to step forward and check on her if not as a boyfriend then as just a friend.

               Just a friend. He hated the way that sounded. Things were different now. They weren’t kids anymore. They had been intimate together, saw the most raw and real versions of each other, been inside of one another. They could never go back to being just friends. And yet before he could convince himself not to, Kakashi’s body acted on it’s own accord, a magnet being pulled by the forces of nature toward it’s other half. And then he was inside, and there she was. She looked up at him and her face burned bright red, frozen in the middle of picking apart a scab on her elbow.

               Something rose within her chest at the sight of him, an impulse to rush forward and leap into his arms, bury her face in the crook of his neck, press her lips hard against his. A childish, naïve reaction. She would undoubtedly restrain herself. She had to show some sense of decorum. They were simply two Konoha shinobi and nothing more.

               There were so many things he wanted to say to her, the room felt far too small to hold them all and for a moment he was claustrophobic, choking on air. I’m so glad you’re okay. You look terrible. Stop picking at that or else you’ll scar. How have you been doing? Have you been eating enough? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. Neither have I. I’m sorry this is so weird. I’m sorry I ever stepped foot in here. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened between us. I love you. The words all converged inside his head into one blurry mass of feeling, clogging his brain and making it hard to think. He felt so displaced standing in the doorway, he even considered making a run for it, but his feet were glued to the ground. There was no turning back. The silence grew heavy. He cleared his throat, and among all the jumble managed to croak out a simple “How, uh…how are you feeling?”

               “Alright…” she murmured, averting her eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She didn’t have the strength. A few beats of awkward silence passed before she finally said, “So, uh…what Asuma said earlier…? Were you really…you know?”

               Kakashi’s face reddened as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “You were on a pretty dangerous mission” he justified. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I, uh…” he continued. He couldn’t believe he was about to say what he did next, but the words were spilling out of his lips before he could stop them. “I still care a lot about you, Rei.”

               Sirens were blaring in the back of her mind. He was still in love with her, she just knew it. But then she felt terrible for the adverse mental reaction. She was such a hypocrite. Wasn’t she, technically, still in love with him, too? But no, this was all wrong. She couldn’t do this anymore. She had to stand firm on her promise to herself. She needed to become independent. She had to admit, however, that deep down her heart was fluttering. Smiling, she added softly, “Thank you for caring so much.”

               A warm, light feeling swelled up inside of him, and deep down something involuntarily screamed there is hope after all. The afternoon sun through the hospital window hit him just right so that if Rei looked at him too long, she’d start to feel dizzy. His fingers itched to intertwine with hers, his lips desperate to kiss her, but he would have to hold back. Voice soft and meaningful, all he could bring himself to say was, “It’s not a problem.”

[amaranthkick]

A Wolf and A Raven, Part 3

a hint of angst, fluff, and some explanations

(Part 1), (Part 2)

Shiro waited patiently at the steps to the building while Lance locked up for night. Two sets of footsteps could be heard running towards them.

 “Shiro!” The wolf instantly alert, that voice! It was Keith, the young man in question was running at full speed and Pidge was not too far behind.

 Keith knelt down in front of Shiro a firm hand on his shoulder, his grip tight as if to keep Shiro from disappearing again. Keith has never been the most affectionate person but Shiro could appreciate that he was trying his best. He could practically see the relief in his eyes. The younger man genuinely smiled probably for the first time in a long time. “It's good to have you back.” ‘It's good to be back,’ Shiro would tell him later.

 Keith stood up and turned towards Lance hand extended. “You're Lance, right? Keith. Thanks for taking care of Shiro.”

 Lance accepted and shook hands with him and grinned, “it was no problem he's super sweet. And also he's amazing, he recovered real fast.”

 It was all Shiro could do to keep his jaw from dropping. No, it wasn't me. It was you Lance, I just know it. He would have slapped a hand to his forehead if he could. Seriously, was the universe taunting him with this enigma?

 He was startled from his thoughts when Lance laid his soft hand on his head, apparently he, Keith and Pidge had finished conversing and were saying goodbyes. “See you later, Shiro. Take good care of yourself.” Lance smiled at him but it didn't reach his eyes and his eyes seemed tinged with sadness. He got up and left a little too quickly. That left Shiro with a pang in his chest. He could hardly focus when Keith and Pidge told him to follow them. They mumbled something about a castle full of lions? But at the moment all he could think about was how much he missed Lance.

 Black gracefully landed on Lance’s shoulder and chirped at him when he was all too quiet. There was a faint painful tugging in his chest that served to only reminded him of Shiro. “Sorry, Black. I just… I know that it would be easy for us to see each other again since Pidge knows Shiro. But… I don't know. I don't know what's going on. I just- I miss him.” Black cooed softly as if to comfort him as Lance wiped his misty eyes with his sleeve.

 Lance had forgotten tonight was movie night with Hunk when he opened to door to find his best friend waiting for him inside.

 Hunk took one look at Lance’s sagging form, eyes glazed over with tears, and rushed over to envelop him in a big hug. Lance hid his face in his shoulder which muffled his sobs. Hunk shushed and rubbed soothing circles on his back. “Aww bud, what's wrong?”

 “I don't know. I think- maybe I got too attached.”

 Hunk hummed, this didn't seem to be like those times when a patient died. He wanted to ask for an explanation but he could wait for Lance to be more emotionally stable for him to talk.

 “That’s it bud, just let it out. And when you're feeling empty I'll make you all your favorite dishes so you can fill your body and soul with comfort food while we watch The Great British Bake Off.” Hunk held him tighter a sure sign of loyal support.

 Lance let out a wet laugh, “Hunk… have I ever told you are the bestest friend a guy could ever ask for?”

 “Only every day, Lance.”

 “Even though you're pretty nosy and high-key suspicious of some of the strays I feed.” Hunk huffed but didn't stop hugging him.

The castle didn't have much lions, a part of Shiro felt disappointed though he wasn't completely sure what he was expecting. There were only five giant guardian lion statues ‘guarding’ the entrance. He could appreciate their fierce yet regal appearance.

 Pidge went ahead to inform the princess of their arrival. Meanwhile Keith led him to a bathroom to change to the spare clothes he brought.

 Ahh, to be in his human form again, it felt freeing to stretch his tense muscles. The mirror across from him drew his attention. He felt so self-conscious at what was staring back at him. He changed so much, muscles and scars gained from fighting for his life.

 Shiro heaved a heavy sigh, it was no use to think that way and tried to change his train of thought. Naturally it went to Lance, would he be disgusted by his appearance? Nah, he wasn't afraid of his wolf form so maybe he still could hope. Would Lance be able to tell that he and the wolf are really one in the same?

 He jumped at Keith's voice sharply cutting in asking if he was done.

Keith led him to a large dining area next. Near the long table in the center of the room was a composed, regal young woman with long, cloud-like, white hair in an elegant dress. He took a wild guess and assumed this was the princess. By her side was an elder man also in blue, his hair a bright orange. His well groomed moustache stood out as well.

 What was most striking was their pointed ears and marks just above their cheeks. Elves perhaps.

 The lady greeted him first. “I am princess Allura of Altea and this is my royal advisor Coran. We heard much about you from your friends. I know you just escaped captivity and the last place you want to be is anywhere near the galra however I must apologize for being blunt but could we ask for your aid in taking them down?”

 She was someone who got straight to the point. Although even if she seemed composed on the outside, Shiro had a hunch she was seething with anger on the inside. The galra must have done something terrible to her too. He guilty thought about Sam and Matt. They and so many other must still be suffering. He nodded, mind made up he would help any way he can.

 Allura smiled, “thank you, I- Coran! What are you doing?”

 The dapper man in question was circling around Shiro hmm-ing to himself like a shark carefully assessing its prey.

 Something had caught his attention and it clearly bothered him. Coran started cautiously, “Pidge and Keith has told me that you are an unbonded familiar correct?”

 “I- yes..?” He was supposed to be. He thought that he kept himself well guarded, surrounded himself with lonely, desperate walls. The air got stuck in Shiro’s throat and suddenly the space around him felt heavier, colder as if he was in the presence of a wraith.

 Coran looked straight at Shiro. “My boy it seems you've bonded with someone.”

 Shiro felt like someone punched the air out of his lungs. His mind already looking at the worst case scenarios. Did the galra succeed in forcing a bond on him? Terrible memories he tried to force down quickly resurfaced. How, with some horrific experimentation, some forcibly bonded familiars would lose themselves only to become mindless, savage monsters. Will that happen to him as well?

 All too soon there were hands on his shoulders and people calling his name. He took in a sharp breath. Shiro realized he was shaking, on the verge of hyperventilating. He saw Keith and Pidge at his sides, concern on their faces. Their touch was grounding. Allura and Coran stood close also concerned.

 “S-sorry,” he hated how weak and fragile he sounded.

 “Don't be, you got nothing to be sorry for.” Keith said voice steady and firm. Though he looked ready to fight every galra he could find.

 Coran cleared his throat to grab Shiro's attention, he looked at the young man apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Shiro. I didn't mean to cause a panic over my observation. Maybe I should have said this earlier but you don't have to worry much, the person you're bonded to doesn't seem to be a galra.”

 “Huh?”

 “Well us Alteans are sensitive to magical energies, quintessence if you will, though that also includes life force energies. And from what I've learned about bonds from a multitude of research documents is that there is a partial sharing of energies between familiar and their partner so that they mix and resonate and empower each other. The foreign energy I sensed in you Shiro doesn’t feel like any galra I've sensed before. And I would know they have a distinct feel to them.” Coran pulled on the collar of his suit quite sure of himself.

 Shiro could feel shoulders slouch in sheer relief but his mind kept running. If he wasn't bonded to a galra then who was he bonded to?

 Coran chuckled, the tense air around him faded as he was no longer serious and went back to his uplifting, silly self again. “Actually, the energy I sense is quite warm. Radiant like sunlight yet gentle like pure moonlight. If you concentrate hard enough I think you could feel it too and try to see who it reminds you of.”

 Shiro saw everyone give him encouraging nods so he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He felt a tugging in his chest and tried to follow it. He saw bright light behind a silhouette of a person reaching out to him. This scene seemed so familiar. Shiro wracked his brain to remember and he nearly yelled when it hit him. It was the his dream he had the night he escaped.

 “What dream?” Keith asked. Oh did Shiro say that out loud?

 “The one I had at… Lance’s hospital…” Uh-oh, Shiro broke into a cold sweat as the pieces fell into place.

 Pidge connected the dots just as he did and it left her wide-eyed and gaping. “Oh my gosh, you bonded to Lance! Whoa cool down there Keith, Lance most likely doesn't even know he participated in a bonding. He doesn't even know or believe in this stuff.”

 Shiro was conflicted, one part of him was happy to be bonded to someone as kindhearted as Lance but the rest of him was terrified he might inadvertently drag him into this messy war with the galra.

 Pidge lightly squeezed Shiro’s arm a sly, teasing smile on her face already thinking of a way to cheer him up. “Hey, you know the rumors that humans can possibly gain magic powers by forming a bond with a familiar?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Guess you were right when you asked if he could use magic since he probably has magic now due to your bond.”

 Shiro gasped and squinted his eyes, “I knew it! I knew he was the reason I recovered so fast! He has healing magic!” He savored the moment knowing he was right all along. His chest puffed out a little internally pleased with himself.

(Part 4)

[rhnuzlocke]

Episode 19

Scene 10:

[A little later into the evening, the argument has quieted down and the room is calm. Wallace does another scan to make sure that nothing is amiss and notices that both his milotic and Dizzy are gone. He grumbles and heads off to the west wing of the house. They are not in any of the adjoining parlors, but he finds both of them when he opens the door to the rear aquarium room. They seem to be talking quietly to each other, silhouetted against the light of the large cylindrical aquarium set into the back wall. The room is a full two stories tall with stone floors and the tank extends from floor to ceiling.]

Wallace: There you are, weird guy.

[The other two turn to look at him and Dizzy smiles.]

Dizzy: [dipping his head] Konbanwa. [in Kantonese] Peretau was showing me the tank. I hope that’s alright with you. Your feebas are so beautiful.

Wallace: [He blinks blankly at Dizzy before turning to his milotic.] What are you two doing back here?

Peretau: He wanted to see the children. He likes water pokemon and he’s never seen feebas or a milotic before. He thinks the children are pretty.

Wallace: How the heck do you know all of this?

Peretau: He told me.

Wallace: You mean you know Kantonese or whatever the hell he’s speaking? When did that happen?

Peretau: Of course not. I can just understand him when he speaks, like I understand you.

Wallace: [eyes narrowing] And you don’t find that the least bit strange or suspicious?

Peretau: [with a unconcerned toss of his fin] Perhaps it is a blessing of Lord Lugia. I didn’t ask.

Wallace: [crossing his arms] Hmm.

Dizzy: [pointing excitedly to a feebas with heart-shaped markings] This one is so cute! Look! She has little hearts all over her!

[Wallace of course has no idea what Dizzy is saying except that he seems very excited. He looks to his milotic for some kind of translation.]

Peretau: He likes Manawa.

[Dizzy has his face pressed up against the glass and the feebas eye him as they go by. He speaks soothingly to them in more unintelligible Katonese. Wallace’s expression softens ever so slightly as he watches this. Most people don’t appreciate feebas. He sighs.]

Wallace: Does he want to meet them?

[Peretau relays the invitation to Dizzy who nods vigorously, smiling broadly at Wallace again.]

Dizzy: Hai!

Wallace: [uncrossing his arms and waving around the side of the tank] Come on then.

[He walks around to a floating, glass staircase that spirals up behind the tank. They climb to a glass platform at the top that wraps around the edge of the tank. Wallace sits down on the edge and dangles his feet in the water. Dizzy crouches next to him and peers down into the tank. The feebas swim up to the top to greet them. Each pops its head out of the water or jumps out for a moment before diving back down. Dizzy actually giggles when the feebas with the heart markings splashes him in the face. He shakes the water off like a dog and Wallace leans away, looking a little disgusted. Peretau slithers up the steps and onto the platform behind them.]

Dizzy: [in Kantonese] May I swim with them?

[Peretau nods, but Dizzy jerks his head at Wallace, so the milotic repeats the question to him.]

Wallace: Sure.

[Dizzy pulls off his socks and dips his feet in. He scoots up to the edge and slides quietly in, sinking to near the bottom. Wallace watches as the feebas swirl around him. A bubble rises now and then as he swims in place. After several minutes that seem like an eternity, he surfaces with a gasp.]

Wallace: You sure can hold your breath.

Dizzy: [in Kantonese] They have such good manners. You raised them very well.

[Just then one of them nibbles his callused foot and he laughs and splutters as his mouth sinks below the surface for a moment. His head pops back above the water.]

Dizzy: [joking] I take it back.

Wallace: [frowning down at the feebas swimming tight circles around Dizzy and muttering] Stop flirting with him.

Peretau: Oh, let her do what she likes.

[Dizzy sinks back down into the tank.]

Peretau: Besides, he’s not so bad.

Wallace: [looking over at his milotic] His ninetails wouldn’t tell me anything. She almost got me in trouble with the Sekiei Champion. [watching Dizzy again] What do you like about him so much anyway?

Peretau: He’s polite, he has excellent taste, and he smells good.

[Wallace turns his head slowly back to his milotic.]

Wallace: [incredulous] What?

Peretau: He smells like the ocean. It’s nice.

[Wallace is about to say something else when Dizzy surfaces again and grins at Wallace. The feebas circles him. Wallace looks him up and down.]

Wallace: Manawa likes you.

Dizzy: [in Kantonese] Are you coming in?

[Once again Wallace doesn’t understand a word, but as Dizzy drifts backwards to give Wallace more space, his meaning is obvious. Wallace glances from his rather pleased looking milotic to Dizzy’s hopeful smile and shrugs. He takes off his shirt and Dizzy sinks almost to his eyes, which fails to hide the look on his face. Wallace rolls his eyes and slips into the water. Dizzy surfaces for a deep breath before following him down. The feebas are all gathered around Wallace. Dizzy spread-eagles and Manawa zips around his arms and legs before brushing up against his chest. Dizzy puffs out his cheeks and blows a big bubble. He smiles as the feebas swims through it. Wallace’s face twitches as he tries not to smile. He spreads his arms and the feebas line up on either side of him. He tilts his arms this way and that and the feebas stay in line with them. He makes a circle with his arms and the feebas form a circle around him. He whirls his arms and forms a circle in the other direction and the feebas spin like a wheel. Dizzy goes wide-eyed and Wallace can’t help but show off just a little bit more. He raises his arms and the feebas swim down. He lowers his arms to about forty-five degrees and the feebas swim beneath him and push him up, spiraling as they head for the surface. Dizzy surfaces a moment later.]

Dizzy: [appreciative murmur] Suteki.

[Wallace can sense praise even in another language and smiles. He takes a few deep breaths and dives back down. Dizzy follows him but we stay up on the surface where Peretau is watching them. Wallace shows off a bit more of his routine and Peretau dives in to join them, slopping water over the sides of the already full tank. He swirls in a graceful arc around his trainer before spiraling back to the surface. Wallace hitches a ride back up and onto the platform. Dizzy follows him and hauls himself out of the water with a great deal less grace. Wallace rings out his hair while Dizzy looks back down into the tank. Manawa jumps out of the water and into Dizzy’s lap. He is startled but manages to catch her and laughs.]

Dizzy: [cooing fondly in Kantonese] What are you doing? You are so cute! You know you can’t stay out here.

Wallace: Would you like to keep her?

Dizzy: [looking up at Wallace] Eh?

Wallace: She’s never taken to anyone like this.

Peretau: Would you take her on as your pokemon?

Dizzy: [in Kantonese] You’d let me do that?

Peretau: Of course. We have seen that you are a good trainer and she likes you. She’s very picky.

Dizzy: [in Kantonese] I would be honored. [bowing to Wallace and Peretau] Arigatōgozaimashita! [to the feebas] Would you like to come with us? [She wiggles her fins.] Wa ̄ i! I’ll call you Opal.

Peretau: [as Dizzy places the feebas in the tank] Oh, I like it. It suits her.

Dizzy: [looking back up at Wallace, his expression suddenly intense] Would you like to meet Lord Lugia?

Wallace: [inadvertently shying away from the intense eye-contact] What’s he saying now?

Peretau: He wants to know if we would like to meet Lugia.

[The three of them go out a side door and walk to the edge of the island near the house. Dizzy turns back to Wallace and his milotic for a moment and says something before he dives into the bay and disappears from sight. They wait for a few minutes before the water starts to glow. Wallace gapes as the massive pokemon rises from the water right in front of him. Dizzy slides down off of Lugia’s snout and onto the grass. Wallace’s eyes unfocus as he is enveloped by the god’s vast consciousness.]

Dizzy: Wallace, may I introduce Lord Lugia. Kamisama, this is Wallace.

Lugia: Good to meet you, Lorekeeper of the Sootopolins. We thank you for your help today.

Wallace: …How?

Lugia: [easily anticipating all of Wallace’s questions before he can ask them] I am translating for him. He is able to speak to pokemon by his own power. It is a passive psychic ability. He is able to use the moves of pokemon that he is soul-bonded with because I gifted him with the move assist. His natural abilities allow him to choose which move he wants to use rather than being subject to chance.

Wallace: [surprised] Oh… [looking rather sheepish] Thank you for telling me.

Lugia: Guard the knowledge well, Lorekeeper.

[Wallace looks very sheepish and his milotic laughs at him, covering it with his tail fin. Dizzy is all smiles as he places a hand on Lugia’s neck.]

[kat2609]

Need a Little Christmas (1/most likely 3) - A GFSS fic

SANDRA!!!!! You must have guessed it was me who was so super late at posting your GFSS present. I tried so hard to be timely but life and muses and holidays conspired to make that impossible. But finally the first part of your gift, my lovely @laschatzi - a bit of banter, a bit of humour (I hope), some silly outfits and hopefully a tiny bit in the gutter direction eventually :-) 

(PS - I had a go at the world’s simplest heading banner thingy. The visuals helped in writing, hopefully they will help in reading too!)

Need a Little Christmas

There were a number of things that Emma Swan did not enjoy about Christmas.

Untangling herself from the myriad of fairy lights her sister-in-law insisted on stringing across her apartment; finding new and unusual places to hide slices of Granny’s rock-hard fruitcake; avoiding handsy Uncle Leroy any time she found herself under the mistletoe.

There was, however, one notable exception...not that she would ever, ever admit it.

As far as her friends were concerned, Emma’s choice of Christmas wear was 100% a political statement on the ridiculousness of holiday consumerism, or the wasteful nature of Christmas decorations or whatever other tenuous link to a cause she was able to create on the spur of the moment.

In reality, however - Emma Swan loved the kitschy glory of a truly awful Christmas sweater. Adored the scratchy feel of acrylic, the garish reds and greens accented with the tackiest of tinsels. It was everything that she wanted to think of Christmas as being - fun and whimsical and joyful - and everything her actual memories were not.

But somehow, regaling the gathered Christmas crowd with sad tales of your childhood in the foster care system did nothing for the ambience around the dinner table - so half assed political statements it was.

Tonight’s offering was particularly spectacular, if she said so herself; an especially potent shade of green, offset with clashing red patterns and finished with a dainty Peter Pan collar, embroidered with holly. Only a tiny sliver of garish green had alerted her to its presence - but that was all it took for Emma to know she had found a prize. The internet was awash with ugly sweaters these days, she knew, but there was something about the hunt, the methodical search and recover operation of finding the perfect item in a thrift store that appealed to Emma’s determined soul. Emma Swan always got her mark - in work and in holiday festivities and that wasn’t about to change because #uglyxmassweater was now a thing.

Throwing aside a collection of hand knitted scarves, she reached for the trophy, only to find herself engaged in a tug of war with a man on the other side of the bin. Tugging the sleeve towards her sharply, he lost his footing, tumbling slightly before letting go of the sweater and steadying himself against the metal cage. Long fingers grasped the metal, a silver ring on his thumb catching her eye as he righted himself.

“Steady on,” he huffed, eyes following the green acrylic as Emma slid it subtly towards herself. “No need to injure a man over a pullover, love. I’m sure you can find one equally as hideous elsewhere.”

Ignoring the unexpected jolt of attraction she felt at the soft cadence of his accent, Emma tangled her fingers in the sleeve of the sweater, staking her claim unequivocally, and raised her eyes defiantly to his. Dark hair framed a pair of stupidly blue eyes, one eyebrow quirked up in question as he stared back. There was the briefest moment when Emma was sure he had heard the tiny catch in her breath as she took in the soft curl of his lip and the dark scruff that covered his jaw - a tiny second of regret that she had come across him here in broad daylight and not in a dive bar late one night where the options for proceeding were far more varied.

But Emma Swan was Emma Swan - and meet-cutes were decidedly NOT a thing she did.

“Yeah, well, possession is nine-tenths, buddy,” she snapped, reeling in the sweater and stuffing it under her arm. “So looks like you’ll be the one looking elsewhere.” She paused, all but daring him to respond. “And I’m not your love.”

Before he could utter another word, she turned on her heels and made for the register, all but throwing five dollars at the unsuspecting cashier in her haste to escape.

~~~**~~~

The near radioactive gleam of Christmas lights left no doubt as to where the evening’s festivities would be taking place. Emma hesitated as she reached to press the doorbell, unsure she wanted to hear which Christmas standard was set to be butchered by the chimes this year. Sighing, she pressed the button.

Good King Wenceslas, it seemed.

She supposed she should be grateful that David answered the door promptly, despite his loud snort of amusement as he greeted her.

“Classy, Em, even for you,” he said as he ushered her inside, taking her coat and hanging it behind the door. “I especially like the way not one of those patterns match.”

She smiled knowingly at David, picking an imaginary fleck of the checkerboard section of her top. “As you should know by now, David,” she replied, “It’s not about matching. It’s about the…” Emma faltered, distracted momentarily by a sudden memory of just how she had come to own this particular item.

“The all-encompassing consumer machine that is holiday festivities?” her brother finished with a grin.

Saved by her own cover story, she thought. “Exactly.”

Following David into the living room, Emma looked around at the assembled crowd. After several years, the actual ugly sweater part of this annual gathering had lost some momentum - in no small part, she suspected to her own loud rants on the futility of the subject - but there were still one or two guests in various degrees of festive finery. Before she could make a frank assessment of just how superior her own sweater was to all the others in attendance, she was enveloped in her sister-in-law’s arms.

“Emma!” Snow cried as she hugged her as tightly as her heavily pregnant belly would allow. She leaned back, taking in Emma’s outfit and giggling, straightening the white collar. “You’ve done it again,” she chuckled, “I think this is the best one yet. And not a natural fibre to be seen I imagine?”

Emma shook her head, unable to keep the hint of pride out of her eyes.

Snow narrowed her eyes at Emma. “For all your anti statements, I sometimes think you secretly love these hideous things,” she said suspiciously. Emma stood her ground, her face neutral as her sister-in-law studied her closely for several minutes. It was a close won battle of wills, but eventually Snow turned away, though with no less suspicion in her eyes.

Somehow her innate hostess sense always won the day - a fact on which Emma relied quite regularly.

“You need a drink,” she said, looking back at Emma over her shoulder as she weaved through the guests, acknowledging this one and that with a look or a soft touch on the arm or shoulder. Emma followed silently, smiling at the odd familiar face, but with none of the social grace of her sister-in-law. As they reached the kitchen, Snow called to her husband. “David! Have you got a drink for Emma?

“Sure thing, honey,” he replied, his smile soft as he met his wife’s eyes. “Let me just get this beer for Killian.” It would be nauseating, Emma thought, if they weren’t so damned perfect about it, but it was times like these her adopted status came sharply into focus. David’s capacity to love and be loved was in stark contrast to her own “love ‘em and leave ‘em” approach to life.

But she was not allowed to ponder her inadequacies for long.

“Oh yes,  Emma,” Snow gushed, her violet eyes twinkling ominously. “We have to introduce you to Killian.”

“You really don’t…” Emma started, but to no avail. Snow had already grasped her by the elbow and maneuvered her towards the end of the counter, with barely a chance to take the beer David thrust at her. Whoever Killian was, he was slouched at the end of the island bench, his back to Emma and Snow as they approached, his form-fitting black jeans enough of a distraction to keep Emma from disappearing into the crowd when Snow wasn’t looking.

He was clearly another of the Christmas sweater set, the bright green of his top unmistakeable for clothing of any other kind despite the way it pulled tight across the breadth of his shoulders - not that Emma noticed - a fact that was confirmed as Snow called his name and the buck-toothed reindeer head that adorned the front came into view.

Emma’s immediate thought was that she finally had some competition...until her eyes scanned up to meet his and her thinking went suddenly somewhere very different.

“Emma Swan, meet Storybrooke Elementary’s newest staff member, Killian Jones,” Snow chirped, clearly so certain some kind of rainbow magic true love flash was about to wash over them she failed to notice the colour drain from Emma’s face.

Or the smirk on Killian’s.

“Ah, but Emma and I have already had the pleasure,” he said smoothly, his eyes never leaving Emma’s face. “And I must say, love, your tactics may have been underhanded, but the whole effect -” he waved a hand at her sweater - “it’s nothing short of spectacular.”

No amount of sheer will could force down the red flush that Emma could feel creeping up her neck as she tried to look anywhere but at her two current companions. She wasn’t sure which was worse - Killian’s amused smile or the curious yet decidedly smug grin on Snow’s face.  

“Well I’m not sure what we’re talking about,” Snow chuckled, “but it sounds like you two have some catching up to do, so I’ll leave you to it. Bye.” She was gone with a twinkle of her fingers and an air of smug self-satisfaction, leaving Emma to stand gaping at the newcomer.

If he had been attractive in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the thrift store, he was quite something else among the twinkly lights and Christmas decorations of Snow and David’s apartment, despite the huge cartoonish reindeer taking up residence on his chest. Flecks of ginger in his beard caught the soft light and his blue eyes sparkled mischievously, giving Emma little doubt he was completely aware of the effect he was having on her.

“Still not your love,” she managed to respond, the harsh edge to her voice a futile attempt to deny the very real urge to launch herself at him; an urge lessened not at all by the way his tongue swept his top lip as he watched her.

And then, unexpectedly, he changed the subject; the heat in his gaze melting into something very different. Something relaxed and open and somehow far more frightening than blown pupils and quickened breaths.

“Well, Swan,” he said, with an easy smile that Emma couldn’t help but return, despite her unease at this sudden change in the temperature of their encounter. “It’s fortuitous you won our battle, it appears. I’d failed to notice that fetching collar and I have some doubt as to whether I could have carried that look off.”

This was new; this casual charm that made Emma feel comfortable and confused all at once. Heat and raw animal attraction she understood, she knew how to scratch that itch and move on. But this? This felt like more than a prelude to a quick fuck against a wall somewhere and that was terrifying in so many ways.

Sarcasm and snark had always proved effective in the past - why should now be any different?

“And you decided a big ugly reindeer would be what? Super masculine?” she said sharply.

Killian chuckled, clearly nonplussed by her abrasive responses. It was a rich, warm sound that made Emma want little more than to hear it again. “I don’t know, Swan. I thought he was rather dashing myself.“

She arched an eyebrow at the word choice and he laughed again. “Sorry?” he said in a tone that suggested he was anything but.

Taking a long swig of her beer, Emma looked across at a Snow and David, both in an animated conversation with a small group of friends. She envied them their natural ability to do that - to melt seamlessly into a group of people and feel at home. Unlike her, always looking for the other person’s angle and making sure she was gone before they inevitably screwed her over.

The fact she was still standing next to a ridiculously attractive man, having a normal conversation with no sign of impending hook up, was some kind of Christmas miracle in itself.

“Swan?” Jolted back to reality by his hand on her arm, Emma realised Killian had been speaking to her.

“Sorry, what?” she said, kicking herself for the stab of disappointment as he withdrew his fingers.

“Just pondering what type of person adds that collar to a pullover that is already such a visual delight.”

She breathed a sigh of relief - they were still in comfortable territory; frivolous, possibly flirty banter about knitwear was doable, especially if she managed to avoid the way his smile lit up his eyes as he looked at her. As long as they were nothing more than two ships passing in the night, there was nothing wrong with enjoying the company of a ridiculously handsome man at least for a little while.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me who added it,” she said, fingering the white fabric at her neck. “But when is a Peter Pan collar ever wrong?”

Emma wasn’t sure what reaction she expected to her challenge - but it was definitely not the flash of pain that she saw in his eyes. It passed in mere seconds, almost too fast to be sure it was real.

“Ah, well, if that is its name, all the more reason it was meant for you rather than myself,” Killian said softly.

Emma scrunched her nose in confusion and he raised the arm that had been hidden from her view, leaning on the countertop. Instead of the long, slender fingers with their heavy silver rings that had rested on her arm only minutes before, this arm ended instead in a silver hook prosthetic.

“Funnily enough, Swan, I have something of an aversion to references to that particular tale these days. A little close to home, you might say.” He chuckled darkly, none of the light and warmth that had drawn her in before evident in the sound. He took a long drag from the neck of his beer, and with nothing she could think of to say, Emma followed suit.

The noises of the party were suddenly very loud in Emma's head, her mind swimming as they stood side by side in silence. Wishing desperately once again for the social skills of her sister-in-law, or even her slightly less tactful brother, the words flew from her mouth before she had considered their potential result.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He laughed drily once again. “Not even a little bit, Swan. And I suspect you have no desire to do so either.”

The squawk of protest died on her lips, the expression on Killian’s face making it clear he had all but seen inside her very thoughts. “Don’t think I didn’t see that moment of panic in your eyes, love. You’re something of an open book.”

“Am I?” Emma asked, unable to keep the genuine curiosity from her voice. Or to curb the tingling sense that he wasn’t being quite truthful when he said he didn’t want to talk.  

“Quite,” Killian replied. “Forced introductions to random strangers, for instance, are not your chosen way to spend an evening.”

It was Emma’s turn to laugh. “Are they anyone’s?”

“Typically I’d agree with you, Swan, but I must say tonight I am seeing the appeal.” The catch in her breath was involuntary. If his words weren’t enough to bring her to a halt, the sincerity of his tone certainly was. This was dangerous territory now - too perceptive, too honest, too many feelings she was one hundred percent not going to act on.

There was only one thing for it.

“I think I need another drink. You?” she asked. Denial - denial and alcohol - both viable solutions and potential exit strategies.

She hadn’t counted on Killian Jones.

“I have that covered, love,” he said, reaching under his sweater and extracting a small, silver flask. A practised flick of the thumb had the stopper out and he offered it to her. “After you.”

She sniffed at the neck of the flask before taking a delicate swig. “Is that rum?” she asked, the liquid warming her throat as she passed the flask back to him.

“Aye.”

Emma snorted as Killian took a significantly longer draught. With one eyebrow quirked in question, he looked curiously at her as she held back the urge to chuckle. “Yeah, great job on avoiding the Peter Pan references. Next you’ll tell me you have a ship stashed away somewhere.”

He looked sheepish, passing back the flask and scratching nervously at a spot behind his ear as Emma took another quick sip.

“You do, don’t you?” she said incredulously.

He said nothing, only nodded and drank again from the flask before looping the stopper back into the neck and securing it with the curve of his hook.

“You are not even trying. You may as well get the perm and a twirly moustache and be done with it. In fact, I think I’ll call you Captain from now on…” She trailed off, wondering just how potent that rum had been to loosen her tongue so significantly. Struck suddenly by the insensitivity of her patter, she looked at him cautiously, her teeth worrying her lip between them.

He was grinning.

“Sorry, Killian, I…” she began, but he cut her off.

“No apologies necessary, Swan,” he said quickly. “And I believe you intended to call me Captain?”

Emma laughed, throwing him a mock salute as she leaned back against the counter. They stood in silence for a few minutes - a comfortable silence that was somehow becoming less frightening and more reassuring the longer she spent in his presence.

And that should have been scary enough to send her out the door and into the night.

But instead she stood alongside him, so close their acrylic-clad arms were almost touching, the spark of something that might have been static electricity, and yet might not have been, between them and just let the first thing she thought of break the silence.

As did he.

“I’ve always wanted to go on…”

“Perhaps you’d like to…”

They both stopped, laughed, and gestured for the other to go first...until Emma heard her name called across the room.

David appeared out of nowhere, his phone at his ear as he stepped up to them. Concern on his face, he finished hit the end call button and spoke to Emma. “Fight broke out at the Rabbit Hole,” he said. “Sorry to ask this, but I hope that sweater of yours is up to some police work? Wrangling Will Scarlett might be more than a one man job.”

There was a tinge of regret in her expression as she turned to Killian. “Duty calls, I’m afraid,” she said. “Scarlett had better not damage this sweater, or there will be no Merry Christmas for him.”

Killian grinned. “Feel free to leave it with me, love. I’ll take good care of it.”

Narrowing her eyes at him, Emma smoothed her hands across her sweater protectively. “Nice attempt at plundering, pirate, but I’ll take my chances. See you round, Captain.”

There was laughter in his voice as he answered. “I’d imagine so Swan. You’ll be hard to miss if you dress like that on a regular basis.”

She was smiling as she turned and walked away.