#And all of the glorious downs and resurfacings and downs this week

[thepsychewrites]

The Complexities of a Black Hole — Pt. Two

A Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Series

Summary: You and Bucky leave for Wakanda, only he doesn’t know you’ve tagged along.

Warnings: This series and my entire blog is 18+ ONLY. MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. Frequent use of heavy and descriptive language. Mentions of sedation and anxiety drugs, brief/vague mention of a needle, brief mention of blood and violence, self deprecating thoughts, allusions to depression, angst, fluff, a tired and hangry Bucky (yes it needs a warning).

Word Count: 4K

A/N: GUESS WHAT TIME IT IS?? TCOABH TIME!! Yes, I’m aware I suck and this is a few days behind schedule BUT I’ve been adjusting to some new meds this week and I’ve been getting so much done (including prepping for my uni finals) that posting this was at the very back of my mind all week :,) BUT ITS HERE, and I’m excited for y’all to read this part <3 ENJOY BABES🫶🏼😚

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Series Masterlist

Wakanda.

Fifteen minutes ago you had never even heard of the place, but now the word rattled around in your brain, pestering you with each passing second.

Wakanda.

A concealed nation hidden deep between the vast mountain ranges and lush forests of eastern Africa, and home to the most scientifically advanced technologies the world had ever known. It was a place of serenity and hope, a glimpse into a glorious future. From what T’Challa, the man in the burgundy outfit, had said of it, Wakanda was a place that could heal even the most damaged of souls. A place of permanent renewal.

A place to start over.

They want to take Bucky to Wakanda.

Despite the method being meticulous and requiring careful execution, T’Challa described a way to rid Bucky’s head of the words that plagued him. The words that sent him on a rampage. The words that made him fight a war that could never be won.

There was just one stipulation.

Bucky would have to live in Wakanda for the time being.

T’Challa couldn’t give an estimate on the exact length of the stay, saying it might only take weeks, or if the treatment didn’t work as planned, possibly even months or as long as a year. There was an isolation period Bucky would have to endure first, the details of that part vaguely stated. A look crossed Steve’s face at the mention of it, somewhere between apprehension and uncertainty, but he would have to lock away his doubts for now. They’d have time to resurface if things went south.

You couldn’t bear the idea of going months without seeing Bucky, the thought alone making your stomach churn. He’s been your closest friend since joining the team… the person you’ve spent so much time with, shared so many memories with. It would be unbearable. You knew it would be for the best, Bucky needed help. But it didn’t make the idea any more tolerable.

To add onto that hurt — Bucky was refusing to see you. He had apparently been awake for a few hours now, only allowing Dr. Cho and Steve to be around him. It’s nothing to do with you, Steve said during one of the many times he came back to check up on you, he just needs time.

Now, standing a few yards away, Steve and T’Challa quietly discussed the process of moving Bucky to Wakanda. The less-than-subtle glances both men were sending to where you sat didn’t go unnoticed. You were sure they could feel the anxiety radiating from you, the wringing of your hands and the bounce of your legs giving it away completely. But each time they looked over at you it made that feeling grow tenfold. Were they talking about you? Were they getting annoyed at your incessant stare on their backs? Did they think you were eavesdropping?

Finally, the quick glances turned into full on eye contact from Steve, T’Challa patting his shoulder before swiftly departing, walking back toward the center of the Compound. Steve waited to speak until he sat down beside you, a comforting hand landing on your knee.

“He thinks this could really work.” Steve started, his focus trailing to your overly-bitten bottom lip. “But… there’s something else.”

You perked up at his words, brows knitted in confusion. “What is it?”

“T’Challa thinks it could be beneficial for Bucky to have a friend there with him. A familiar face.” Steve was treading lightly, unsure of how to ask a favor of this caliber. “Someone to help so he doesn’t get so… lonely.” He released a heavy sigh, looking right into your eyes. “When Bucky first got here… he followed me around like a lost puppy. Where I went, Bucky went. What I did, Bucky did. It took him weeks to finally feel safe enough to sleep in his own room. I don’t want him to feel abandoned again. And I would go, or have Sam go, but…”

“You have a lot going on here.” You finished for him, understanding where he was coming from. Steve was constantly needed, and even if he didn’t want to admit it, he was the glue to this team. If he were to leave to keep Bucky company, the sturdy structure he had built around this place would surely crumble.

Steve found both of your hands, pulling them into your lap and closing them in on his large ones. “I think you should go to Wakanda with him.” He finally blurted out. “T’Challa said his sister would be ecstatic to have someone so versed in astrophysics around. Plus, I think Bucky would much prefer to have you tag along than Sam or myself.”

His volume lowered to a whisper. “He seems to have grown pretty fond of you. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever seen Buck so… at ease around someone else.”

Mentally cursing at how right Steve was, you hoped he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks from his statement. It was evident there was another implicative remark lingering on his tongue, but he slowly closed his mouth before it could spring free.

Were the feelings you harbored so deep in your soul for one of your closest friends that obvious to everyone else? Maybe it was for the best that Steve stopped while he was ahead, because should he have let the words come to fruition, there’d be no hiding from the truth.

Because how could you blatantly deny the fact that you felt something more for Bucky? You’d walk to the edge of the universe and back for the man, so of course you’d stay with him in Wakanda. Time wasn’t a factor. Whether it took thirty days or thirty years, you’d go if asked. And this wasn’t something you were willing to pass up.

“You don’t think he’ll be mad if I come along? I mean… he isn’t really up to talking to me now. You know better than anyone how he gets about this stuff. Bucky’s always worried about people seeing him in a bad light, and I don’t want him to be upset with me.”

“Can I tell you a little secret?” Steve leaned in close as if he was relaying exclusive information. “Bucky could never be upset with you. You said it yourself, I know him better than most. So believe me when I say that he’d never hold anything against you.” His eyes caught yours in a sincere look. “You should go with him.”

You took a second to breathe, trying to digest all of this chaos at once. It was making your head spin, but it was obvious what your decision would be.

“When do we leave?”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Two hours later you left your bedroom, most of your belongings stuffed in three large suitcases and one duffel bag. You decided to leave behind most of your unnecessary trinkets and memorabilia, only bringing along the most important, top priority things… if a stuffed animal lion and your endless amount of journals counted as top priority. Finding your way to the hangar of the Compound, your stomach lurched at the reminder of events that occurred only hours prior. Visions of Bucky being dragged through, his head hanging down and blood dripping from his sides. It seemed like an absurd renaissance painting you’d see in the Louvre, taking your time to gasp and stare at its gruesomeness. Yet you were certain you would never be able to rid your mind of that memory.

Two gigantic aircrafts were stationed in the hangar, a woman standing outside of each, their heads shaved and their chins held high. Both were holding spears, a stoic expression on their face. Steve was talking to Sam outside the smaller of the two aircrafts, their conversation cutting off as you neared.

“Heard you were leavin’ too, Y/n.” Sam said as he wrapped his arms around you, swaying a bit as he held you close. He always gave the best hugs, besides Bucky of course, something you had realized very early on in your time with the team. “Wanted to see you off.” With a quick squeeze he let go, looking down at you with glossy eyes. The two of you had grown quite close in the last few months, so he wasn’t just losing Bucky for the time being, but you as well.

To quell your own tears, you playfully bumped his shoulder with your fist. “You better come and visit, Sammy. You know I can’t go that long without seeing your annoying face.”

That lightened the mood, both Sam and Steve laughing at your words. “I’ll come see you as soon as I’m allowed.” He assured.

The air seemed to grow thick as you looked at Steve, his head hanging low but his eyes trained on you. “You ready?”

Truthfully, no, you weren’t ready to leave your home behind. Sure, you had said your goodbyes to the rest of your friends and team earlier, and sure you had most of your things packed for this departure. But there never comes a time in life when you’re truly ready for anything, right?

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

With one hand on your back and his other reaching for the handle of your largest suitcase, he led you onto one of the jets, another woman stationed inside with her back to you. The craft was astonishingly advanced, fitted with a dark clean and sleek interior, making Stark’s quinjets look puny and outdated in comparison.

You could feel the soft humming of the jet rumbling beneath your shoes, the actual sound far too quiet to register in your ears. The inside was glowing with soft hues of orange and blue, strips of soft light wrapping around the center of the jet where plush seats stuck out. There was just enough light to see your way around, but not enough to strain your eyes. Dark wood paneling decorated the interior, carved out from a tree probably native to Wakanda, as you couldn’t place the grain elsewhere. The woman standing inside turned to you and introduced herself as Nakia, a friend of T’Challa’s. You could tell she was curious, her eyes studying you intensely. Her head was covered in a green print scarf, a beaded necklace holding the same shades of emerald laying flat against the bottom of her neck. She, along with the woman who stood guard outside, Okoye, as she was soon introduced, would be the ones taking you to Wakanda.

Okoye smelled of orchids, her presence warm and comforting. Tattoos marked her shaved scalp, the dark lines curving over her head in an intricate pattern. You quickly learned she was the general for Wakanda’s elite group of royal warrior guards, the Dora Milaje, her status most likely portrayed within the tattoo. She wore numerous gold bands around her neck, the precious metal dripping down further in platings that covered her shoulders and arms. They spoke briefly of their home, their words continuing to fill you with hope, your body feeling lighter and lighter by the second.

Steve said a quick goodbye, as he would be leaving on the other aircraft with a sedated Bucky, T’Challa, and another royal guard. The flight to Wakanda would only take a few hours, Nakia relayed, as the jet was apparently able to travel at incredibly high speeds. You pondered over the logistics, but there were many things in life that existed and were plausible far beyond your comprehension, so you ultimately let that thought fade out as you took a seat near the cockpit.

“So your friend,” Nakia broke the short bout of silence as Okoye got comfortable in the pilot chair, the jet slowly starting to move forward. “How long have you known him?” She didn’t have to name Bucky for you to know that’s who she was referring to.

“About eight months now. Kinda seems like a lifetime, though.” You laughed softly, wringing your hands together as they sat tense in your lap. You wished more than anything you could see him right about now, knowing he was freaking out internally about this whole fiasco. Bucky hated when everyone’s attention was turned on him, even the good kind of attention. He always felt scrutinized under people’s heavy glares, and despite being over six feet tall and possessing a body close to that of Hercules, he had become a master at making himself look small and non-threatening during times like this. But just as a fully grown saint bernard cannot shrink to the size of a chihuahua, Bucky could only do so much to hide himself away from the judgment the world pressed upon him.

“He must mean a great deal to you if you’re coming all the way to Wakanda for him.” Nakia remarked. From your peripheral, you noticed Okoye shaking her head at Nakia’s words. She was a curious woman indeed.

But, as much as you wanted to deny what she was insinuating, you couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “He’s one of my best friends. I couldn’t not come, you know? Bucky has a long road ahead of him, and I want to be there to help however I can.”

“You are a good friend. I am sure he will be thankful that you are accompanying him.” Okoye interjected, her gaze steady and facing the open sky. She let her words settle before speaking again. “We will reach home by nightfall. Try to get some sleep, both of you.”

Okoye was right. You were creeping on two days with no sleep, a drowsiness deeply settled in your bones from the lack of shut eye. Watching Nakia as she laid out across the seats opposite of you, you sent her a tight lipped smile before resting your head against the wall. You bent your knees close to your chest, your hands sandwiched between, and let the promises of Wakanda lull you to sleep.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

There was a cruelness that Bucky’s mind possessed, and recently its main goal was to taunt him at every turn.

He was the elephant in the room. The burden those around him had to help carry. The man that deserves no sympathy.

So why did they want to help him now? After he relapsed again and nearly tore his two friends to shreds? His arm was gone, the appendage he had come to resent – a weapon given to him, revealed as if it were a birthday gift… as if it were something he should be thankful for. Bucky was only thankful when it was forcefully ripped from his shoulder, the pain amounting to nothing compared to the relief that filled him when he looked over to see it dangling in Steve’s hands. Even if that relief was short-lived.

Now all he could feel was dread.

His body was feather-light, having been pumped with anxiety medication to keep his restlessness at bay. On the other hand, his eyes were practically nailed shut, the meds forcing him to sleep off the events of the last thirty six hours.

But even as he floated in and out of reality and a dark, dreamless state, the dread that clung to his limbs weighed him down. He was basically a brick being cemented into place. Bucky didn’t even realize that the stealthy aircraft carrying him like precious exotic cargo to Wakanda had landed, too drugged out to feel more than a distant beating of what he could only assume was his half-dead heart.

It was only when he heard the familiar rumble of Steve’s voice did he slightly perk up from his hunched over state.

“Buck? Buck…” Steve slowly called for the umpteenth time, his arm stretched out and gently patting Bucky’s back. “Bucky, we’re here.”

A pinhole of white flooded into Bucky’s pupils, the dim lighting of the jet's interior still too much for Bucky to adjust to. His hand automatically attempted to shield the source, but the pinhole only grew wider. It took a second, but once it clicked that Bucky was trying to block the light with his left hand and not his still-in-tact right, his face burned with embarrassment. Too groggy from the drugs, he opted to give up, blindly relying on Steve to help him sit upright and stand, the entirety of his weight pushed into Steve’s side as they stumbled off the aircraft.

Wakandan air smelled sweet in the spring. Like the runny nectar of a honeysuckle blossom, it was almost tangible, the sweetness. It’s the first thing Bucky noticed as his feet hit flat, solid ground. Socks — they had literally left Bucky in only a thick pair of black wool socks, his toes digging into the smooth, frictionless floor below him to stabilize his movements. A babbling river rushed by somewhere in the far distance, his senses heightened as his eyes were still slammed shut.

In a few seconds Bucky had gone from leaning against Steve to sitting down in a cushioned chair, his body no longer weighing heavy on his bones. He didn’t like this, incoherently muttering, “I can walk,” as his head lulled to the side before he jerked it upright. “Stop it — Steve stop, m’fine… lemme walk.” Bucky snapped impatiently, knowing it was Steve pushing him from behind in whatever wheelchair they shoved him in. Bucky thought he had protested a bit more, but he could feel his teeth scraping against one another as he grinded them together in his mouth while they entered an elevator of some sort.

Steve was talking to someone in the elevator, probably T’Challa, Bucky thought, as his hearing was still muddled and his brain foggy. He had quickly ditched the attempt to open his eyes fully, settling for the dull shadows he could see behind his eyelids instead.

At the faint ding of an elevator bell, some commotion started, a few people came to ask Steve mindless questions, and the sterile smell of a laboratory invaded Bucky’s nose. He didn’t notice being moved from the wheelchair, nor being laid in an observation bed of some sort. At one point he swore he felt a few pricks and prods across his forearm and hand, but he gave it little thought as he swam in and out of consciousness.

This time the sleep he fell into wasn’t dark and desolate like before. He wasn’t floating in empty space. This time he heard a voice soothing his nerves, a sweet voice of something familiar. A voice that belonged to an angel, perhaps, something gentle and reassuring, cooing at him from nearby. An image was conjured before him, something pulled right from his memories, as he had been there before. He wasn’t alone in some tiny laboratory bed, no. Bucky was back in your room at the Compound, the flickering scenes of The Princess Bride playing on in the back as you laid against his side, commanding his attention whether you realized it or not. Never once in the last seventy years had Bucky dreamt of something so pleasant, so calm. He wanted to stay here forever, in your room, on top of your bedsheets, right next to you. So, he stayed. Bucky stayed in that memory for as long as he could hold onto it.

When he finally woke a few hours later, Bucky swore he could smell your perfume as if it was lingering in the air around him still.

“Morning pal.” Bucky heard from outside the room he was in.

He quickly sat up at the sound of Steve’s voice, carefully scanning around the room and taking in his surroundings.

Plain white walls. A full size bed pushed into the corner where he currently laid, a blue and red quilted blanket strewn overtop of him. A door leading to a small bathroom in the suite was to his right. A quaint desk was pushed against the wall opposite his bed, a stack of books, a leather bound journal, some stationary, boxes of puzzles, a small Philco tabletop radio, and a lamp organized on it. One window jutting out next to the bed directed Bucky to a stunning view of the Wakandan landscape and the nature that lies beyond, and one long rectangular window was placed in the wall that faced the hallway of the laboratory. One door that led out was directly in front of the bed a few feet away, a small window carved near its top and an opening at its bottom.

Food, Bucky thought, That’s what it’s for. His stomach rumbled at the reminder of the calories he had not eaten in God knows how long.

Bucky glanced back toward the faint voice, finally seeing Steve standing stoic outside the window near the door, his hands shoved in the tight pockets of his jeans. “How are you feeling?” Steve asked, his expression never wavering.

“Tired.” Bucky answered, a short truth being all he could manage for the time being. He tried to gather himself a little more, but Steve caught his attention once again.

“Are you hungry?”

Bucky’s head picked up, his eyes set on Steve’s. “Starving.” He called. Bucky watched as Steve reached down, light pouring in from the opening at the bottom of his door as a tray of food slid across the floor toward the bed. Bucky perked up at once, throwing the quit to the side as he stood up for the first time in hours. He swayed slightly, gaining some stability as the smell of the food penetrated his senses. He grabbed the tray from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, inspecting it.

A large, still sizzling steak was cut into bite sized pieces, paired with steaming mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables that gathered along the side of the plate. Also on the tray was a cup of applesauce, two oranges, and a bottle of water. Bucky promptly dug in, using the plastic utensils to shovel the food in his mouth. Through his bites he kept glancing at Steve, waiting for something else to come from the man. But, being as considerate as he was, Steve stood in silence and waited for Bucky to finish his meal.

Bucky chewed down the last of the green veggies, sipping his water quickly before wiping his lips off with the sleeve of his shirt. “So, what’s my sentence?” He asked jokingly, but still curious to how long they wanted to keep him locked away in this room to observe him.

“Fourteen days, Buck. Try to think of it as a break… a short vacation if you will.” Steve tried to reason.

“Oh, yeah. All the best vacations are spent locked indoors being watched like a hawk twenty-four-seven for two weeks straight.” Bucky huffed, turning his head to gaze outside the window. “But at least I got the best view in town.” The jungle outside vibrated with life, a low mist flowing through the tall trees, large soaring birds squawking in the distance.

“If this is what they think is best, I’ll get through it. I want these words out of my head… for good.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, taking in Steve’s large frame as he peered in at Bucky like he was looking at a sickly dog at the pound.

Steve nodded. “You’ll get through it. You’ve gotten through worse.”

The two men shared a comfortable silence. But another sentence lingered on Steve’s tongue. He watched in as Bucky dropped his head, the stump that was left of his silver arm laying stiff against his side.

Maybe Steve should keep this to himself, maybe it was better if Bucky didn’t know.

“Also,” Shit – the word slipped out of Steve’s mouth too quickly to swallow it back down.

When Steve refrained from saying more, Bucky got impatient.

“What is it, punk?”

Steve pushed his hands further into his pockets. “I uh,” He cleared his throat next, attempting to buy time or find something rather unimportant to say instead.

Bucky raised his brows, his heart beginning to pound louder from this odd behavior. Steve had to spill.

“I didn’t come alone.”

PART TWO PLAYLIST

🌿Songs that inspired this series🌿

— Spiriteaux

By Tony Anderson

— Welcome to the Jungle

By Novo Amor

— In Between Breaths

By SYML

— Still

By Ola Gjelio

I recommend listening to the songs in order as shown above. A master playlist will be linked at the end of the series.

Spotify Link to Chapter Two Playlist

[lindsaystravelblogs1]

Days 46-47 - Aborted Landings

Day 46, Monday, 30 January 2023

Why was there land outside our window when we woke up today?  It was a puzzle.  If we were travelling west along the ice-shelf and our cabin in on the starboard side, the ice-shelf should be on the port side.  We eventually discovered that we were actually not sailing west.  We were in the huge Bay of Whales, heading south with the eastern shore of the Bay outside our window.  

The ship slowly sailed south as far as it could - to 78 degrees 44 Minutes South – blocked only by a few thousand kilometres of 40-metre-high ice.  We stopped very close to the iceshelf and everyone was encouraged to go out on the helicopter deck and wear their orange Ponant jackets for a couple of group photos.  Once the photos were taken, we were all given a glass of Champagne or two – not another one!  It was pretty cold on deck but lots of photos were taken by everyone as well as the official photographer before we all scurried back in to warm cabins and more food and drink.

We did a ship-cruise around part of the Bay then returned north to continue our passage along the Ross Iceshelf.  There were frequent periods of fog and snowfalls that often reduced visibility to about 20 metres.

We had a excellent lecture about Humpbacks, the whale we are most likely to see in the next week or so.  We have previously seen quite a few on other voyages and they really are magnificent creatures – inquisitive and playful and very happy to show off for the humans.

We saw many seals and penguins, mainly Adelies and a few Emperors, and had several call-outs to view non-existent Orcas.  We did see quite a few of them, but always a long way away with very poor views, lots of splashing and diving and resurfacing in unexpected places, making photography very difficult.  Time after time, there was a sighting and everyone threw on an extra layer or two for the stampede to their preferred deck, only for us all to stand there, scanning the ocean and feeling our fingers slowly stiffening in the extreme cold. Nary a ripple so everyone trudges back to their cabin, more likely to one of the bars, to wait for the next wave of excitement.

Orcas - mainly males, with straight-backed fins up to two metres high. 

Heather had gone to a few French cooking classes and we both went along to one to learn how to make butter brioche.  The end product didn’t really excite me and there seemed to be a lot of time and work going into the process so if ever I find the need for one, I think I will source it from Brumby’s or Baker’s Delight.

During the afternoon, we had a lecture on Shackleton, given by perhaps the best French guide.  We had quite similar lectures from Nina, our great Australian storyteller on our Aurora voyage, and many of the snippets were identical.  On the other hand, our French guide was obviously not as enamoured by Shackleton as our Aurora guide, but I still regard him with honour – a heroic failure to say the least.

The Recap covered a few useful things about more of the wildlife down here as well as some of the huge historical and scientific significance of the area we are approaching.  The Precap also promised great things – some of which actually happened.

Day 47, Tuesday, 31 January 2023

I think we lost our sixth hour last night and you know what they say about tomorrow...... Tomorrow never comes – and for us, it most certainly won’t – and didn’t.  We will cross the International Date Line later in the day and suddenly 31 January will become 2 February with the first of the month going completely AWOL.  Go figure!

Very soon after waking up, we looked out of our window and saw Mt Terror with the top of Mt Erebus behind it.  I think Erebus must now be my most favourite mountain.  It was a glorious sunny day, minus seven, but it is surprising how we are accustoming to the cold.  As long as our skin is at least minimally exposed, we can stay outside for quite a while with just a parka and without the huge expedition jacket that seriously impedes our movement and makes many simple tasks surprisingly difficult.

Ross Island marks the end of the Ross Iceshelf.  Mounts Terror and Erebus are both on Ross Island and Erebus is the southernmost active volcano on the planet. It was such a clear day, and stayed so all day, that we had magnificent views of it all day.  Smoke could be seen drifting away from the summit and for much of the day, we could also see Terror, although not as well.

We sailed along the northern side of Ross Island until we reached Cape Royds where Shackleton’s hut was situated.  I visited this hut three years ago and getting to it was challenging.  One guy just in front of me fell on the rocks and smashed up his face pretty badly – with a lot of drama to go with that – but that is a longer story.  Given the terrain, I suspected that there would be no landing and as it turned out, I was right but for different reasons.

Shackleton’s Hut from way out at sea - protected by dangerous terrain and lots of less-dangerous Adelie Penguins. 

The Expedition Team went out and found a possible place to land, but by the time they returned to the ship, the wind had driven the ice back in and the Captain decided that the risk of the ship getting trapped in the ice was too great so we had to move on.  Landing aborted – and I thought that was probably a good thing.

We sailed on past Cape Evans to Discovery Point where Scott’s final journey started.  The huge McMurdo Sound US base is immediately adjacent to Scott’s Hut and the NZ base is just over the hill.  We were not allowed to land there due to the US activities near the Hut but it is the one that I remember best from our trip three years ago.  (Shackleton’s hut is the next most familiar one, but I was not keen to revisit it unless there was an easier way to access it.)

Interestingly, I saw on Facebook that the equivalent Heritage Expeditions trip that we did in 2020 did actually land and saw both Shackleton’s Hut and Discovery Point on the same day that we didn’t - very strange!

We stayed around the base for an hour or two (it was our dinnertime) before returning to near Cape Evans where we hoped to make a landing early next day – the Tooth of February.

It had been quite a good day despite the aborted landing and with the extra time spent in the bar, we were just in the mood to fall asleep while pretending to listen to more of our audiobook.

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Charlie’s 5✩ Inspiration: Daytime Spiritualities [昼日疑魂] Date Translation (END 4: Listen)

“Oh, you dare hit me? It’s not like I kissed you or anything, so why are you retaliating?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Charlie’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *5✩ Inspirations have 5 Endings!! *Charlie’s tag will be #For Night, For Paradox

✥ Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

How should I reply to him…?

⊹ Of course I'm scared ⊹

MC: Of course I’m scared. Don’t we all watch horror films for the fear it induces in us?

Charlie: Really? Then, I’ll have to relish in the supposed terror myself today.

MC: Don’t worry. I guarantee that this movie I’ve picked will definitely give you a good scare.

We quietened down as we gradually immersed ourselves in the horror movie that was showing.

The horrid-looking jailer chases vehemently after the unarmed prisoner. After being chased with no hope in sight, the jailer eventually catches up to the prisoner.

Blood gushes out, looking as if it was going to overflow out of the screen.

MC: Yikes!

I quickly covered my eyes, but I couldn’t help the curiosity that arose from wanting to know what went on after…

MC: Charlie? What's going on in the movie?

Although I couldn’t see Charlie, I could picture the look of amusement that must be on his face right now.

Charlie: You don’t even dare to watch it, yet you still want to hear about it? You sure?

MC: Of course I am!

A chuckle sounds by my ears, his voice seemingly moving in closer than ever before.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Charlie: Alright then. I'll tell you what's going on.

Charlie: The prisoner didn't die.

Charlie: He wakes up in a daze and surveys his surroundings, only to find the underground passageway deserted.

Charlie: He follows the passage, proceeding forwards.

Charlie: There is a faint light up ahead. He quickly approaches the only light source in this underground passageway, step-by-step. The rough walls are illuminated only by a lone torch.

Charlie: He is missing a patch of skin at the back of his neck.

Charlie: If he takes more notice of it, he should smell the scent of grease.

Charlie: How do I know it’s grease?

Charlie: The incision is smooth and precise, leaving just the right amount of blood staining the area. The edges of the wound are slightly carbonized.

Charlie: These are obvious traces of electrocautery made by an electrosurgical knife.

Charlie: When the skin comes into contact with an electrosurgical knife, the subcutaneous fat beneath it will be vaporised from the heat.

Charlie: Therefore, theoretically speaking, the smell of grease should be fairly obvious when the wound is in such proximity.

Charlie: Looks like there are still many secrets hidden within this maze.

Charlie: The jailer had dropped his badge on the ground right below the torch.

Charlie: The prisoner kicks the badge in anger, only to immediately tremble in fear in the next second.

Charlie: He picks up the badge and brings it to his lips, giving it a soft pained kiss.

Charlie: Like this.

Charlie: Sexual harassment?

Charlie: All I did was kiss the back of my hand.

Charlie: Don’t tell me… you’re embarrassed by that?

Charlie: You’re reacting like this just from hearing it? What will happen to you in the future?

Charlie: Oh, you dare hit me?

Charlie: It’s not like I kissed you or anything, so why are you retaliating?

Charlie: Okay, stop moving. Do you still want to continue?

Charlie: Continue what?

Charlie: The movie, of course. What did you wish to continue? Come on, tell me. Maybe I might even feel up for it.

Charlie: If it’s nothing, then how about you put your hand down? There’s nothing scary on screen now.

Charlie: No? How are you going to watch it if you don’t?

Charlie: You have your ways?

Charlie: You really do have your own stubborn streak right there. That is something that makes you increasingly similar to me.

Charlie: Looks like I’ve found another similarity between us both today.

Charlie: Ah, no. I guess that makes two.

Charlie: And, the other… is that I now agree with you that I do find the fear that horror movies induce in you to be quite interesting.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The movie ends before we know it after the dazed silence that lapsed.

The projector stopped screening once the movie came to a close. The screen blanked out along with my guilt, panic, and fear.

And I’d completely missed the ending of the movie.

MC: Charlie? Do you remember how the prisoner who was sentenced to death got away?

I thought that Charlie would respond immediately in that prideful tone of his, giving me a clear and concise answer. Hell, I was even prepared to withstand another round of his narcissism if that ever came to pass.

Yet, he sounded a little unsteady and unsure, almost as if he too, was thinking of an appropriate answer.

Charlie: ...How did the prisoner getaway? Simple. He defeated the jailer who imprisoned him. All horror movies end the same way.

MC: He defeated… the jailer?

MC: The jailer here is a figment of his imagination; it doesn’t exist.

MC: The prisoner’s trapped in his own dream.

To prove what I’d said, I quickly pulled up the homepage of the movie where the summary and all the reviews were written. I pointed it out to him.

MC: Look, it’s even written in the movie’s summary…

I raised my head to clarify with him, but Charlie chose to completely ignore me, turning his attention to the plush pillow on the sofa. His eyes were very shifty.

Suspicious. VERY suspicious…

MC: Charlie, you… you didn’t take this movie seriously at all, did you?

Charlie closed his eyes in a slight grimace, his eyebrows knitting…

That reaction…. I KNEW IT.

However, he quickly bounces back from that moment of frustration. His expression suddenly turned serious and exaggeratedly grim.

Charlie: (Y/n), life is but a fleeting one.

The hell is this man talking about!?

I didn’t quite know why, but the serious tone he was taking with me sounded vaguely threatening. I could only nod in accordance.

Charlie: I see that you agree as well.

Charlie: If one wishes to have a glorious life as glamorous as the sun in this fleeting period, then some trivialities will have to be forgone.

Charlie: Alas, that movie earlier was an unfortunate one to have been forgone by this perfect life of mine.

MC: ……

MC: I see. I never knew that there was such a poetic way of saying “I don’t remember”.

Charlie: Who says I don't remember?

Charlie: I remember as clear as the day how my Fiancée got so terrified that she burrowed right into my arms.

I helplessly sighed. Looks like it'll be a long time and a good long way before I'll ever manage to understand how that brain of his works.

MC: Then, does the matter of rating and evaluating this projector still exist in your precious time of existence, Dr. Zha?

Charlie: The projector? Average.

Charlie: It's hard for me to be evaluating a projector below $200,000.

Charlie: But, I can consider using it as a console for couples.

He raised an eyebrow, smiling.

MC: And just where are your thoughts running off to?

Charlie: I'm just giving my honest, unbiased opinion.

Charlie: I hope you can convey this precious review of mine to the brand makers. Consider it my good deed for the day.

MC: Alright, Mr. Charitable.

MC: Now, are you quite done with your charitable acts? I'm going to pack the projector up and send it back.

Charlie: Why?

MC: Because… I feel like I don't really need a home theatre.

Charlie stilled my hand with his own, moving to block the projector off from me.

Charlie: Wait. I’ll take it if you can’t find a use for it.

Charlie: Send it to my house next weekend.

MC: You sure about that?

Charlie: Of course, I naturally have the right to accept any common personal property that my Fiancée chooses to give up.

Charlie: Come to my house next week, and don't stand me up.

With that being said, he confidently walked out of the apartment.

The golden sports car parked by the road gave a tremendous roar as it sped up. It soon faded away, replaced by the ever-present bustle of the people on the streets  

Watching the silhouette of the car gradually disappear, the events of what had gone on within my apartment resurfaced to the forefront of my mind… Charlie was far more bizarre than any horror film I'd ever watched.

However, it’s as if his appearance was slowly lowering my impenetrable guard over my small piece of land.

Now, as for what will appear in the future… Will it be volcanos? Or channels? Who knows; we’ll just have to wait and see.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Paradox⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

[firerose]

headcannons about each individual member kf the seven as dark?

So I decided to split this answer into seven seperate posts because otherwise it would be too long (I'm having to much fun wit this XD)

I'll post the first one here <3

Ok, here we go <3, Hazel: People expected her to change after Franks death She had lost her boyfriend at fourteen no one expected that to be easy So none said anything when she kneeled over his grave for five whole days and nights Reyna simply brought her food and hot chocolate and mourned with her But if they all could have had a look into Hazel's mind they could have seen the slow death of the sweet kind girl she used to be Thoughts of hate begin to burn inside her She asks herself why Juno who saved Franks stick from burning up as a baby refused to do it a second time. The question makes her storm up to Olympus, her brown eyes hard with anger Her friends are with her, Of course, they want to protect each other now that one of them has fallen Juno awaits them in her usual glory, tall with a cloak around her shoulder and .. jewellery precious metals decorating her arms and neck "Why didn't? Do you save him? Was he just a weapon you did not need anymore?!, hazel shouts out her suspicion and now people, gods and demigods alike begin to worry The queen of Olympus remains silent She sees the hatred in hazels eyes and regrets not answering her grandsons screams for help when he burned in the flames Her silence is Hazel's answer and in her growing rage the necklace on Juno's neck starts chocking the goddess Hazel does not feel remorse, only satisfaction as she hears Junos choking It is Percy's hand on her shoulder that snaps her out and Juno's necklace flys into her open hand "You will never use a demigod like that again I will make sure of that. She says and then with one last glare leaves Things are not the same when shes back at camp Jupiter Everything and everyone annoys her, reminds her of what she has lost They are around her all the time like, Leo who reminds her of Sammy, Jason who made Frank Praetor, Percy who loved Frank like a brother Whenever they talk about Frank she feels the desire to yell at them One time when Jason tries to comfort her once again she snaps "You don't have to do this just because you made Frank Praetor and you feel guilty.", Hazel tells him a bit too harshly and Jason leaves her She feels guilty so she does her best to act as grateful as possible from now on The days are very hard for her That is why she loves the night She hasn't forgotten the power rush she got on Olympus and that is why keeps practising She steals weapons from the night patrols She makes the tunnels under the field of Mars change so that they all lead to dead ends When some of the new Rome's war veterans talk about having seen lost loved ones at night Hazel pretends to not listen She just thanks Jason in her thoughts for telling her so much about the ones that fell in the titan war Hazel disappears two weeks after Frank's death The remaining five of the seven are devastated They immediately go searching for her but even after five months there is no sign of her Other demigods start whispering Even Thalia who visits Reyna often is part of those whispers She doesn't know hazel and Frank well and yet what she has heard reminds her so much of the story of a friend she had once lost He had been left alone with his fate with his insane mother just like Hazel Thalia fears that now that Hazel has lost a loved one she will seek revenge just like Luke once did. Nico and Percy are Hazel's greatest defenders They deny every rumour and says that Hazel just needs time to calm down it's the only thing that keeps them from drowning in their guilt Hazell has gone to her old home in Alaska Arion took her there It hurts to be back but here she is saved from the gods who used her and her loved ones She's so sick of being their pawn The years pass and all alone in this cold country Hazel's heart turns to ice A few old men yell insult her with racist phrases She controls the metal ankers on their ships to impale them She hears screams from her neighbour's house at night and so she breaks the metal lock to get in The man who is beating his wife only has a second to look at her before her senses reach metal and they find it......in his

blood She concentrates hand stretched out and the man chokes to death She leaves without a word There is no remorse in her, if the gods let her sweet gentle boyfriend die why isn't she allowed to kill a few bad peopöe One day she decides to return as thoughts about her past cloud her mind Someone has to show the gods that they can't treat their children like this She returns after ten years but does not show herself to her friends Maybe because she worries that they notice how much she has changed Instead, she decides to try to control the labyrinth just like Pasiphae once did The mist helps her to create new tunnels that lead wherever she wants them to go One day they lead to new Rome She just wants to look at how everyone is doing but when she sneaks near the city hidden in her magic she sees something that makes her furious Her friends have moved on She sees them celebrating with other Romans and greeks They celebrate Gea‘s defeat like it wasn‘t just a terrible unnecessary war they had to suffer through She hates that they enjoy their demigod lives They should have told the gods that they want to live normally away from both camps that endanger their lives Unfortunately, that makes her think of Frank and how he has ripped away from his life, his home country just to serve the gods Hazel feels her rage burning like an active Volcano close to erupting She walks up the hill over new Rome and looks down at the glorious city She could bury it without even trying For a moment she thinks about the lives that will cost but then again what else could make the gods notice their flaws She reaches for all the metals buried under the city She hesitates for a moment but then she thinks about Frank, his sweet smile and with a scream the earth starts shaking Buildings and temples collapse People get swallowed by big cracks in the earth There are screams horns are blowing Mist is rising and People hear voices whisper that this is god's fault They have to be punished for their mistakes It‘s like a storm of fog being thickest at the hilltop Hazel‘s old friends are filled with dread as they have seen those powers before Leo decides to fly directly into the mist together with Piper and Jason Hazel sees them approaching and a soft smile appears on her lips The mist lightens All demigods gasp Leo yells in despair He already blames himself for Franks death and now he sees that Hazel the girl he once loved has gone mad Her once curly short hair now long falls around her shoulders Her once brown eyes glow sickly golden as if the riches of the earth have taken control over her It drives him insane and so he rips out a hammer from his tool belt and attempts to attack her Hazel feels deeply hurt by this and so she moves her hands Leo is thrown of Festus's toolbelt made of metal turning out to be his curse Hazel smashes him into the ground a hundred feet under him Festus claws impale Jason and Piper before they have time to react Hazel feels a sting in her heart but she oppresses it The gods and their quest would have killed them anyway Percy and Annabeth are still in the falling city trying to get as many people out of there as possible They both try to ignore the corpses falling from the sky Percy‘s mind is still refusing that the girl he sees as a sister would do this He knows that she has to be stopped but how is he supposed to do that? He still loves her like a sister despite the lives she is taking Her real brother steps up instead Hazel can feel his presence behind her It makes her lose focus The citizens of New Rome cry in relief when the metals stop resurfacing Their city is in ruins but at least it has stopped Before Hazel can react skeleton warriors jump out of the earth restrain her by grabbing her arms She is furious about Nicos interference and struggles to escape „Hazel please it‘s not worth it just surrender and we‘ll talk about this.“, Nico says while he walks up in front of her. Hazel‘s heart breaks at the tortured look in his eyes and she realizes that she is the reason for it She disappeared She came back and murdered

hundreds She did it for Frank but she suddenly asks herself if Frank would have ever wanted to get justice in this way Would he wanted her to become hateful and obsessed with revenge just for him? As she looks into Nico‘s eyes regret strikes her „I……..I‘m sorry.“, She whispers with tears in her eyes. Nico smiles sadly happy that his little sister came to her senses He stretches out his hand to gently touch her cheek Thunder rumbles and suddenly a lightning bold explodes the hilltop right where the children of the underworld Jupiter feels nothing as he watches Percy, Reyna and Annabeth falling to their knees, sobbing and holding each other Hazel Levesque is just another demigod for him, a girl that could not get over her boyfriend Percy buries Hazel next to Frank all by himself New Rome is rebuilt with the help of the greeks The time goes by and slowly Frank and Hazel‘s names are forgotten Juno would love if they had never existed in the first place Whenever demigods speak of them they do it with anger and the queen of Olympus fears that one day a rebellion will start It's not often that their names are talked about but when they are people always refer to them as „Hazel Levesque and Frank Zhang. The couple that died in Storm and fire

[procrastinatorimagines]

I Want Us Part 5

Fandom: Chicago PD / SVU

Series: I Want Us

Part 1 //  Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)

Pairing/s: Sonny Carisi x Intelligence!Reader

Warning/s: tw rape, murder, assault

Word Count: 1,623

Summary: The Intelligence Unit’s last case with Manhattan SVU had them flying out to New York to track down an abducted boy, and had Dectective Y/L/N and Detective Carisi growing close in the process. Now, a string of rape-murders in Chicago has SVU boarding the next flight out, believing the suspect to be the same man responsible for a set of identical crimes 10 years prior. As the case unfolds, Y/N and Carisi are brought back together, reigniting the spark between them.

As it turned out, it wasn’t too long at all. About six months after you’d closed your New York case, putting a child abductor behind bars where he belonged and reuniting a boy with his family, you received an urgent message from Voight requesting you all come in to the district. 

It was early on a Saturday morning following a few drinks at Molly’s the previous night, but it was so rare for Voight to call you in like this on your day off that you knew it had to be important. 

You were just multi-tasking getting dressed and downing an inordinate amount of caffeine when you got a phone call, ‘Detective Carisi’ flashing up on the screen as you paused, one leg in your trousers.

“Hey you,” you answered, putting the phone between your shoulder and ear so you could continue to get ready, curious about why he was calling. 

“Morning, sorry to call so early, but I figured you’d be awake,” he greeted, sounding like he was walking somewhere, the familiar sounds of traffic filling the background.

“Yeah I am, I’m about to head into work though, Voight’s wants us in for some reason, what’s up?” You informed him, looking around for your keys as you finished the last drops of your coffee.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Your Sergeant didn’t tell you? It’s why I’m calling actually, we’re coming to Chicago.” Now that did take you by surprise, Voight’s message hadn’t said anything about SVU, but you weren’t that surprised, it was Voight.

“Oh yeah? Know anything about the case?” You asked, your slight smile at the thought of seeing Carisi somewhat quashed by the fact that it meant something seriously bad was going on in your backyard. 

“A serial rapist that went dormant a few years back seems to have resurfaced in Chicago-” he explained, getting cut off by the sound of someone calling his name in the background, “Sorry, I’ve got to get to my flight, see you soon?”

“Yeah, let me know when you touch down. Oh, and Carisi?” You heard him pause, “this time you get to see what real pizza is supposed to taste like.”

He laughed on the other end of the line, “uh huh, we’ll see; bye Y/N.”

“Bye,” you hung up, a bit of a smile still on your face as you went about finishing up to leave your apartment. 

You and Carisi had kept in contact since you’d gotten back from New York. Nothing serious or anything, but you’d had a good time together and really seemed to connect on your short visit. The conversation had always felt natural, just chatting into the night for no other reason than just enjoying each other’s company. It was nice, whatever it was, and you were looking forward to seeing him in person again.

Throwing on your shoes and coat you headed out the door, making your way to the 21st. As much as you were looking forward to seeing Carisi, you had a job to do. 

-

You arrived at the 21st at the same time as Antonio, catching up to him on the steps as you entered. “Know what we’re doing here on this glorious Saturday morning?” He asked, gesturing to the brilliant sunshine and cloudless sky. 

Antonio had been planning a weekend with his kids, he’d been talking about it all week, and you felt a pang of guilt for not remembering until now. You might not have had plans, or much of an actual life, but that didn’t mean the rest of the unit, your partner especially, hadn’t had to drop a lot to come in today.

“Only that it’s important, SVU’s on their way,” you filling him in on what Carisi had told you as you waved good morning to a desk Sergeant you didn’t recognise. At least Trudy still got the weekend, you thought to yourself, but then even Hank Voight wouldn’t risk her fury at being asked to come in on a Saturday morning. 

The pointed look Antonio gave you had you rolling your eyes, but he was the only one who knew that you still kept in touch with Carisi, though the rest of them had given you hell the second you’d boarded that plane home from New York.

You buzzed the both of you in upstairs, not the first to arrive but not the last either as Jay, Hailey and Kim milled about the bullpen, helping Voight set up the board with your new case. 

“Need a hand?” Antonio asked after morning greetings were made, examining what was up on the board so far. You joined him after throwing your jacket over the back of your desk chair, picking up with folder Voight had left on your desk. Everyone had one laid out for them, so you flicked through it as the others spoke.

“Nah we’ve pretty much got it all set up, this is a pretty thin case considering, well, everything about it,” Jay answered, following his eyes to where he glanced at the board, a row of 9 young women, nearly identical in their pale skin, blonde hair, and delicate features. 

“Christ,” you muttered, looking from their images on the board to the crime scene photos in the file in your hand. All the women looked like porcelain dolls, their hair and make up immaculate, and all of them were dressed in different ball gowns, their hands laid over their chests with a single rose inclosed. 

“Not the start to the weekend you expected huh?” Kim commented grimly as Voight emerged from his office, two photographs, the rest of the unit filling in up the stairs.

“I think Jessica Connors would agree,” Voight answered, drawing the attention of the room as you greeted the others, sticking up two more photographs next to the other 9, who must have been the New York victims. 

The next two women looked nearly identical to the others, flicking to the back of the file to find their reports as Voight spoke. “She was found late last night, same M.O as the rest,” he told you all, pointing to the second photograph he’d stuck up. “This is Lily Hamilton, found the same way a week ago. The connection between the victims was made last night and a further connection was made with these other 9 women, all matching the M.O to the letter, including aspects not released to the press, and all coming from New York 10 years ago.”

“Special Victims?” Kevin asked, earning a nod from Voight.

“Captain Benson, Detective Carisi and Officer Tamin are already on their way,” he replied, “this is going to be a big case, the press is already picking up on the story, and the Commissioner thought it would be best if we took it given our history of working successfully with New York’s Special Victims Unit.” 

Your mind went instantly to Carisi but you shut him out, now wasn’t the time to think about seeing him ago. This case would have been before he’d joined the unit, but you figured maybe Captain Benson would know more, they might have even working it back in the day. 

“All the women, practically identical, went missing within a 6 month window, with gaps ranging from a couple of days to a couple of months. The only connection NYPD found was their appearance, and he seems to have kept them alive for varying lengths of time before killing them and dressing them up like this. They never found out where, but they weren’t killed in the woods. Signs of sexual assault were obvious, but actual damage to their body was minimal. The cause of death was a concoction of lethal drugs injected into their system, the contents of which were not released to be public but match both our cases and New York’s,” Voight relayed the basics.

“So how are we working this?” Hailey asked, perched up on her desk with her head rest on her chin, staring thoughtfully at the board in front of you all.

“I want Burgess, Ruzek and Antonio on the old New York cases, see if anything was missed or if any potential suspects have surfaced in Chicago recently. Atwater and Rojas will re-examine the first crime scene, I want every stone unturned. Upton and Halstead will interview both of the families, see what they were doing when they went missing, but remember, we only found Jessica last night, so tread carefully.”

You couldn’t help but notice one name not mentioned. “Sergeant-” You began to ask, slightly raising your hand. He turned to you before you could finish.

“Y/L/N, Benson requested you work with her unit for this case, seems you made quite an impression in the way you handled our last case with them, you’ll be heading to the most recent crime scene after you’ve all reviewed the case notes, meet them there when they touch down,” he explained, Antonio suppressing a smirk and others glancing at you curiously. 

You didn’t know what to say, so you nodded to let him know you understood, Benson’s comment about a change of scenery resurfacing in your mind. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but maybe she’d actually been serious. 

“What are you all still doing standing around, let’s get moving,” Voight ordered, snapping all of you into gear as you quickly pushed that from your mind too, heading back to your desk and ignoring the raised brow Antonio gave you.

You had a case to work and a killer to catch, and with Special Victims touching down in a couple of hours, whoever this rapist was, their luck had just run out. 

[anonniemousefics]

The Nine Terrifying Moons | Masterlist

Based on the response to this post. :) Oh, yes, we’re doing the thing.

Cross-posted to AO3.

Fandom: The Folk of the Air | Jude + Cardan

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

Chapter One: The First

I am trying to keep my hands from shaking while I’m holding the test strip. There’s one pink line, and I’m waiting to see if there will be two. I think I already know the answer, but I’m holding my breath like it’ll make time go faster anyway.

If I ever imagined this moment, which I don’t remember ever doing, but if I did, I would have imagined it like the commercials that would run in the background when my mom would watch tv while she cooked dinner. If those were to be believed, I was supposed to be in an all-white, pristine, upper-middle-class bathroom, gasping with tears of joy while I hid my pearly white smile behind trembling fingers. My partner would be hugging me from behind, elated and definitely not about to make any crude jokes about the virulence of his sperm.

None of this is happening.

I am in a Target bathroom stall, surrounded by Target-red walls. Cardan, my husband and the High King of Elfhame, is on the other side of the red walls, trying to distract himself with the automatic paper towel dispensers. He’s waving his hand in front of it every couple of seconds; I can hear it each time the motor dispenses paper. I wonder how long of a trail he’s created at this point, but it’s the least of my worries.

“Cardan, you’re wasting paper,” I tell him anyway. He does it again once more; I can practically feel his petulant glare through the wall.

“How long is this meant to take?” he asks.

“It’s only been thirty seconds,” I tell him. “It takes two minutes.”

“I will die of old age by then,” Cardan mutters to himself, which I know he finds funny, because he’s immortal, and he waves his hand by the paper towel dispenser again.

I think I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.

Cardan had not been keen on this particular trip to Target, which is saying a lot, because he’s usually so fond of it. He had wanted to cut our trip to the mortal world short, head back to Elfhame and its royal healers and midwives and have me submit to their inquiries and tests, as all queens and lovers of the High Kings of Elfhame have before me.

But I just needed a minute to think. I needed to process this, with Cardan alone, and face the impossibly difficult questions we’ve been avoiding since this became a question. And if this is true, if I really am with child, with Cardan’s child, I don’t want the first people to know to be a bunch of faerie midwives. I want to tell Vivi and Heather. I want Taryn to know first. And I am filled with loathing when I think about how protected and insulated I’m about to become when the healers and midwives know. How the people will cease to see me as their High Queen and rather as the incubator for their Prince.

I want to eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s. This is all happening so fast.

I glance back at the test strip. Stand and flush the toilet. Step out of the red walls.

Cardan’s raised his dark eyebrows, his hand arrested halfway to the paper towel dispenser again.

“Well?” He looks guarded, unsure of how he’s supposed to be reacting. I hand him the test and step up to the sink, turning on the water to wash my hands. I can see him in the mirror behind me, in his tight pants and boots, The Ramones T-shirt he’s borrowed from Vivi. He’s turning the test over and over in his hands, like he can’t tell which way is up. Same, honestly. My head feels like it’s detached from my body.

“It’s yes,” is the only dumb thing I manage to mutter as I soap up my fingers. Just like the commercials.

“How can you tell?” Cardan’s only looking more confused.

“The two lines.” I turn off the water and tear off part of Cardan’s paper towel train. “The two pink lines mean yes.”

Cardan looks up at me. His chest is hitching in shallow breaths.

“We should be celebrating,” he says, but it comes out like he’s trying to convince himself. So he tries again, squaring up his shoulders with a bit more enthusiasm. “We should be celebrating.”

“Mhmm,” I try to agree with a tight nod. I think I’m going to be sick. Again. Cardan searches my face, his gold-rimmed eyes flitting over the lip I’m worrying away at.

“You do not appear to be particularly celebratory,” he points out, but, then, neither does he. His cheekbones are tingeing red.

“It happened so fast, don’t you think?” My voice sounds almost breathless. It feels like a relief to point out, and that relief is contagious. Cardan’s shoulders sag a little bit as he lets out a breath.

“Lightning fast,” he agrees. He’s white-knuckling the pregnancy test.

“Careful -- I peed on that,” I point out, and, as if I’ve instead told him it’s on fire, Cardan hurls it into the trash with a disgusted huff.

I think for a moment about fishing it back out again, the only bit of evidence that I have that what’s going on inside of me is real. That the legacy we wished first wished for together in the dark, in each other’s arms, not even a month ago, is happening now and fast and there’s no going back. The time for second-guessing was over.

But a disconcerting combination of nausea and hunger hit me in the gut all at once, and I’m reminded that I have plenty of evidence and I’m only going to get more. If I really want to, I’ll just pee on another stick later.

“I need Starbucks,” I spout at the same moment Cardan sighs, “I need a drink.” And we share a quick smile.

At there’s still this. This has not changed.

And I should be enjoying that as we leave the bathroom and Cardan lifts the glamour he’d left at the door to give us some privacy. The “Out of Order” sign vanishes. But instead, I’m thinking of everything that is going to change. Of everything that ought to change, immediately, if at all possible.

I find myself unconsciously reaching for Cardan’s hand, and when I grab his palm and entwine our fingers, he’s squeezing mine back, hard. He knows. The worries and arguments past are resurfacing in his mind, too, and, for a moment, he wordlessly anchors himself to me.

We’re walking past customer service, following the alluring scent trail of coffee and baked goods, as I began to look at the other moms shopping. Their cute messy buns and their athleisure, pushing expensive strollers while their kids gnaw on the season’s latest teethers. And I’m struck, once again, by how much I don’t know.

Really, what are we doing here? Of all the people in all the realms, I think we are the last two people who ought to be becoming parents.

For one, I am an unrepentant murderer. Raised by an unrepentant murderer. Who murdered my own mother in front of me. This is not a person who ought to be cradling newborns.

And Cardan? The twice-cursed High King of Elfhame? Raised by house cats, beaten nightly by his own brother. Simultaneously spoiled and neglected. Is such a person even capable of cradling newborns?

And we’re about to be parents. I need to be reading more, I think. I need to have a plan. We never made a plan. We hadn’t had time to make a plan.

I pause a moment near the checkout lines, pulling Cardan to a stop beside me.

“I’m going to buy a few things first,” I decide in that moment. “Vitamins. Maybe some parenting books.”

“I don’t see the point,” Cardan retorts, straight-faced. “We have plenty of house cats.”

I narrow my eyes up at him as he smirks.

“That joke will be hilarious in a few weeks,” he tells me. “Just you wait.”

“I really doubt it,” I frown, and he’s still smirking when he drops my hand, stepping in front of me.

“My darling Jude,” he cups my face in his hands, and for a moment, his face is all I’m seeing. His expression is soft and tender across his beautiful features, and if our child is even half as good as looking, I am going to struggle to not let it have its way in all things. Or I’m going to want to strangle it. Some days, it’s a coin toss.

“You are the most fearsome and glorious creature I have ever had the privilege to behold,” Cardan is telling me. I’m struck once again by the marvel that he can’t lie and what he is saying must be true. In our five years of marriage, it is still sometimes hard to believe.

“And you will be the most fearsome and glorious mother,” he goes on. “I could not conjure up a more perfect mother for my offspring if I tried.”

“I think that says more about your lack of imagination than anything else,” I quip, but my cheeks are smiling in his hands regardless. He smirks back and quickly kisses me on the lips, once, twice.

“I am happy at this news,” he reassures me, as if he has sensed this whole time how overcome I am.

“I am, too,” I say, and I mean it. Truly. I’m a mixing bowl of emotions. My gaze drifts toward the store. “But we do need parenting books…”

Cardan kisses me quick one last time before releasing my face.

“I will procure your coffee,” he says, taking a step back, and it’s impossible not to look him over, his long, lean body in tight, black pants and worn t-shirt, his messy, black curls around the points of his ears. I have modern science to thank for keeping my womb empty these last five years. Chastity certainly had nothing to do with it.

“And Cardan?” I call after him. He turns. “A cake pop, too?” I ask, already in the clutches of a craving.

He looks intrigued.

“Is that what it sounds like?” he asks.

“Ball of cake on a stick,” I explain, kind of gesturing with my hands as if it will help. Cardan nods, determined.

“Then we will be needing several,” he declares before heading off toward the smell of coffee.

I shoulder the bag I borrowed from Heather and then stuff my hands into the pockets of the yellow sundress I’m wearing, one of a few mortal things of my own I keep at Vivi and Heather’s for visits. I’m on my way to the books section when I start to slow down near a display of newborn onesies.

It isn’t as though I never wanted to be a mother. I supposed there would come a day when I would have acquired all the knowledge one needed to be a mother, and then I would, I don’t know, award myself a medal or a pin and be declared Ready.

Taryn hadn’t been Ready. She would be the first to admit that. Not that I don’t love my niece with my entire heart. But Taryn’s daughter was a handful. Little Eva had been colicky and prone to getting her days and nights confused. For that entire first year, every time we saw Taryn, it seemed she faded a little more: the bags under her eyes greying, her auburn hair growing longer and frayed, everything but her breasts shrinking in size. Of course, it wasn’t permanent. Eva learned to sleep eventually, and to walk and eat and use a toilet, and, now that she was a robust and energetic five-year-old, Taryn was more like herself than she’d been in years.

Still. That first year, though.

Time and time again, Cardan and I would exchange glances while Eva squealed and squalled. It was always a silent No, thank you, please passing between us. We’re just fine without, thank you. Between the battle for the crown and undoing a curse, we’d had quite enough excitement, and so I eagerly welcomed Vivi regularly smuggling me little moon-shaped packets of pink pills from the mortal world. I took them each morning, like clockwork, with relish – it meant I could enjoy my freedom, our freedom as long as I wanted.

I’m not sure what happened in me. One day, I was calling it freedom. The next, it felt like an empty vessel.

We’d gone to visit Taryn and Eva at their estate for a summer solstice brunch. Vivi and Heather had come, and The Ghost was there, too, swapping stories and laughing with Vivi. I’d stepped out onto the terrace to call in Eva for food when I’d spotted Cardan. He was helping Eva climb up a tree, holding her hand while she balanced on a branch. Her wild fox hair was blowing in the late morning breeze that carried her giggle up to the house. Then she leapt at him with a delighted squeal, and he caught her and spun her around so that she squealed some more. And that look of sheer joy on his face when she did. His unguarded laugh echoed up through the grassy hills. I felt my heart crack open.

No, thank you, please suddenly felt very unadvised.

“What have I done to deserve such a face?” Cardan asked me, leaving a lingering kiss close to my ear. I guess I was looking a little amorous when he and Eva came inside. Little Eva was trotting off to the kitchens as I wound my fingers against the buttons of Cardan’s doublet, keeping him close for a moment longer.

“You looked happy,” I said as his hands slid around my waist. I looked up into his dark eyes, warm only for me, and saw he was smiling. “You looked like you liked doing fatherly things.”

He pulled me a little closer, a little tighter.

“I think I did,” he admitted, perhaps hardly believing it himself.

And then it happened. The unspoken shift, the change in the air. It seemed to crackle in the space between our gaze, and it took a fair bit of restraint to not pull him into the nearest coat closet and tear off his clothes. Taryn was calling us anyway. The servants had set the table, and no one would be seated until we had taken our chairs, even in this little family arrangement. Taryn was set on Eva learning courtly manners by example.

Courtly manners. By example. Taryn had the best intentions for Eva, but the phrases make me snort even now while I peruse baby clothes in Target. What example did we set in Faerie? One of murder and deceit and betrayal and lewd behavior.

The same day that I’d watched Cardan play with Eva, he abruptly ended dinner in the palace’s great hall to hoist me into his arms and carry me out, away from every one’s gaze, away from even the guards.

“What has gotten into you?” I kicked my feet and pounded at his shoulders – not particularly hard. Look, I’m not going to pretend this isn’t a game now. I could cause damage if I wanted to. I don’t.

Cardan set me on my feet, only to seize my waist in one arm. We stumbled into an alcove in the wall as his head dipped to my neck, his other hand catching us against the wall. Delighted shivers danced down my arms as his lips brushed the spot below my ear, and I couldn’t hold back a gasp.

“You couldn’t lie to me now even if you wanted to, wife,” Cardan murmured, kissing my ear. He wasn’t wrong. I ran my hands up his deep blue velvet doublet to his shoulders, and bent into his embrace. His hands began to roam my waist, my hips, pulling at my skirts.

“I’ll tell you whatever you like if you’ll keep doing this,” I whispered back, flushing. When he pulled back from my throat, there was a wicked, sneaking smile on his reddening lips.

“You don’t despise the thought of bearing my children,” he said, like it’s a revelation. I blinked. Had he been thinking about our previous exchange all day?

“I despise the thought of bearing any children,” I clarified. “It’s not some honor unique to you.”

Cardan gasped as if he was wounded.

“You could not have cut me deeper,” he teased, as I wound my fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “I thought I was special.”

“You are,” I said, tugging at his hair. “Because if I’m to bear any children at all, I would like them to be yours.”  

The smile that spread over his face then was far from wicked. Cardan was flushed and delighted in a way few got to see, and his arms squeezed around me, lifting me to him as he crushed his lips to mine.

“Cardan,” I laughed against his fevered kisses, my cheeks hurting. “I didn’t mean right this second.”

His lips were swollen when he pulled back, the pupils of his gold-rimmed eyes blown wide.

“Then practice with me,” he said, his breathing ragged. “Like swordplay. You’re always saying I’m rubbish at practicing.”

“You really are,” I gasped against his mouth.

In the last five years, I’ve grown no better at resisting the pull of his desire. If anything, I’m only worse. I couldn’t think straight there in his arms. I wanted to drown in his contagious idealism. I wanted to be set aflame by his soft lips and his body against mine.

With my arms thrown over his shoulders, his lips slid against mine, over and over, our hearts pounding in time together. And then he lifted me off my toes so that he could push us both through our bedchamber door.

A shoe slipped from my foot, and he stumbled over it, kicked it to the side, without releasing my waist. Only when the back of my legs pressed against the bedframe did he pull back from my mouth, breathless. And then he pushed me back onto the bed.

I stretched out on the lush duvet, my whole body thrumming as my heart battered my ribcage. But when I looked up at his face there at the foot of the bed, his expression had darkened in the candlelight.

“What is it?” I pushed myself up to my elbows. “Why are you stopping?”

Cardan suddenly looked as if he was at war with himself. Even though his chest still heaved, he inched to the bed and stepped back again, his dark brows furrowing together.

“Cardan…?” I sat up, alarmed at his hesitation.

“Do you think I would be any good at it?” he blurted out. “At being a father,” he clarified, and winced as if he already knew and hated the answer.

I slid to the edge of the bed and reached for his belt. Pulled him closer.

“You are as equipped for the task as I am,” I said, looking up at him with what I hoped was a provocative smile. He slid his long fingers into my hair, and I needed him closer. “If you’re terrible at it, then I will probably be worse.”

I meant it in jest. He’d always liked this side of me before, my dark, warped cruelty. But this time, his fingers tightened suddenly in my hair.

“Shit.” The word slid out of him like it was being dragged. His hands dropped from my hair, and he stepped back to look at me. He drew in a sharp breath.

“You think I would be a terrible father,” he said, which was hardly fair. That wasn’t what I said at all. I sighed hard, ruing the direction this was going – further from the bed.

“I think neither one of us knows what a good father looks like,” I said. Cardan only gave a painful chuckle.

“We are both quite familiar with terrible fathers,” he said. “I think you, of anyone, would be able to recognize a terrible father when you saw one.”

“And that is the last time you will compare yourself to Madoc,” I said, in horror. “If that is the standard for terrible fathers, then you’re angelic.”

But Cardan gave me a look of slit-eyed skepticism, so I stood from the bed and stepped to him.

“And, really, what does it matter right now?” I asked, lowly, holding a hand to his face. He leaned against it. I was almost ready to start begging. “I am not falling pregnant tonight. We have time to learn these things, if we want to learn them at all.” I lifted onto my tip toes, brushing my lips to the hollow of his cheek.

“Just come to bed,” I whispered there, and I saw his eyes fall shut, his dark lashes against his sharp cheekbones, as he turned to meet the slant of my lips.

“I want to be good at it,” he murmured against my mouth, as I dragged him toward the bed.

“Then you will be,” I insisted just before he cradled the back of my neck, sinking into our kiss as we tipped toward the mattress.

We have time. It’s an easy lie to tell when you’re in Faerie. Time stretches on, limitless and unending. There shouldbe time, endless amounts of time, to learn all you need to know – about anything. There should be time to become the person you’d always wanted to be.

I had had two months since that first conversation. Even less time since the others. In Faerie, that’s hardly a lunch hour.

I am reeling. I’m in Target with a red basket full of prenatal vitamins and snacks and pregnancy books, and I am absolutely reeling.

After I check out, I find Cardan sitting on the curb with a Starbucks bag that’s the size of a large gift bag and two venti Frappuccinos. The one he’s nursing is strawberry-pink and looks full of cream.

“They didn’t have wine,” he tells me, handing me mine. It’s drizzled in caramel, and I’m not sure it’s what I would have ordinarily chosen, but right now, it smells perfect.

“Probably for the best,” I say, and hazard a glance at his expression. It’s dark and troubled again as he squints against the sunlight. His legs are drawn up, and he’s resting his elbows on his knees, like he’s hunched under a weight. Reality’s given him a hard jolt since he kissed me in front of the newborn onesies.

I take a long sip of the Frappuccino through the green straw.

“Cardan, if you don’t want to do this--” I start, and his head jerks up.

“I have always wanted this,” he snaps, looking defensive, and then he’s looking at his boots again.

“Okay.” I sit back, extending my legs.

How do I do this? I have no blueprint for this. Floundering, there’s only one rope I know to pull, the one that’s always saved us: honesty.

So, I go on.

“I’m terrified, too,” I say. I spread the yellow fabric of my sundress over my knees. “If that’s any consolation. I think I’ll be happy eventually, but right now, I’m completely freaking out. I can hardly form a coherent thought. How many cake pops did you get?” I cock my head at the large Starbucks bag.

Cardan shifts it in my direction.

“All of them,” he says, glumly.

I raise my eyebrows as I peer in the bag. Oak will be excited, at least.

“I hate myself for being so terrified of a thing I desperately want.” I look up at Cardan’s confession to see his face twisted in loathing, and my heart twists right along with it. I know this pain, the agony of fearing what you love.

I could lie to him; I probably should. I should tell him right now that I know without a shadow of a doubt he will be a perfect father, that he’s beyond everything that had been done to him, that none of it had ever touched me either. But I don’t lie to him anymore.

Instead, I hand him a cake pop.

“That strikes me as a waste of energy,” I say, and nudge him with a coy smile. “There are so many other things you could hate yourself for.”

He gives me a wicked smirk and, instead of taking the cake pop I’ve offered, he seizes my other wrist and takes a large bite out of the one I’d claimed for myself. Feigning exasperation, I stab at him with the leftover stick.

“Does this not strike you as problematic?” he asks a moment later, his cheek still full of cake.

“Yes.” I reply with a stoic nod. “The fact that you just ate a pregnant lady’s cake pop is both striking andproblematic.”

“I mean this repartee you and I enjoy.” He wipes at a bit of icing at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “A child ought to know his father loves his mother and vice versa, should he not? I would think that sort of thing helps.”

I feel the heartbreak behind his words as if it were my own. In his mind, he’s now on an endless search for every moment in his childhood that went wrong, every little action he ought to do the opposite of. I know. My mind’s been doing it, too.

I scoot a little closer, nearing his warmth, so that I can lean against him. He rests his head on top of mine.

“But you’re my nemesis,” I say, softly.

“Jude,” he says it like he’s scolding. “Not in front of the children.”

“Do not say ‘children’.” I jab him again as he presses his lips to the top of my head. “Your wishes are too powerful, and there is room in here for only one.”

Cardan’s slipped an arm around me, and I tilt my head back to look at him. The corner of his mouth is tugging upwards, slyly.

“Tell me I’m too powerful again,” he murmurs as he kisses my cheek.

“Later,” I promise, and I reach for another cake pop.

There will be time for all that later.

It’s a lie I get used to telling.

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

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[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Between the Shelves

Chapter: 4/4

Characters: Loki x Bookshop Owner Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You were just closing up your bookshop when Loki strolled in, but he wasn’t interested in anything he could find on the shelves.

Warnings: Language. Smut. Just all the smut in this chapter. Dom Loki. 

Permanent Taglist (open): @yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles

Taglist for Shelves: @alexakeyloveloki @fire-in-her-veinz @myoxisbroken @lucantis @anita-e-taylor @trickstersteve @arch-venus25 @jessiejunebug

A/N: Thank you to @yespolkadotkitty and @nonsensicalobsessions for Betaing this chapter for me! Y’all are rockstars. :) And as always, the encouragement from the Queen of Smut, @just-the-hiddles, is appreciated. Thank you all for enjoying this series so much!

“What are men to rocks and mountains?”

But Loki was no man.

The quote that you often thought to yourself when you were low, yearning for the romance that you found within musty pages of tales long ago, was not as comforting to you as it had been once upon a time.

Now, knowing the rock-hard length of his arousal rubbing against your thigh, having felt the mountains of his muscles beneath the silky fabric of his clothing, you realized you had been mistaken. Nothing was better than the moments you had spent entwined with him, stealing breathless moments of passion amongst the shelves.

But it had been days. He said he would return to you the next day, and he hadn’t shown. Now, walking home very much alone, your mind ran with conflicting doubts and worries. Was he okay? Had something happened to him? It was common knowledge that he had been assisting the Avengers on various missions. Would they protect him if one of them went south, or would old grudges resurface?

Were you actually worried about him?

Cursing yourself, you shoved your hands into the pockets of your coat against the chill of the frigid night air, ducking your head as you continued on toward your apartment. Maybe he had gotten tired of you? It wouldn’t be a shock for him to realize that he was a literal god on Earth who could bed anyone he pleased and not a boring bookshop owner. What did you have to offer him?

Sighing heavily in resignation, you slipped into your building, trudging up the several flights of stairs to your tiny one-bedroom apartment. Living in the city wasn’t cheap, and the bookshop wasn’t exactly rolling in revenue. But it was home, and it was welcome after a long day filled with frustration and drudgery.

Not bothering to turn on the lights for the ambient glow streaming in through the blinds, you dropped your bag and coat onto the hooks by the front door, exhaustion weighing heavily in your limbs. Scrubbing your hand over your face, you tugged off your sweater as you walked to your bedroom, kicking off your shoes on the way. You tossed it onto the bed without a second thought.

“It is rather rude to throw clothing at a houseguest.”

You yelped in shock, turning to look at your bed as you backed up against the wall. It took a moment for you to recognize that low, seductive purr, having heard it in similarly lit situations and your thoughts for the past week. Your arms crossed over your chest, protectively covering what little of your breasts showed overtop your bra - as if you hadn’t been dreaming of him removing that flimsy barrier for several nights now.

“What are you doing here?” you asked harshly, your eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness to make out his long and lithe form stretched across your bed, his arms behind his head and his ankles crossed as if he belonged there.

He dropped your sweater unceremoniously to the floor, tilting his head in your direction. “You,” he replied simply, the single word dripping with sin and desire that sent trickles of warmth through your body to gather between your legs.

“You can’t just-just burst into someone’s locked apartment and think that they’ll do whatever you want,” you stammered, doing your best to look angered and intimidated, even though a small thrill went through you to know that he had returned to you after all.

“I can.” He rose from the bed in one graceful move, stalking toward you like a panther cornering its prey. “I did,” he whispered, crowding you against the wall with his body, no part of him touching you besides the sweetness of his breath fanning across your face. “And you will.”

He was so close that you could smell the heady aroma of his cologne, spicy and masculine, drawing you into him like a moth to a flame. Your hands seemed to move of their own accord, smoothing over the silk fabric of his button-down shirt to caress his shoulders before clasping together around the back of his neck. “I won’t,” you breathed, even as you tilted your chin up to make an offering of your slightly parted lips.

“You are,” he growled, just before he dipped his head to kiss you thoroughly, stepping forward to press the length of his hard body against yours, his hands anchored to your hips.

You melted instantly, leaning into him as he slanted his mouth over yours, his tongue plundering your mouth with abandon. You gasped when the clothing beneath your hands melted away, leaving him shirtless, allowing you to explore the ridges and valleys of his sculpted abdomen that you had only begun to learn from your previous encounters. You drank everything about him in greedily, the steady and slow grind of his growing erection against your hip, the flexing muscles beneath your fingertips, the wicked elixir of his tongue tangling with yours, everything. It all worked together to overwhelm your senses and make you putty in his masterful hands.

Gasping for air, your head fell back against the wall when he dragged his lips from yours to press against the rabbiting pulse point of your neck. Your fingers clutched onto his sides, holding him to you, silently begging him to not pull away as he had so many times before.

His hands made quick work of your bra, skating across the skin of your back and cupping your backside after he tossed it to the side with an air of impatience.

“Have you followed my orders, darling?” he asked, voice rough with desire as he peppered your heaving chest with wet kisses, moving down to tease your pebbled nipple with his hot breath.

Orders? Your hazy mind, muddled with lust, scrambled to figure out what he was referring to. It was made doubly hard when he quickly unbuttoned your jeans, tugging them and your underwear down and off your legs in one go. His fingertip swirled in the wet heat found between your folds, drawing a soft moan out of you.

He straightened up to his full height once again, simply allowing you to feel his body against yours as he touched you everywhere except the throbbing bundle of nerves at your center. It sent molten waves of pleasure coursing through you, pulsing in your ears and weakening your knees. You clutched his biceps, your head falling forward to rest on his shoulder as you struggled to remain upright.

His lips caressed the shell of your ear through your hair, sending a shiver down your spine. “To refrain from seeking your own release. Did you obey your god?”

A blush stained your cheeks - thank goodness it was dark - and you nodded, swallowing around the anticipation that stuck in your throat like a stone. Your body had felt the lack of his touch with the deepest ache, yearning to be sated by his lips, tongue, and fingertips, but you hadn’t allowed yourself the relief in hopes that he would return to finish what he had begun. “Yes.”

His hand stilled over you, and he kept your hips from thrusting against him desperately with his other hand pressing into your hip bone. “Yes, and?”

A flash of dark desire flooded you. You knew what he wanted, and after working yourself into a lather thinking about him nonstop for what felt like an eternity, you weren’t too proud to give it to him. Anything for his touch on your overheated skin. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, picking you up easily. He crossed over to your bed and settled you on it surprisingly gently. The light filtering in from the city that never slept was just enough to reveal the dark glint in his eyes as he drank in your sprawled naked form. Deft fingers worked at his leather belt while he maintained eye contact with you, the intensity of it holding you captive. “I’m going to restrain your hands, as I do not trust you not to break the rules as you did earlier and touch me. Your transgressions will not be so easily overlooked and forgiven again. Is that understood?”

Fear stood the hair on the back of your neck on end. Restrained? Your eyes widened as he knelt beside you on the bed, drawing the cool leather of his belt up your torso, grazing both nipples, before his hands lifted your wrists to pin them above your head. The position angled him above you so that he could run his nose along your jaw, his tongue darting out to run along the length of your neck. “Do not be afraid, pet. I’ll take care of you. Give yourself over to me.”

Even without restraints, Loki could do anything that he wanted to you and you would be unable to stop it. This way, you were unable to explore the glorious body that hovered over yours, beautiful in the shadows of your room. He had done nothing but bring about such glorious sensations in you, excluding the frustration of postponing your pleasure. But now he was undressing as well, holding you to the bed with his strong hands, so perhaps you would finally get to revel in him as you had longed for for so long. If you were good, of course.

“I’m yours, Loki,” you admitted, gasping in your next breath as he tightened the belt around your wrists at your breathy admission. It was true, if only for the night.

He growled, his body tensing above you at your words. You smiled at the power they held over him, but he was composed in an instant, righting himself by the bed once again. He undid the button and zip on his well-fitting black slacks, letting them fall to the floor dramatically, his lips curving into a pleased grin at the way you darted your tongue out to wet your lips at the sight of his erection straining against his underwear.

But he didn’t add that last article of clothing to the ever-growing pile on the floor, much to your dismay. He climbed onto the bed, kneeling between your slightly spread legs, pushing them farther open with his hands at your knees. He stroked the flesh of your thighs as he moved his hands farther up your legs, bypassing the moist heat at your center to hook around your waist. With a firm tug that made you gasp in surprise, he pulled you down the bed so that your thighs rested against his with your knees bent to accommodate him between them.

“I will own you, body and soul, by the end of this evening. You will be ruined for any other but me, and then you will know the pleasure of my touch for the rest of your mortal days,” he vowed, dark and dangerous.

He put all of his weight on one elbow, his free hand lighting over your body, never lingering in one spot long before moving on, taking his time before finally settling on your left nipple. He tweaked it between his thumb and forefinger, pulling on it just enough to toe the line between pleasure and pain, watching your face twist at the dueling sensations. You arched your back just slightly into his touch, each roll of his fingers sending a shock of ecstasy straight to your core.

He lowered himself so that his cloth-covered erection rutted against your sex, matched in tempo by his lips suckling on your shoulder and his hand massaging your breast. You bit your lip to stifle the moans that longed to escape you, clenching your eyes against the building inferno he was stoking to life deep in your belly.

When his teeth clamped down firmly onto your shoulder just as his rigid cock found the perfect amount of friction against you, your mouth finally fell open to release a loud, guttural moan. He retreated at the sound, cruelly lifting his touch from you, and your eyes tore open to stare at him accusingly.

“You do not get to come without my permission. Understood?”

Tamping down your building frustration at the twisted ache inside of you yearning for release, you nodded, spreading your legs that much wider for him even as you submitted to his command. “Yes, sir.”

He rewarded you for your obedience by moving down your body, dotting your sweat-dampened skin with light kisses, on your collar bone, the swell of your heaving breast, your bellybutton, anywhere and everywhere within reach before he settled in between your legs. His arms snaked underneath you to wrap around your thighs, lifting them over his shoulders as he lay on the bed before you.

“Remember my rule,” he instructed, his eyes darkening as he breathed in the scent of your arousal. He dropped his mouth to you, darting his tongue out to tease between your glistening folds, and you were unable to keep your eyes open any longer.

It was the purest bliss and greatest torture, teasing at your folds without touching your entrance or your almost over-sensitive bundle of nerves. Your wrists strained against the belt holding them together, and the small stings of pain along your raw skin were almost a welcome relief against the slowly mounting coil of pleasure tightening in between your legs.

“Would you like me to end your suffering?” he asked, his smooth lips barely teasing against you.

“Please, Loki, please,” you begged, your voice raspy and hoarse, almost a sob with the intensity of your need.

He chuckled darkly, the rumble of it sending shockwaves of euphoria throughout your trembling limbs, before sealing his lips over you, flicking the blade of his tongue against your swollen clit. He suckled the sensitive flesh eagerly, and your inner walls clenched around him when he slid two fingers inside of you, the passage made easy by how ready you were for him. The curl of his long, elegant fingers beckoned you swiftly to an otherworldly orgasm.

After days and days of torture, it took but a few moments before your back bowed off of the bed, your hands clenching onto pillows and sheets for anything to hold you to reality as you cried out your release. You saw stars behind your clenched eyes, and all breath was stolen from your lungs.

Slowly, you floated back to reality, eased to the present moment by gentle laps of his tongue over your folds. You were boneless, completely spent, coasting on ecstasy as he planted a light kiss over your over-stimulated center that made you jump and hiss through your teeth.

You were keenly aware of his erection dragging along your skin as he kissed up your body - when had he taken off his underwear? It settled heavily against you, rubbing back and forth along you as he slowly thrust his hips back and forth in time with his mouth claiming yours. His tongue fought yours for dominance. He swallowed your quiet moans and gave you his in return, the timbre of them traveling through your chests crushed together beneath the pleasant weight of him.

His hands seared over your crackling nerves as they ghosted up your arms, making quick work of releasing them from the leather belt. You sighed at the release, your shoulders and upper arms had begun to ache slightly from the position, and dropped your arms to the bed on either side of you.

He dropped his forehead onto yours lightly, his nose rubbing against yours as he teased your entrance with his cock. You opened your eyes to find him looking down at you, all of the green in his gaze almost lost his pupils blown with desire.

“Mine,” he whispered, almost reverently, just as he thrust himself fully into you in one long, smooth stroke.

Were it not for him pinning you to the bed with his exquisitely muscled frame, you would have curled around him fully at the tight stretch of him fully sheathed within you. Your muscles clenched around him, holding him inside of you, and the edges of his collected facade cracked with a stuttered moan coming from deep in his throat, his brows furrowed and his jaw dropping.

It was the most erotic sight you had ever seen.

“You are better than I could have ever imagined, love,” he murmured, pressing a lingering, thorough kiss to your lips.

As his thrusts increased in speed and force, you lost where you ended and he began. You were a tangle of limbs and moans, the sounds of your bodies meeting echoing around the room as he took you for his pleasure with each rut of his pelvis against yours.

He found the right angle, determined by your hitching gasps, that rubbed his public bone into your clit and the very tip of his impressive length against your g-spot. You were rocketing toward your second orgasm quickly, having never fully come down from the first, and you broke his rule without thought to wrap your arms around his back and cling to his flexing back muscles with all of your might.

You were encompassed and filled by the god, his grunts sounding into your ears, the salty taste of his skin intoxicating on your tongue, his large frame completely overwhelming yours as he pulled you to his chest with his arms pushed between your back and the bed.

With a strangled scream, you tumbled into your release, and you were barely able to make out his hips faltering as he moaned out his as well.

He fell to the bed beside you, rolling over onto his back, panting lightly. Your arm came up to drape over your eyes as your heart rate and breathing slowly came down to what could resemble normalcy.

The bed shifted, and you lifted your arm just enough to peek out at the cause of it. Loki was standing beside the bed, dressing quickly, but not in a way that suggested he was fleeing. It was efficient, no movement wasted.

“You’re leaving?” you asked softly, unable to hide the disappointment from your voice. You didn’t know what you had expected, but after so much build-up, a one night stand was not it.

Finishing the buttons of his shirt, he towered over you on the bed to brush his lips across your forehead before pulling away. “I am.”

The pang of your heart in your chest was unexpected, and you felt foolish for its existence. He hadn’t promised you anything, but that didn’t stop you from wishing for more just the same.

His long legs ate up the distance to your doorway. He paused in the frame, his hand coming up to settle on the worn wood lightly. “I will return to you soon. See to it that you remember the rules.”

And as you had come to expect, he was gone, leaving you sweaty, spent, and sated.

Until next time.

[perspective-series]

Kingdom Perspective (16)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, panic, kidnapping, keeping/treating people like pets, threats, unwanted touching/grabbing, and almost drowning.

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

—————————————————————————————————-

 Roman frowned at this, breaking character as his eyes went wide. “Virgil!” He came closer, trying to look around for where Virgil fell.

The Giant’s movements certainly didn’t help, creating a whirlpool effect that threatened to pull Virgil deeper. Virgil attempted to swim towards the surface, but he found the chaos had disoriented him. Which way was up? The human tried to open his eyes underwater, but only got a blurry image for all his effort.

Virgil kicked as hard as he could, trying to propel himself towards what he hoped would be air. His lungs began to burn, having never held his breath this long. Distantly Virgil was aware of his head beginning to feel fuzzy, and his arms seemed to slug through the water.

 Roman was starting to panic when he couldn’t see Virgil. Oh man, where was he? Taking in a breath, Roman dived under the water, looking around him to see if he could spot the human.

Virgil squinted, feeling and seeing a blur move over in the water to his right. Of course, a moment later the movement cause Virgil to tumble further along, shocking him enough that Virgil’s mouth subconsciously opened. 

A pain began to fill Virgil’s chest, the human thrashing about as water began to fill his lungs. Virgil clutched at his throat, willing the sensation to stop.

 Too much time had passed and still Roman couldn’t see Virgil. This was bad. Virgil was going to drown and it would all be Roman’s fault!

 Just then, he saw a glimpse of something in the water. He immediately dove deeper towards it and as he got closer he saw that it was Virgil. Eyes going wide, Roman wasted no time in cupping Virgil in his hands and then swimming up, breaking the surface of the water.

 “Virgil! Virgil, are you okay? P-Please be okay…”

Immediately the human began to cough up water, gasping for air now that he was above water. Virgil gagged, wondering distantly how much of this pool had ended up in his lungs. Virgil shivered, both from the slight scare and from the fact that in his soaking wet clothes, he was now freezing.

 Seeing Virgil shaking, Roman got out of the pool and took the towel he set out earlier, doing his best to wrap Virgil in it. “Virgil, I am so sorry.”

“No, I- what?” Virgil let out another cough, pulling the edges of the towel around himself as he looked up at Roman. “I was just about to thank you.”

 “Th-Thank me? But it was my fault you almost drowned in the first place.” Roman said, deflating at the thought he almost let his friend die. Again.

“Well yeah.” Though it was true, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to blame Roman. “But I also didn’t drown because of you. You...you saved my life.”

 “Well, of course I did. I wasn’t going to just let you drown.” Roman sighed as he looked toward the pool. He couldn’t see the boat from here. It had probably reached the bottom of the pool by now. “I think maybe we’re done with the pool for today.”

Virgil gave a weak chuckle, which turned into another coughing fit as his body attempted to dispel more of the water. “...yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

 Roman winced and grabbed his tunic before heading out and back towards his room. “Come on, let’s get you into some dry clothes. And maybe some water.”

“I’ve had enough water.” Virgil chuckled darkly, but his throat craved something to soothe it regardless.

 “I have no doubts about that.” Roman said with a sigh. When he made it back to his room, he set Virgil down on his bed, letting him stay wrapped up in the towel. He then grabbed Virgil’s change of clothes and laid it near him. “I’m gonna go grab you something to drink, here are your clothes to get changed.” Roman motioned toward them and then headed out again.

Virgil changed into the tunic and pants provided, regretfully laying his hoodie to the side with his other soaked belongings. At the very least it felt nice to get into dry clothes, and Virgil used the towel to dry the rest of his body off as best he could.

 Roman came back, knocking on the door before opening it. “Virgil? Are you decent?” He called out.

Virgil nodded, before remembering Roman couldn’t see him. “All good.”

 Roman entered the room and walked over, kneeling next to the bed. “Here’s some water for you.” He handed Virgil a small handmade cup that was around Virgil’s size.

Virgil took it gratefully, slowly sipping from it and letting the cool water soothe his insides. It was certainly different enough from the sensation he had just experienced that Virgil could still find it pleasant.

“Sorry that didn’t turn out how you hoped.” Virgil spoke sincerely, giving Roman a regretful gaze.

 Roman shook his head. “Well I’m sorry for putting you in yet another dangerous situation.” He looked away. “The more I try to hang out with you, the more I realize it really is for the best that you go back to your own world.”

“...yeah.” Virgil rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re probably right. It’s kind of hard to come up with things that are fun and safe for both of us.”

 Roman sighed. If only Virgil was his size. Then they wouldn’t have to worry about all this. He noticed Virgil’s clothes and scooped them up. “I’m gonna take these to get dried. Need anything else while I’m gone?” Roman asked, standing up.

“No, I’m good.” Virgil shook his head.

 “Then I shall be right back.” Roman said and the left once again.

***

Logan paused, still holding the scroll he had stumbled upon in his hands. The edges were beginning to wilt from all the times Logan had pulled it out to study. At the top, there was one word larger than the rest:

Patton.

Here was the first set of notes Logan had taken on Patton when the human fell under his care. Looking at the scribbled text, the various predictions scrawled in the margins, Logan couldn’t help but get thrown back in time as a few of those memories resurfaced.

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

FLASHBACK

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

“Your highness, I’m glad I caught you.” Dee hurried his pace, falling in line with the crown prince. 

“The feeling is not mutual.” Logan stared ahead, his gaze cold as ever.

“Prince Logan, I know you are a man of science, of logic.” Dee explained, straightening his blazer to appear more presentable. “Surely a royal of your expertise understands just how phenomenal a breakthrough like this could be to the realm of intellectuals.”

“Indeed.” Logan’s response was curt, clearly annoyed.

“Then perhaps, given your ranking, you might be able to persuade your father to ease off his ridiculous verdict.” Dee gave a sly smirk. “If I were given access to just a few specimens, then I could gain even more knowledge about the human race. Or even if you were to grant me just a little time alone with your own, I could certainly produce numerous research reports that would all fall under your glorious name.”

“My father wants nothing to do with these creatures.” Logan came to an abrupt stop in front of his bedroom door, turning to face Dee. “And I have no need for fame or titles. The human under my possession is my own, and I will make my own observations as I see fit. Good day.” With this last remark, Logan entered his chambers and slammed the door in Dee’s face.

 Patton jumped at the sound of the door slamming and he scooted further into the corner of his cage as Logan came in. He looked down, hugging his knees close to him. Logan hadn’t been as bad as...well, the other two giants but Patton still feared that the giant would turn on him at any moment. Like he was just waiting for Patton to mess something up and then was going to punish him for it.

 The thought sent a shiver running down Patton’s spine.

Logan glanced briefly at the cage, noting the movement before ignoring the human once more. 

It had been a week, and still all it did was sit there cowering. At this point Logan was unsure if this was due to his father’s “training” or if it was merely defective in some way. Logan did not mind the fact that the human did not constantly speak- after all, Logan was not particularly chatty himself- but it was rather unnerving that it had not spoken a word since Logan first claimed the human for himself. 

Logan checked its food dish, ensuring it was fed before grabbing a book from his desk and sitting in an armchair nearby. Idly he flipped through the pages, trying to ignore the distressed looks of fear every so often pointed in his direction.

 Patton shifted slightly where he sat. He was getting anxious. Nothing had really happened this last week. The most the giant had done was switch out his food and water bowls and occasionally asked him a question that Patton never answered. It was honestly starting to tear Patton apart. Just, the waiting for something to happen. Patton could barely take it anymore.

 “A-Are you going to hurt me?” Patton asked quietly but even so, he winced as his voice seemed to carry in the all but silent room.

The tiny voice almost went unnoticed by the Giant who was too enthralled in his book. Logan looked up, meeting that same scared gaze as always.

“I beg your pardon?” Logan was half certain he had merely imagined the noise.

 Patton swallowed thickly, almost wanting to pretend he had never said anything when he met Logan’s eyes. But he had to know. “A-Are you g-going to..to hurt me?” He asked again, stuttering even more than before.

“I have no intention of doing so.” Logan answered, his voice as monotone as ever.

 “B-But the other giants…” Patton couldn’t help but say. He didn’t believe Logan, half thinking he was simply trying to make his guard go down before striking.

“I am not my father, nor am I the court sorcerer.” Logan raised an eyebrow. “Why would their behaviors be any implication of my own responses and goals?”

 “I don’t-I just-” Patton turned away from Logan, looking at the cage around him. “I...I want to go home.” He said, even quieter than before.

“That would not be possible.” Logan informed him. “You reside here now.”

 “P-Please…” Patton pleaded, tears showing in his eyes.

Logan paused, feeling that familiar unpleasant tugging sensation in his chest at the sight of the human’s tears. “Don’t do that.”

 “I-I can’t help i-it.” Patton said, his tears turning into soft cries. He just wanted to go home.

Logan frowned, confused and concerned. “Why are you unable to control it? Do humans not have tear ducts controlled by conscious muscle movement?”

 Patton, still with tears streaming down his face, looked up at the giant in utter confusion. “Wh-What?”

“You informed me you were unable to ‘help’ your tears.” Logan explained, leaning forwards. “I was attempting to understand the logical explanation behind such a statement.”

 “I-n-not usually. I can’t usually s-stop myself from crying when I’m...sad or-or scared, or-or…” Patton trailed off as he started crying more.

“Why are you scared?” Logan’s eyebrows bunched together in confusion. “I already informed you that I do not intend to harm you.”

 “H-How do I know you aren’t lying.” Patton said through his tears.

“Why would I lie?” Logan asked. “And have I done anything these past few days that would attribute to such an outcome?”

 Patton looked at the cage. Other than keeping him in there, Logan hadn’t acted at all like the previous giants. But that didn’t make Patton any less scared. “I don’t understand…” Patton mumbled.

“What do you not understand?” Logan put his elbows on his knees, folding his hands together. “Perhaps I can explain.” Logan doubted it would be very difficult; after all, humans likely were not capable of complex thoughts.

 “W-Why am I even here? Why am I-Why am I still here?” Patton asked, tears still falling but he wasn’t full on crying anymore. He wanted to know why Logan was keeping him still, when it didn’t look like he was even doing anything with him. Was he just supposed to be a pet to the giant prince?

“You were brought here by the court sorcerer, Dee, and presented to my father as a scientific finding.” Logan raised an eyebrow, surprised the creature had forgotten. “After which case, when he ceased to find a purpose for you, I offered to take care of you myself.”

 “But...why.” Patton asked. “Why did you…” He trailed off.

“Ah.” Logan nodded. Here was where he became confused as well. “When I encountered you I experienced an… unprecedented reaction. When I heard about the possibility of your demise I became sympathetic, and took it upon myself to remedy the situation.”

 “So you...didn’t want me to die? That’s why you asked to have me?” Patton asked. “Why...do you care?” Unlike the other giants. Sure, Dee seemed to care about him dying but only because he wanted to continue his harsh studies of him. Logan hadn’t been doing that sort of stuff though.

“I am uncertain in that regard.” Logan admitted. “It is hard to see what makes you unique, but you are the first creature to which I have had such a strong emotional reaction.”

 “Okay…” Patton looked down. “So...why can’t I go home?” 

“Well I sincerely doubt Dee would hold any interest in sending you back.” Logan pointed out. “Not to mention, you are quite the curious specimen. It would be foolish for me to send you off.”

 Patton felt himself deflate. “I-I’m really not that interesting…”

“That remains to be seen.” Logan countered. “I hardly know anything about you yet. You’ve been so reclusive.”

 “I..I’m...sorry?” Patton said, not knowing how else to respond. It was hardly his fault though. 

“Apology accepted.” Logan nodded. “Perhaps it would be beneficial if I asked you a series of questions, now that you are cooperating.”

 Patton really didn’t want to but...what other choice did he have? At least Logan’s way of questions didn’t lead to some form of pain to try and get out of him. “O-Okay.”

“Excellent.” Logan came closer, sitting at his desk so that he could be closest to the cage. There he pulled out a scroll and quill, ready to take notes. “Let us begin. What is your name?”

 Patton blinked. No one here had yet to ask that of him. “...Patton.”

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

END FLASHBACK

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

 “Uh...Logan?” Patton called out, seeing that Logan was just staring blankly at a scroll. 

Logan quickly rolled the scroll back up, piling it with the rest. “Not this one either.” Logan murmured, continuing his search for a few of his older study materials to pass down to Roman. Picani had requested Logan return them.

 Patton frowned slightly when Logan didn’t really respond but he let it go. “Are you able to stay a little bit? Maybe for lunch?” Patton asked, not knowing whether or not Logan would have to leave as soon as he found what he needed.

“Briefly.” Logan answered, eyes pursuing another set of writing. He gave a decisive nod, tucking this one under his arm. “Once I get these to Picani I will be able to return with sustenance, although I will have to leave soon after to attend a fitting, then a dress rehearsal, then a meeting with the council…” Logan sighed, resuming his task.

 “Sounds...really busy.” Patton said. Well, at least Logan got a little break from it.

“Indeed.” The collection of scrolls in Logan’s arms steadily began to grow. “There are many last minute preparations for tomorrow which I must attend. I have barely had a moment to breathe.”

 “I’m sorry. I wish they would go a little easier on you.” He got the importance of everything but still. Logan was only one person.

“It’s understandable, if a bit frustrating.” Logan admitted. “After all, the coronation is not the only big life change tomorrow...truth be told I’d rather be spending this last day intentionally with you.”

 Patton smiled a sad smiled. “Yeah, I would too.” He hated that he barely got to see Logan during his last day here.

“Well, I should get theses to Picani.” Logan said, shifting the scrolls in his grip. “I will return shortly.”

 “Okay, just don’t take too long.” Patton said with a small, still a bit sad, smile.

“I will try.” Logan promised. Then, he left.

 Patton sighed and settled down against the stack of books, his new spot ever since everything had happened. In fact...he hadn’t been in the cage for a few days now. Sometimes he felt like going back in there, just to curl up, especially when Logan wasn’t in the room with him but he didn’t.

 It was strange but...it was also nice. 

 Patton closed his eyes, deciding to take rest them as he waited for Logan to come back.

“Sorry I took so long.” Logan returned several minutes later, a tray of food in hand. 

 Patton groaned a little as he woke up. He hadn’t really meant to fall asleep but apparently he had been more tired than he thought. He smiled up at Logan. “It’s-” yawn “-okay.”

“...I can just leave food here for later if you’re tired.” Logan offered, setting the tray down softly on the desk.

 “No, no!” Patton shot up and over to Logan, falling onto his hand before he could move it. “I’m fine! Let’s eat!”

Logan chuckled, glad to see time had not lessened Patton’s enthusiasm. “Excellent. In that case, here.” Logan flipped his hand over, scooping up Patton into his palm and handing the human part of a sandwich.

 Patton grinned and grabbed it as soon as he gained his balance. He took a bite. “Thanks Lo!” He said, mouth full.

“You’re welcome.” Logan nodded, taking his own food in his free hand.

 Patton finished his piece and then looked up at Logan. “So...what time is the coronation tomorrow?” He asked.

“It is a day-long affair.” Logan explained. “It will begin around midday, with a public announcement, followed by the more prestigious points in the throne room, and then a continuation of various paperwork and fine details.”

 Patton nodded. “And...when are we going home?” He asked this question a little quieter, not quite meeting Logan’s eyes.

“...undecided.” Logan admitted. “I would like to be there, but...practically speaking, it would be foolish of me to duck out of any of the festivities to send you off. Perhaps Roman will have a moment and can take you both. I plan to give the order in the morning, and then it’s a matter of when Dee is available. Given he is not involved in the ceremonies it could be anytime.”

 “Wait...so you won’t even be there to see us off?” Patton deflated at the new bit of knowledge. 

“No.” Logan shook his head. “I have been trying to restructure the day so that I could be there, but after the coronation I am to depart for the peace council.”

 “O-Oh….” Patton looked down and he couldn’t stop the tears that started to form. “I was...hoping we would get one last goodbye…”

“We can still say goodbye.” Logan said hurriedly. “Just...in the morning. Before I leave for the ceremony.”

 “I guess.” It wouldn’t be the same though. 

“I know it won’t be the same,” Logan spoke as if reading Patton’s mind, “but it is the only option that doesn’t involve delaying the event almost a week.”

 “I...I would be fine with that.” Patton said quietly. Still not meeting Logan’s eyes.

“No.” Logan’s voice was sharper than usual, as if trying to cut through to both himself and Patton. Logan adjusted his tone to be gentle once more. “No delaying it. This is for...the best.”

 Patton winced but sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Patton.” Logan finished off the last of his sandwich, wiping his mouth. “...I guess I should take my leave now.”

 “Right.” Patton waited to be put down.

Logan gently let the human slide off his palm, gathering up the tray once more. He sighed. It felt as though nowadays Logan only got to see snippets of Patton; and soon, he wouldn’t even get that.

“Goodbye.” Logan said softly, leaving the room.

 “Bye.” Patton said and slumped back up against his books. He sighed and closed his eyes again, knowing it would be a while before Logan came back for bed.

[ifeellikeameowster]

E.V.O.L Chapter 3- Living Dead

Chapter Summary: After a bit of a rough morning, Virgil decides to visit the grave of his long dead best friend... Meanwhile, Patton has finally graduated and is ready to take on his first assignment as a newly appointed cupid!

Warnings: Beginnings of Yandere like behavior, stalking, watching other’s without them knowing, wounds, stabbing, blood.

Pairings: One-sided moxiety.

Word Count: 4k+

Chapter followed by Author’s Note then Tag List under the read more:

Everyday I feel the same.

Stuck, and I can never change.

Sucked into a black balloon.

Spat into an empty room.

The next day Virgil found himself waking before even the roosters themselves would have crowed.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and cursing his wishy washy biological clock, he wondered if it was too early to grab a bite of breakfast. He had missed dinner the previous day, after all, having been too tired from being forced to socialize for so long with someone so new. His parents would probably understand if they caught him. They always did.

He shrugged and slung one of his lighter weighted blankets over his shoulders before taking a few shaky steps away from his bed. His legs felt like jello, making it tempting to just go back to the safety of his little nest and spend all day inside of his room. But the obnoxious rumbling of his ungrateful stomach made that nearly impossible. So to the kitchen it was instead.

Virge tried his best not to step on any creaky floorboards on his way out of his room and down the stairs. If his parents weren’t already awake, then he certainly didn’t want to be the loud, fumbling asshole that actually woke them up. Heaven knows they deserved all the rest they could get. They did so much for him. And for the whole neighborhood, for that matter.

Wonder if there’s any of those blueberry bagels left. He pondered as he descended the final step.

He went past the living room and into the kitchen, where upon after he entered, Virgil was immediately met with his answer.

“You’re up early, V.” Talyn said around a mouthful of their buttery bagel, “Can’t sleep?”

“More like slept too much.” Virgil corrected as he joined them at the breakfast bar.

Talyn was a Banshee, a wailing ghost that had the ability to warn others of approaching death.Though, they usually used their glorious screeching voice for the screamo parts of their band’s songs instead. Once in a blue moon however, especially back when Virgil had done something particularly rebellious when he was a teenager, he had had the pleasure of witnessing firsthand the more negative side to their voice. Between his maddy’s booming voice and the sad puppy dog eyes his pops had sent his way-it was easy to see why his version of a ‘rebellious phase’ had been cut short. 

“I’d chastise you for your poor sleeping habits but I’m honestly not one to speak myself.”

“You’re a ghost, you don’t even need to sleep.”

“And yet here we are.” They waved the hand holding the bagel, sending some crumbs flying, “With me taking afternoon naps and staying up all night like a heathen.”

“God, same.”

“We’ve rubbed off on you too much, little one.” Talyn chuckled, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Me and Joan. Why don’t you take after your papa more too?”

“Pops is too sunshiney for me, maddy. I’m half convinced he’s made of literal sunbeams at this point.” Virgil sneered out with a fond undertone as he gently lathered butter on his own bagel, “I’m more of a punk moonchild, ya’ know?”

Maddy was the affectionate nickname he had given Talyn as a kid. He was pleased to later find out that, unlike with dammy, other kids sometimes used maddy for their nonbinary parents too.

His maddy chuckled at that, patted his shoulder, then returned to devouring their own breakfast. They both sat in a comfortable, companionable silence for a while as they finished up their food and took in the morning sights through the wide kitchen window. Then as the birds started up their autumn songs and the sun started it’s slow trek over the horizon, they both got up to put away their trash and tidy their mess. As he was putting his blanket over the couch for later cuddling-while-watching-tv purposes, Virgil’s eyes unfortunately happened to land on the calendar hanging next to the entryway. The sight of a certain circled reminder of a date he had been trying to forget caused a past pain to resurface just as hot and stabbing as the first time it had ever appeared in his heart.

He reentered the kitchen with a familiar, haunting grimace. Talyn sent him a fleeting confused look before it morphed into one of understanding instead.

“It’s next week, isn’t it?” They breathed softly, “The anniversary.” Their tone held an unnecessary weight of guilt. For even though they were a Banshee, they had not been able to foresee that death. The most important one. The one that had hurt their child so much at such a young age.

“Yeah,” Virgil choked out, tears threatening to brim his eyes, “If...I’m being honest...I’m not sure if I can make it, this year.”

“Well maybe…” They bit their lip and shifted on their feet nervously, “Maybe you can just go now? It might be less pressure, if it’s not the day of.”

“I-I don’t know, maddy. I’m still kind of worn out from yesterday.”

“Ah, the matchmaker meeting. I almost forgot about that.” Talyn moved to lean back on the counter, “How did that go?”

Virge sucked in a breath, blinked away the wetness of his eyes, and thanked whatever higher power may be for the change of topic. “Terrible, I hate socializing. Also it felt like I was being hounded by a teacher with how many questions I was being asked.”

“He needs to ask questions, dear. How else would he know what you like?” They sent him a sympathetic smile that didn’t quite meet their eyes. The mood of the room was still soured by the date hanging ominously on the wall. Taunting them both with it’s ever approaching red circle.

“What I would like is to not have to go to these meetings at all.” Virgil whined. He hopped up to sit cross legged on the countertop beside his maddy. “Why’d you and dammy even talk to him anyways? I thought pops was just going through one of his romance craze phases again, but…”

“But, we all agreed it’s what’s best for you. It’s not healthy to only ever hang out with your family. You need to spread your wings, sweet little baby boy.”

“Ew, baby talk.” Virgil mimed throwing up before crossing his arms and pouting. “Why’s it gotta be some stupid dramatically set up romcom though? Can’t I just go to an online group chat for depressed-emos-anonymous or something?”

Talyn did a laugh somewhere between a giggle and a chortle at that. They playfully swiped at his shoulder. “No, you idiot. Just listen to your parents, okay? It’s time. Way past time, actually…”

“Time to what? Get some?”

“Find someone to love. Someone to...give your feelings too.”

“I give mushy lovey dovey stuff to y’all all the time!”

“Not like that, V. To…” They tapped a frustrated rhythm onto the countertop with their long, pointed nails. “To obsess over. To be attracted to and fawn over. Stuff like that.”

“To bone.”

“Virgil!”

“What? That’s the only difference, ain’t it?” He sighed as he leaned over to place his head on their shoulder. “Why can’t platonic love be enough? I've been doing just fine with just that…”

“Honey…” They let out a sigh of their own before running a reassuring hand through his hair. “That may have been enough until now, but trust me you need this.” The soothing touch of their petting almost calmed  him, until- “We need this.” They ended in a strained whisper, yet unfortunately still loud enough for him to hear.

Virgil jolted away from Talyn and off the counter as if he’d been burned. “What? You’re...You’re all trying to pawn me off or something? Finally tired of me being a fucking mooch?”

“No, no- Little one, that’s not what I-”

“Well if I’m such a leech, maybe I will go hang out in the graveyard with the rest of the rotten worms.”

The tears that had pricked at his eyes earlier decided to return, yet once more he held back the flow of the damn. His eyes reddened with the strain of the repression. Still, he refused to cry around others. Weakness was an ugly shade of color to wear. He wanted to toss out all of his flaws from the closet of his inner self and go shopping for better traits. But maybe, he couldn’t help but think...he was the one that needed to be tossed out right along with them.

Got bubble wrap around my heart.

Waiting for my life to start.

But everyday it never comes.

Permanently at square one.

“Tell the others I’ll be at the church.” He snapped instead as he rounded the corner and stomped up the stairs. He no longer cared if he woke anyone else up. His body was brimming with aggravated energy and his mind was swirling with all the possible negative implications of those few simple whispered words.

The day had barely begun and he already had a massive headache.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After having haphazardly thrown on the nearest clean clothes he could find and all but running out of his house and into the nearly empty street, save for a lone old maid that was bird watching on a nearby bench, he began to make his way over to the cemetery.

On his way there he stopped by Fauna's Florals to pick up a small bouquet of soft and pale yellow roses, the flower of friendship, because that's what he had been to him- the truest friend he would probably ever have. Besides his family, of course, though they were kind of obligated to hang out with him. And he was beginning to wonder if even that reliable, familial obligation had started outstaying it’s welcome.

Miss Fauna, having noticed his red rimmed eyes, had given him a sympathetic smile and a pat on his hand as she handed over the bouquet. He shied away from the unwanted contact and thanked her in a small voice. It was the loudest one he could muster at the time.

When it's late at night-ight,

I'm so dissatisfied-ied.

The weight of an empty life-ife,

Will lessen in the moonlight.

In the light,

In the light,-light,-light.

Shooting Star Cemetery was luckily located in the next street over, making it an easy and short walk. Yet not nearly a long enough a walk to clear his head any from the raging storm it currently housed inside. The graves were all well kept and neatly aligned. The landscaping was done with care and sheer professionalism. The overall atmosphere was more bright and welcoming than one would expect a place housing the dead could ever be.

Virgil moved past the groundskeeper with quick steps, not wanting to have to engage in any conversation with the man whose smile always seemed to stretch too far over his face and whose eyes appeared to linger on his form for too long. Especially not today of all days. He thought as the conversation from earlier resurfaced in his mind. Fresh and unwanted.

His feet took him to his destination almost on autopilot. He had been visiting this particular grave at least once a year for almost seventeen years now. Of course it would be practically hardwired into his system at this point.

“Hey, buddy.” He called out wearily as he approached. Virge leaned over to place the bouquet of yellow roses directly in front of the ivory gravestone before stepping back to sit on the grass across from it.

The stone was the lightest of the ones in its row, almost basking it in an ethereal spotlight. The carvings of angels, ribbons, and roses around it’s surface only accentuated the holy glow. In the dead center, carved in looping and elegant cursive writing, was the epitaph.

It read,

“Patton Sangster:

A young Cherub bright and fair,

Taken from this world too soon.

Now he is way up there,

Dancing between the Sun and the Moon.”

Definitely more fancy and vague than most of the epitaphs around here. Virgil mused, Then again Mrs. Songster was always the poetic dreamer type.

While on the other hand, if he had a gravestone, it would probably say something like "Here lies Virgil Spurling: What an idiot" or "Virgil Spurling: Died of Depression and General Dumbassery".

He let out a long sigh and curled his legs underneath him while crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t believe the week I’ve had, Pat.” He began, “I think my parents have lost their ever loving marbles. Don’t get me wrong or anything- I love them a bunch. But I just don’t...I just don’t get why they’re doing this, ya’ know?”

“They’re insisting I see this stupid matchmaking witch doctor guy, who probably thinks I’m a loser by the way-he seemed kinda stuck up and I kept making a fool of myself as per usual. And like they want me to get hitched to some dude ASAP I guess so I can ‘spread my wings’? Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean?”

He started waving his arms around to accentuate his ranting, ”But a part of me can’t help but think they’re just trying to get rid of me. Just pawn me off to a random guy so I can be out of their hair! But they...They’ve never said or done anything like that before...They’ve always been so nice to me and so supportive and so loving so I just don’t…”

Now, in the sanctum of this empty cemetery and the equally emptily promised presence of his only friend, he finally let the tears fall quietly and slowly down his ever reddening cheeks. “I just don’t get it anymore, Patton. Nothing makes sense. It hasn’t for a long time now. Ever since...ever since high school, really. And I just…”

“I just wish you were still here.” He hissed into the morning air as he closed his eyes and let his eyes finish emptying themselves so he could hopefully return home with them dry and pretend that they had never been crying in the first place.

From several yards away the groundskeeper stole glances at the strange visitor as he worked his usual surveyal of the grounds. However, his gleaming, unwelcome eyes were not the only pair that happened to be following Virgil that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patton Sangster, newly appointed cupid under Eros, had just finished the last of his angelic training and was lined up with the rest of the lucky graduates about to receive their first heavenly assignments.

Finally! He cheered in his head. A chance to prove that all of his training wasn't for nothing. He may be light hearted, but he certainly wouldn't take his heavenly duties lightly. He would prove without a doubt that being soft hearted didn’t mean he was weak. Far from it in fact. He considered the overflowing love he had in his heart to be his greatest and most cherished source of strength.

Little did the little cupid know just yet, but that unbridled and passionate love of others would soon be his very downfall.

I'm living dead, dead, dead, dead.

Only alive-live-live-live.

When I pretend-tend-tend-tend.

That I have died, died, died, died, died, died.

An elder, more experienced cupid passed back and forth in front of the recruits with a golden clipboard they had summoned. Odiel, patron cupid of dark love ballads, was surprisingly the one giving the assignments to the newbies this year. He listed off each angel and their assignment with a resigned sigh and dramatic flip of the page. He went through many graduates before finally getting to Patton, which had caused the poor angel to bounce nervously on his feet.

"Patton Sangster?"

"Yes, that's me!" He nodded eagerly with a dazzling grin.

"Hm." His superior clicked his tongue before looking at his clipboard. "No official angel name given yet. No patron title earned yet."

Patton's eager expression flickered, a brief frown gracing his features before they turned back into his patton-ted steadfast smile.

"We'll just assign you to your old hometown during life, then. And see where it goes from there."

Patton gasped, bringing his hands up to cup his face. "Heartwish City?!"

Odiel pauses for a moment to check another page on their clipboard. "...Yes."

"Yay! Oh, I can't wait to see everyone again! And help them out!"

"Mhmm. Well, you will have to wait a bit more. There's still orientation to get through."

"Oh, of course." His smile turns more nervous, "Yes, sir."

And with that, the rest of the graduates were assigned before they all headed over to the orientation stadium.

The clouds are thicker and fluffier around the stadium, which is covered in red, pink, and white decorations and gold trimmings. Eros himself stands on a stage floating gently above them. Some of his more well known cupids fly  beside him and his effervescent presence. They give the awaiting crowd reminders of what-to-do's and what-not-to-do's before Eros finally speaks.

"Today is the day you truly become cupids. Go forth and spread love, devotion and admiration wherever you may fly to. Prove your loyalty both to me and to my almighty mother Aphrodite. Be the best angel you can be." He intones in a booming voice accompanied by grand hand gestures. He then bows his head toward the crowd of new cupids in respect and waves them off, officially dismissing them to their new posts.

Patton, having been absolutely jittery with excitement throughout the whole orientation, immediately flaps his small, pink and blue hummingbird like wings and takes off into the early morning sky.

His flight time is shortened by both his familiarity with the destination and his newly appointed status. So much so that to any outside spectator, he would have arrived there in the bat of an eyelash.

As he glided over his old town, he spotted several people he once new. Miss Fauna was putting up a new display in front of her flower shop. Tia and Ana were putting up an ad for their speciality tea of the day. Dr Picani was leaving the Blue Fairy Therapy building while glancing at his watch. And many, many more lovely and well missed faces.

But the one he had missed most of all was currently over at the Shooting Star Cemetery, sitting criss-crossed applesauce right in front of his grave.

Sure, he hadn't seen them in over seventeen years, not since their childhood together. But he would be able to recognize that pale face and protective spirit anywhere! This was his best friend we were talking about, after all. And Patton never took his friendships lightly. So he did a spiraling turn in the air to change directions for this newfound destination. He could worry about his other duties later, he had a dear friend to visit!

He hovered over the cemetery like an excited bee hovering over a group of flowers, staying close to the sparse clouds strewn about the glorious sunrise. Not only had Virgil grown up healthily, but he had even remembered him! And was currently paying respects to his grave, apparently. He leaned forward and focused his hearing on the sounds happening down below him.

"You wouldn't believe the week I've had, Pat." Oh dear, what could have happened? Is whatever it was the reason he was visiting? "I think my parents have lost their ever loving marbles. Don’t get me wrong or anything- I love them a bunch. But I just don’t...I just don’t get why they’re doing this, ya’ know?”

What could they have possibly done? Patton remembered Virgil's parents, three queer platonic partners who had always adored their son. They were loved by the whole neighborhood and Patton himself had also enjoyed their company whenever he had visited Virgil's house for playdates and sleepovers. He couldn't imagine them ever doing anything to harm their beloved child! But, if they had hurt Virgil somehow…

“They’re insisting I see this stupid matchmaking witch doctor guy," Ohhh! A matchmaker, huh? Virgie really had grown up! It seemed like just yesterday the two of them were talking about the other boys possibly having cooties during recess. "Who probably thinks I’m a loser by the way-he seemed kinda stuck up and I kept making a fool of myself as per usual." Well that didn't seem very nice of whoever this matchmaker fellow was. Patton would never think of his assignments as losers...everyone was equally deserving of love after all!

"And like they want me to get hitched to some dude ASAP I guess so I can ‘spread my wings’? Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean?” Wait just a minute...Matchmaker...Wings...Patton was a cupid now! Duh. The solution was obvious!

Patton puffed up his chest and fluttered his wings excitedly. He could be Virgil's new, better matchmaker. And nothing would make Pat more happy than having his childhood friend being his first assignment as an official cupid. It was all falling into place so well, almost like destiny! But Virgil was talking again now, so Patton tuned back in.

”But a part of me can’t help but think they’re just trying to get rid of me. Just pawn me off to a random guy so I can be out of their hair! But they...They’ve never said or done anything like that before...They’ve always been so nice to me and so supportive and so loving so I just don’t…”

Ahhh, this was all Virgie's anxiety getting to him again. He had always been a worrywart, even back when they were kids. He guessed some things never changed, not even when it had been so many years. Back then, Patton had always tried to ease his worries and be the most supportive friend he could be. But even at his best and most empathetic, he had been far too young to quite comprehend the full depths of Virgil's emotions.

He looked back at Virgil only to find tears running down his cheeks now, marring his dark eyeshadow. Oh dear sweet Aphrodite- he was crying! “I just don’t get it anymore, Patton. Nothing makes sense. It hasn’t for a long time now. Ever since...ever since high school, really. And I just…”

Highschool? What had happened in high school? Did someone hurt his dearest friend while he wasn't there to protect him? Patton leaned even more forward and gripped the clouds nervously.

“I just wish you were still here.”

Patton froze. Only holy magic and his grip on the clouds keeping him in the air.

I lay back in a glittering mist,

And I, I think of all the men I, I could have kissed.

I haven't lived my life, I haven't lived love,

It's just a bird's eye view from, from up above.

A part of him wished he was still there too. And that same part of him wished he had been there beside Virgil through it all. Had been there in highschool to prevent whatever it was that had hurt his Virgie. Had been there to tell that rude matchmaker off for him. Had been there to give him a lesson in proper etiquette and respect towards his clients. Had been there to help his parents find a better matchmaker. And even to help Virgil pick only the best partner for a great guy like him.

He released a breath he didn't even know he was holding in the first place. But he was here now! And he could help him now!

Now filled to the brim with determination- He hurriedly fumbled to summon his bow and quiver, which he had been storing in his Grace, and pulled out a red romantic arrow from the bag. In his haste, however, he had nicked the side of his arm with the tip of it. He paused to look at the offending wound, wondering if a nick was considered the same thing as a pierce. It wasn't, right? He didn't remember them saying anything about scratches while in the heavenly academy. Oh well, it was probably nothing to worry about! It hadn't come anywhere near his heart, after all.

Besides, Patton had much more pressing matters to attend to. And a heart that needed a connection only he could create was waiting for him. A connection that would transcend the very heavens themselves! Pat would definitely find Virgil a beloved partner that could kiss his many worries away. Many, many kisses. Kisses for that kissable mouth...and soothing voice...and soft looking cheeks…and pale, elegant hands...

Patton shook his head furiously to rid himself of those lucrative thoughts. Sure, Virgil had grown up handsomely, yeah. But this was Patton's best friend he was talking about! How could he be thinking such scandalous and traitorous things? Besides, he had chosen Virgil for his very first assignment. He had to be more professional than that! He had to prove himself a worthy cupid both to Eros himself and to his fellow angels.

He moved to expertly draw his bow, with the same arrow that had previously drawn his blood, poised in the direction of the huddled figure below him. Just as he was about to finally fire, however…He heard it.

"Patton." Just a whisper. A whimper through tears. Just a mumble amidst other unintelligible cries of sorrow.

And yet it felt like a shout. A cry for help. A plea for him. It rang through Patton's ears with the force of a hurricane and knocked him off of his balance.

The arrow cracked and twisted off it's place on the bow and turned to stab through his heart.

He choked on the blood that had bubbled up into his throat and desperately pawed at the arrow lodged accidentally into his most valuable organ.

The words of one of his superior angels and teacher, Balladeil, flared up into his mind. A cupid was not meant to take a cupid's arrow. A cupid's arrow was not made to be used on a cupid.

"Oh Eros!" He cried "Oh no!"

He grabbed at the arrow and started yanking on it. Trying to pull it out of his chest. But it was being stubborn, latching onto his Grace and using that to keep ahold of him. More blood gushed from the wound only to be consumed by his Grace as it tried to heal him from the intrusion. Tears started pouring from Patton's eyes to match Virgil's.

Then, before he knew it, the arrow had melted into his heart and merged into his Grace. And the connection had been completed.

Patton stared dumbfoundedly at the clean space where it used to be for several solid minutes. The wounds were completely healed now and the blood was all gone. It was too late. He had been too late. He had failed.

He took a shaky breath and moved to collect his bow and quiver.

He stored them carefully back into his Grace.

He looked back down at Virgil, who was getting up from the ground now.

He flew slowly over the graveyard as Virgil walked hurriedly past the leering groundskeeper.

He followed Virgil silently all the way back to his home, often passing by a strange crow that happened to be on the same flight path as him.

He watched over Virgil for the rest of the day and way on into that night.

Did I really deserve it?

It happens when you're hurting.

And cut me at the surface,

Of my heart.

Of my heart-heart-heart.

A/N: Patton, you darling idiot. You would have been fine if you weren’t so clumsy. X3 Anyways, hope y’all enjoyed! The next fic I’ll post will be that Creativitwins one shot I mentioned earlier. And then it’ll be right back into the E.V.O.L au! ;3

Tag List:

@accidental-sanders 

@ren-allen

@noneed4thistbh

@virgil-the-void-kitten

@totalwhovian

@bandgeek82002-love

@allycat31415

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@andreaissy

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@im-a-space-gay

@kai-the-person

[kayteewritessteve]

Fated - 5/8

Description: You’re a rogue werewolf, a bounty hunter. It’s not the most glamourous life, but it keeps you paid well and highly entertained. But when a long time acquaintance resurfaces with a mission and a lot of money to throw around, you finally relent and take a job from him. And then things get crazy when you stumble upon your Fated Mate along the way.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 6,800 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Werewolf!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Curse words. Sassy, snarky and adult comments and moments. Depictions of fight scenes and fighting, the same as canon stuffs.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

The abrupt feeling of falling startles you out of your deep slumber, not fully, but enough to have you just slightly aware of your surroundings now. You feel a warmth under your cheek and up against your side, you don’t really remember your bed being this warm, but yet you aren’t complaining in the slightest. You unconsciously shift closer to it, just needing to be closer to it, to the warmth coming off it. You wiggle a little trying to get comfy again and then feel a slight movement as you hear a deep rumble come from said warmth.

A rumble that sounds surprisingly like a chuckle. But that’s weird because beds don’t usually laugh...

You take a deep breath in and your whole body tenses up instantly. Your eyes snapping open and quickly adjusting before flicking around the lowly light space with which you currently reside. You’re still on the Quinjet, and the warmth beside you is definitely not a bed. No, that much you are sure of.

You sit up fully and turn to your makeshift resting post, seeing amused blue eyes staring back at you.

“Steve,” you whisper breathlessly, as if disbelieving of his current presence and placement.

He gives you a glorious smile, showing off his brilliantly white teeth. “Hey sleepyhead,” he whispers back in the silences of the space around you. Clearly not wanting to make any loud, abrupt noises.

“What are—“ you start, your eyes searching around again, “ah, where did Buck go?”

“He needed to go speak with Sam, asked if I could step in so you had somewhere to lean,” he shrugs, as if it’s totally normal to just agree to be some random sleeping woman’s resting place. “How was your sleep?”

“Ah, yeah, fine,” you nod quickly, snapping your eyes away from him to face forward, before stretching your arms above your head with a groan. “Very much needed.”

“Oh?” He questions quietly, “haven’t been sleeping much lately?”

You shake your head with a sigh, “no, been too busy hunting down leads on Heinrich,” And avoiding you to the point the Bond hasn’t shut up about you long enough for me to actually sleep—but you leave that last part out as you turn to glance at him again. “How far out are we?”

Steve glances down at his watch for a second, “we land in about an hour.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the news, “I’ve been asleep for 6 hours?” You gape at him, because on the Quinjet, the flight from New York to Romania would take 7 hours. Meaning you’ve been asleep for 6. “Wait,” you shake your head as a new thought enters your mind, “just how long, exactly, have I been sleeping on you?”

Steve's eyes move over your face slowly before he starts to smirk and looks away from you, facing forward now. “About 5 and a half hours.”

“What?!” You exclaim breathlessly, your face heating up which is an entirely new feeling for you. You never blush, this is not something that happens to you. Your hands shoot up to cover your cheeks, praying to the Goddess that he doesn’t notice in the low light of the Quinjets belly. “You’ve just been sitting here this whole time, letting me sleep on you?” You mumble softly, trying to make up for your voices abrupt volume just seconds ago.

He chuckles quietly, though it’s a deep, rich sound and it causes your heart to flutter as your cheeks heat up even more under your now slightly shaky hands. He shrugs a shoulder, “yeah, I sort of lost track of time. I’ve just been sitting here reading while you slept,” he picks up a book from the other side of him, one you hadn’t even noticed was there in the first place, showing it to you and then placing it back down on the bench.

“How could you even see the words in the dark?” You mumble confused, as you turn to him, your hands still on your cheeks and notice he is looking at you now. He raises a playful eyebrow at you, making that ridiculously beautiful chuckling sound once again, and obviously your heart flutters at it, just as it had before.

His hands raise up to gently grasp your wrists, the tingles shooting through your whole body instantly. You see him freeze and glance down at where your skin touches for a moment, confused, before he refocuses and begins to slowly pulls your hands from your face. “The super serum gave me a few enhancements when it comes to my eyesight. One of those being a night vision, of sorts. It’s not perfect, but it allows me to see just enough,” he smirks as his eyes move between your now extremely flushed cheeks, before flicking up to meet your probably anxious looking eyes.

You clear your throat, nodding as you go to turn away from him but a large hand on your cheek prevents you from turning your head at all.

“Don’t hide it,” he pleads softly, barely above a whisper and sounding far too breathy for your liking. You lock eyes with him, finding yourself trapped in his gaze like always. “I personally think it looks good on you,” he adds a moment later, at the same volume as before. His eyes glancing down to your cheeks, confirming he is talking about the blush.

You nod slowly, your brain all over the place and your mouth suddenly super dry. Like what is that about? Your breath hitches when you see his vision drop to your lips, which causes you to unconsciously lick them before you can think better of it. And thanks to your own heighten senses, you don’t miss his beautiful blues darkening as he watches your tongues movement.

And again before you can stop yourself, your eyes also lower to his lips, and oh Goddess how you want to kiss him. How you want to fling yourself at him and never let go.

You feel the pull, it’s urging you both to move closer, to seal the deal. To finally give in and let the Bond take control.

The silence in the space around you is both deathly still and impossibly electrified. The only sounds in your ears is that of both your fast paced heart beats, and the insanely sexy sounds of Steve’s now laboured breaths. And who knew the simple sound of someone just breathing could be so damn enticing, so utterly bewitching. This man will be the death of you, that much you knew.

‘A death we’d skip happily towards and take with honour,’ your wolf groggily pipes up, startling you momentarily. She’d been asleep this whole time as well, and you are actually surprised she hadn’t woken up at the same time as you. What with her always being fully intune with your surroundings and desperate to be near Steve. Clearly she hasn’t been sleeping well this last week either, which yeah, that isn’t exactly a shock to you. Not even in the slightest.

‘So, what did I miss?’ She asks excitedly, before adding with a dreamy sigh, ‘Goddess he looks amazing in that suit—Wait, why didn’t you wake me sooner, so I could appreciate him for longer?!’ She growls, obviously fully awake and alert now.

You roll your eyes in your mind at her, ‘oh, I’m so sorry, Your Highness. How rude of me to be so distracted that I couldn’t even think straight. My bad there, it won’t happen again. I promise.’

‘Don’t get loud with me, little girl,’ she narrows her eyes, but you can tell it’s playfully. ‘Though I must say, I have been enjoying this more feisty side of you lately. He’s clearly good for us.’

You are instantly reminded of where you currently are by her words, focusing back on the glorious man in front of you, only to promptly notice he is now much, much closer. His lips only an inch away from yours, his breath fanning across your face deliciously.

Your heart stutters at the nearness, as your breath hitches along with it. All you have to do is move just a little and his lips will be on yours. The stifling tension could be momentarily quelled with just that small, simple action alone.

‘Just do it already,’ she pleads desperately. ‘I know you are dying to know how it feels to kiss him. Just do it, just give in.’

Goddess, how right she is. But even with that said, you can’t ignore the persistent thought in the forefront of your mind. He has a girlfriend.

Just as you give that thought a slightly louder voice in your head, you see him shift a little, clearly going in for the kill and you quickly react to that. Lifting your right hand up and lightly placing your index and middle fingers on his lips, preventing them from reaching you. You sigh deeply as you pull back, seeing the confusion in his eyes, followed closely by regret then lastly sorrow. And instantly you know he is probably feeling rejected at the moment and that kills you. You aren’t rejecting him, you could never do that, you just can’t do this. This whole him having a girlfriend and you being the side piece. You are far too territorial and impulsive to be okay with that notion. You do not share, mainly and especially where your mate is concerned. It’s her or you, there is no grey area here.

‘What are you doing?’ Your wolf exclaims loudly, ‘he clearly wants this just as much as we do!’

‘No he doesn’t!’ You growl right back, ‘he is just acting on the Mate Bond. He has no clue as to why he has these urges, nor what is driving his actions right now. If we weren’t Mates, I highly doubt he’d even be interested in us as all.’

‘That is irrelevant because we are Mates! That isn’t going to change nor is it even worth discussing! This is Fate’s choice, he was picked for us for a reason! He completes us just as we do to him! Stop fighting this, stop going against it!’

‘I can’t. I won’t share him. I won’t allow this to go any further until he can be entirely ours,’ you internally shake your head. ‘My mind is made up and there is nothing you can say to change it.’

‘You are so maddening!’ She growls, snapping her jaw at you. ‘I can’t take this anymore, I’m going back to sleep. Wake me up when you’ve pulled your head out of your ass.’

Steve’s brows furrow still looking completely forlorn and dejected, which snaps you back to the real world before you can reply to your wolf’s angry words. You are instantly aware that he can probably see the conflict on your face currently; the anger at your situation and the talk you’re having with your wolf. Not that he’d know about that last part though.

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” you whisper, sighing again. “I can’t do this right now, but I promise this will all make sense one day—“

The sound of heavy footsteps halts your words there as you instantly pull back, creating some much needed space between you and your ridiculously good smelling Mate.

Your eyes snap over to the intruder, seeing a smug looking Bucky standing a few feet away now. He is glancing knowingly between the two of you, as if he is fully aware of the intense internal push and pull going on between you and Steve. The insane sexual tension that is attempting to suffocate you both at the moment.

You awkwardly cough trying to snap Steve out of it, when you notice he hasn’t moved an inch, and is still sitting there, leaning in towards you. His brows still furrowed as he just stares at you, completely ignoring the presence of his best friend. Either that, or his is honestly unaware Bucky is even standing there.

Luckily your awkward action snaps him out of it and he shakes his head before turning to look at his friend. His eyes widened just a little, instantly telling you did in fact have no idea the brunette was here. He shuffles his large body slightly, creating a little more room between the two of you. Though the giant smirk on Bucky’s lips tells you both that moving away from each other now is pointless, he saw enough to know what was actually going on here, just moments again.

“Ah, hey Buck,” Steve starts, his voice deeper, huskier than normal. Clearly affected by everything that had just happened. And Goddess, the deep timber of his voice now, makes you clench your eyes and thighs closed momentarily. Trying desperately to regain control of yourself and your wayward body. He abruptly clears his throat, “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

Bucky’s smirk only grows larger at this—and you honestly didn’t even think that was possible. But clearly it was. “I feel like I should be asking the two of you that,” he glances slowly between you both, raising a brow as he does. His eyes finally settle on Steve, “Something I should know about, Punk?”

Steve furrows his brows again, though this time it’s directed at his best friend, before he shakes his head. “What did you need?” He swiftly ignores his friends remarks and tries to focus the conversation back to whatever Buck came here for originally.

Bucky clearly picks up on what Steve is doing, and for a second looks like he isn’t going to let this go so easily, but seems to think better of it. “Tony needs your help figuring out a good landing spot.”

Steve glances back at you for a second, before sighing with a nod and standing up. He goes to say something to you, opening his mouth to do so but then snaps it shut and nods to you before walking passed Bucky and towards the cockpit. You don’t miss the look Bucky gives him as he walks by though, the look screaming ‘we will talk about this later’. And thank Goddess you won’t be present for that conversation. You’ll make sure of it.

You hastily pull out your phone, both needing the distraction and hoping Bucky gets the hint and just leaves. You don’t want to talk to him right now, not with your insides raging with need and your mind hazy as it tries to catch up, and move passed everything that has just happened.

Though your efforts are clearly in vain as you continue to smell the brunette’s presence and then notice in your peripherals as he makes his way towards you, sitting down in the same place Steve just vacated. A few silent moments pass by, luckily giving you a chance to work through your various notifications.

“So,” Bucky starts slowly. And you know exactly what is to come. You sigh, because so much for having a small moment to collect yourself. To focus your mind elsewhere. “What was that all about?”

You shrug, “dunno what you’re talking about.”

He chuckles, “come on, Doll, give me a little more credit than that.”

You glance up from your device, looking towards him and seeing him still smirking as he just stares at you. You roll your eyes before looking back down at your phone, quickly opening and then skimming through the lengthy text message from John.

“Way to just dump my slumbering form on Steve. Thanks for that by the way,” you lightly chide him.

He scoffs, “like I actually had a choice. The second he saw you passed out on my shoulder he damn near ripped me off this bench.” He shakes his head, adding quietly, “he probably would have done just that, had it not most likely resulted in either waking you up or making you hit the floor.”

You snap your eyes to his, amusement clear in his light blues, but you say nothing as his words sink in.

“I’ve known that Punk my whole life, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Nor have I ever had him look at me the way he did when he walked in here and saw us. If I knew any better, I’d say he was jealous.” He breaks the eye contact, looking ahead of himself, “that’s a lie. I know for a fact he was.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You whisper, “don’t friends have this unspoken packed to hold each other's secrets for life?”

He looks thoughtful for a second, before he side eyes you, “Normally yeah, I’ll take that guys secrets to the grave with me. But in this case, I’m worried he won’t make a move fast enough and then you’ll be gone, and he’ll have missed his only shot.”

This time you scoff, once again looking down at your phone. “What, do you not like Kelly or something?”

“Kelly?” He questions, sounding confused. “As in the HR chick?”

“I dunno,” you shrug, finally typing a reply to John as a distraction from the current topic. “Is that what she does here? She’s with HR?”

“What does she have to do with any of this?”

You halt your fingers, furrowing your brows, “I don’t see how she wouldn’t play a part in all of this,” you look at him, as if he has three heads. “She is kinda Steve’s girlfriend, after all.”

His eyes widen at your words, completely taken aback for a moment, before he chuckles and shakes his head. “Who told you that?”

You scrunch up your nose, “no one, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that they’re together.”

He opens his mouth but Sam’s voice echoing through the room cuts him off before he can even start. “Tin Man, Cap needs ya up front.”

Bucky nods, standing, “I’ll be right back, Doll.”

You turn your attention back to your phone, giving a small, quick wave off in reply, but not saying anything else, as you finish your message to John.

You step purposefully down the Quinjets ramp, wanting to get on with this all so that you can finally head home and get the hell away from these people. From Steve.

You’d ended up sending off that message to John and then sitting silently and alone for the next half hour, wracking your brain about everything. Buck never ended up coming back, neither did Steve, no one came to join you actually. Which was both a blessing and a curse.

You had the time you so desperately needed to think and breathe, but then it quickly turned to too much time as your mind began overthinking everything. Panicking about every little thing. The anxiety quickly skyrocketed within you and by the time the futuristic aircraft touched down, you were a frantic mess and more than ready to get the hell out of that flying tin can.

You didn’t wait for anyone, you didn’t ask for permission, the second the quinjet was fully settled on the ground, you got up and hit the button to lower the ramp. You didn’t need back up, nor did you need anyone following behind and slowing you down. You could do this entirely on your own, just as you had been doing for years. Heinrich was just a man, and no match for the likes of you. A pure-bred, fully trained warrior Wolf.

Yeah, no, Heinrich was fucking doomed. And to make matters worse, you were now irritable and cranky as hell. So he wasn’t exactly in for a treat when you did finally find him, you’d release all your pent up emotions on the hunt and capture of him and his henchman.

‘Let me at em,’ your wolf happily yips in your mind. ‘I haven’t had a good workout in over a week, I’m dying for a long run and a glorious take down.’

‘Me too, girl,’ you nod, ‘me too.’

You’d woken your wolf up as the aircraft was touching down, knowing she’d be too excited and distracted by the prospect of a hunt to even think of bringing Steve up again. So here you both were fully stepping off the Quinjet’s ramp and taking a deep inhale of the glorious forest air. This was your domain, this was the shit you were made for. This was the terrain you thrived in. Dense forests and never ending mountain ranges. You were at your best in locations like this, the lack of human presence allowing your heightened senses a small reprieve.

When you were in large cities, or heavily populated areas, it made pinpointing an exact scent rather difficult. Not impossible by any means, but it definitely took longer to hon in on it. And usually you’d have something that belonged to your target, so you’d know your ‘paydays’ scent signature before hand and could then search for the match.

However, you had nothing of Heinrich’s, so you’d have to just pinpoint any and all foreign smells that didn’t belong to the natural woods, and then track every one till you could actually set eyes on your guy. Thus allowing you to finally know his smell and use that to monitor and track him for a day or two, just while you checked the surrounding area fully, and worked out a feasible take down plan.

You glance around then readjust your large bag on your shoulder before setting off. You planned to get a little ways away from the Quinjet and then you’d put the things you needed in your special backpack and hide the rest. Once that was done, you’d shift into your wolf and allow her to take over. If it meant being in your wolf form for days, that was totally fine. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

Shifting back and forth between both forms was exhausting and took a lot out of you both, you’d need to sleep way more if you continuously shifted between the two. So once you became a wolf, you’d stay that way till you found him, only switching back to take him down as the less humans who know of your kind, the better.

Just as you are reaching the tree line, a loud voice sends a shiver down your spin as you cringed inwardly. Knowing exactly who that deep voice belongs to, and having hoped you’d get away before anyone noticed you were even gone. Mainly before he noticed you were.

“Y/N!”

‘He’s coming,’ your wolf says in a sing song voice. ‘Though sadly not in the way I wish he would.’

You halt your steps, ignoring her dirty remarks as you slowly spin on your heel to face him, groaning softly when you see his large, beautiful form running towards you now. How can one man be so damn attractive?!

‘Just imagine how he’d look with no clothes on right now,’ she purrs and you groan softly again. Because yeah, you totally just imagined it. Fuck.

A moment after he’d reached your spot, and still neither of you had uttered so much as a peep. Both just standing there awkwardly staring at each other. You sigh deeply, finally deciding to speak first, “can I help you Steve?”

“Where are you going?” He frowns down at you.

“I’m going to track down Heinrich,” you supply slowly, almost confused as to why he’d even need to ask that question.

“Alone?”

‘Not if you join us, big boy,’ your wolf replies. ‘The things we could do alone with him out here. Woo, I’m getting all hot and bothered just thinking about it,’ her tongue playfully falls from her mouth, dangling out of it.

You shush her as you glance around, the two of you being the only ones currently standing here. Then you nod slowly, biting your tongue to hold back the sarcastic remark now sitting on it’s tip. The one begging to be said. “Yes, alone,” you decide to say instead.

His frown is instantly gone as an intense emotion flashes through his beautiful eyes. Too fast for you to be able to catch, but judging by the vibes now coming off the large super soldier, he’s a wee bit mad at you. He shakes his head, “you weren’t even planning to tell any of us you were leaving, were you?”

“I wasn’t,” you agree, unfazed. “I will track him down and then radio you all the exact coordinates so you can come retrieve him and his men.”

“That’s it?” He says quickly. “You were just going to hitch a ride here, and then leave us all high and dry while you handled everything by yourself. What if you can’t take them all down on your own, Y/N, what then?”

‘Did he just—’ she gasps, feigning outrage. ‘Nope, nuh uh, he needs to be punished for that. Tell him to bend over, he’s getting an ass smack for questioning our skills.’ Though the wide cheeky grin now on her face tells you she just wants a reason to touch his butt, and that almost makes you laugh.

But you push it down and instead just shrug nonchalantly at him, “didn’t even think about that, as it would never even be a possibility. I know for a fact I can take every one of them down quickly, efficiently and entirely on my own. So no point in risking harm to you or any of your team. You guys can’t take time off to heal, you have an entire world to protect every day, whereas I do not.”

He shakes his head, the angry vibes rolling off him only getting more intense with each passing second, “what if you get hurt or captured or, or worse, and I—we have no clue where you are?”

“I won’t,” you affirm. Your wolf nodding in your mind in agreement.

He makes a noise at the back of his throat and you almost collapse right there and then, because it honestly sounded just like a growl. Oh Goddess, he growls too?! You are dead. This man has killed you—

“You are just so damn cocky!” He bellows lowly, his heated glare searing right through your skin now. Or at least it feels like it is, but you can’t tear your eyes away from him at the moment to actually check for burns. “You think you’re so invincible, and that nothing or no one can even touch you, but they can, Y/N. And one day they will.” He pauses and sighs deeply, as if attempting to quell his anger. “You don’t have to do this alone, and you can’t be so reckless all the time, you need to be more cautious with your safety. If something ever happened to you, I don’t,” he trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose as he clenches his eyes shut.

After a moment of this you reach out for his forearm, and urge him to continue gently, “You don’t, what?”

He sighs again as his eyes open as lock on yours, while he quietly says, “I know we barely know each other, but if anything happened to you, Y/N, I dunno what I’d do with myself.”

‘Oh my Goddess,’ your wolf says breathlessly, ‘did your heart just flutter from that too? Or was it just mine?!’

You sigh, it wasn’t just hers, yours had fluttered as well. You’d barely had any fight in you to begin with, but you sure as shit don’t have any left now. Not with his soft, shaky and slightly scared words replaying in your mind.

“Look Steve, I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record here,” you deflate a little, “but I meant it when I said I’m used to going it alone. I’m not used to having people to rely on, and I’m definitely not used to having people worry about me. I know you can’t understand why I’m able to be so,” you scrunch up your nose at his choice of words, “cocky. But I promise you, I know exactly what I’m capable of and just how far I can take that. What may seem reckless to you, is in fact timid in comparison to my true skills. And that’s not being full of myself, that’s being entirely honest. There is so much you don’t know about me, or this world, and if you did, you’d fully understand why I am the way I am.”

He stares at you intensely for a moment, before his eyes drift slowly over your whole form. The look in them as they skim your every bump and curve, causes the fine hairs on your body to stand tall at his appraising. “Then show me,” he challenges as his eyes finally connect with yours again.

‘We’ll show you something alright,’ she says flirtatiously.

“Steve,” you groan, feeling entirely flustered at not only the full scan you’d just received but your wolfs words as well. “It’s not that simple. You aren’t ready to find out just yet, and I refuse to push you into this all before you’re ready.”

“I’m not letting you go it alone, now that I’ve caught you. So you might as well just show me, or I’m sure I’ll just figure it out on my own eventually.” He shrugs, “Plus I’m a fast learner, if you hadn’t already gathered that yet.”

You glare up at him, not enjoying that he is forcing your hand here. You could just agree to this all and then promptly lose him in the woods somewhere close by so he could find the Quinjet again. Yeah, that could work.

‘That is a horrible fucking plan,’ your wolf rolls her eyes. ‘What if he gets lost? What if he gets hurt?’

‘We could deal with those possibilities when or if they arise. He’s a smart guy, he’s made it his entire life without us watching out for him.’

‘Maybe so, but he is our responsibility now. We aren’t just going to ditch him in the middle of the woods, so get that idea out of your head.’

‘You know that means he’ll have to learn what we are then,’ you point out. ‘He isn’t ready for that just yet.’

‘Oh pfft,’ she drags out the sound, ‘he totally is. And I’m ready for my close up, I want him to see my full form,’ she give you a wolfish grin. ‘It’s my turn to show off.’

‘Fine,’ you grumble, knowing you aren’t going to win this one. You are smart enough to know when to pick your battles with her. And this is not one you should choose.

You sigh, defeatedly, “Fine, you can tag along. But if you slow me down, I’ll leave you behind,” you warn, pointing a finger up at the tall mountain of a man.

“Whether or not I was joining you was never up for debate,” he says, raising a brow at you as if curious why your response to him didn’t really line up, or make sense. If only he knew you were currently having two conversations at once. Though from the looks of it, he’ll know that little fact soon enough. “I told you I wasn’t letting you go alone. The only thing in question now is how I’m going to learn what this secret information about you is.”

Shit. Right. “Ah, yeah, yes. That. Um,” you glance around, still not seeing anyone nearby. Your eyes lock with his, “alright, I’ll tell you. Just not here.” You turn on your heel and continue on your way, not checking if he is following or not because A) you know he wouldn’t let you get away now. And B) you can still smell him behind you.

You both walk in silence for a while, your wolf is nonstop harassing you to tell him already so she can come out to ‘play’, her words, not yours. And they only stand to make you more nervous about this all now—I mean, she isn’t going to just straight up mount him. It doesn’t really have the same affect as you’re kind of a woman and all. And I guess she can’t exactly talk to him either, so that helps.

But yet deep down you still just know, she will find some way to embarrass you both, and you really aren’t interested in that at the moment.

‘Oh, I’d straight up mount him in a heartbeat. Don’t count that out just yet,’ she comments unhelpfully. ‘Though, I’d prefer it if he mounted me.’

‘Okay, nope, fuck this. This isn’t happening today,’ you shake your head, in your head. And yeah, it’s still weird. ‘We will just plan to do this some other time.’

She rolls her eyes, ‘please. Waiting won’t change a damn thing. This is going to have to be done eventually, so just embrace it and let it happen. Because either way, when it does happen, someone is getting mounted. Jury’s just still out on whether it will be us or him, though.’

You groan internally at her. ‘You honestly just have no chill. You know that?’

‘Oh, I’m well aware,’ she snickers, ‘that man just steams all the chill right out of me. Him and his ridiculously hot body.’ She sighs dreamily, ‘I mean just look at his ass, you could bounce a damn quarter off that thing.’

You side eye Steve’s ass, him having fallen into step beside you now, and groan internally again. Agitated by the fact she is entirely correct, you probably could bounce a quarter off it.

“You okay?” His voice snaps you back to reality.

“I’m sorry?” You stupidly ask, unsure why he choose now, of all times, to speak up. As if he could read your mind, and thank Goddess he can’t yet, that would not be good currently.

“You just randomly groaned, are you okay?” He clarifies and you instantly realize that the action you thought was internal, was in fact the opposite of that.

“Oh, ah,” your steps falter for a second, as your wolf’s cackles echo in your mind. “I just thought of something. It’s not important though,” you wave it off.

She abruptly stops laughing, as she wryly says, ‘wow, amazing excuse again. Did that take long to come up with?’ To which you just shush her again.

“Oh yeah?” He glances down at you as you both continue to walk. “And what was that?” He challenges, and the disbelieving amusement in his voice is as loud as a damn drum.

You scrunch up your features, knowing you have no response to that question. “Like I said, not important. But uh,” you pause, trying to figure out something to say to change the topic of this conversation. “So you got my reference to Leela this morning?”

‘Good save,’ she rolls her eyes.

He chuckles, the sound informing you that he is well aware you are trying to distract him. But luckily he bites, “I did. I’ve watched a few of the seasons.”

“I can’t believe you’ve watched Futurama,” you giggle, the image of the 100 year old, super soldier sitting in front of a TV watching Bender get drunk and Fry navigate the new world flashing in your mind. “Who told you to watch it?”

“It’s definitely an acquired taste,” he chuckles and shakes his head. “And Tony did, it was actually at the top of his list of ‘things I needed to catch up on’. He said I’d be able to relate with Fry, and everything he’d been through. I had no idea what he meant by that till I started watching it and yeah, I get what he meant now.”

“Oh my Goddess,” you instantly halt your steps, bursting out laughing as you realize what he’s talking about. Fry was frozen in time and woke up far in the future. Holy shit, that’s the greatest thing you’ve ever heard. You’re laughing so hard you have to actually bend over to place your hands on your knees so you don’t collapse.

You finally calm yourself down after a few moments, “I can’t believe I didn’t even think of that. Oh man, I am totally going to high five Tony when we get back. He really is a genius.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty fitting show. Though there were a bunch of things I didn’t fully understand, but it had it’s funny moments for sure.” He laughs and shakes his head, “please don’t tell Tony that genius part, it will just go right to his already large ego.”

“Deal,” you nod, still laughing a little. “I’ll keep that comment to myself.”

He smiles down at you in thanks and then you both continue on a little ways, talking about the things he’s caught up on, and stuff he still needs to. You give him a few suggestions, knowing he’ll have similar tastes to you. Ya know, since you’re Fated Mates and all.

You reach a small clearing and decide this is as good a place as any to finally let your secret out. You halt your steps and Steve does as well. “I think here is good.” You drop your bag on the ground, opening it and pulling out your special backpack. You quickly shift the few things you need into it, before walking over to the tree line to hide your duffle bag and left over clothes. Then you make your way back to Steve, standing beside your backpack that is now just sitting on the ground.

“Now you have to promise not to freak out, okay?” You say hesitantly, you can even hear the nerves now in your voice. So you know for a fact Steve can as well.

He furrows his brows but nods, “okay.”

You glance around, taking a moment to level out your breathing. “This will be a little intense to watch the first time. But don’t panic, I would never hurt you, nor would ah,” you falter unsure what to call her, “nor would my um, my alter ego. Trust me, she already adores you, so the only thing you are at risk of is being licked.” You sigh, mumbling to yourself, “and possibly being mounted.”

His eyes go wide at that, “being what?”

“Shit,” you cringe, “you heard that?”

He stares at you for a second, then nods and you can now see a sparkle in his eyes. He is clearly finding this funny, or amusing at the very least. “Who exactly is planning to mount me?”

‘That’d be me,’ she cheekily replies in your head.

“You’ll see,” you sigh. “Now, once I’m shifted, I won’t be able to talk to you. But I will be able to hear and understand you. I’ll only shift for a few moments so you can get a feel for everything and then we can have a small talk about it, if you want. Okay?”

“Shift?” He gives you a once over again, much quicker this time. “Shift into what?”

“It’s honestly easier to just show you. If I told you, you’d probably think I was crazy. I’ll wait till you’re ready,” you say as you bend down and untie your shoes, kicking them off and removing your socks before putting them all in your bag.

“Okay,” he says slowly, taking a small step back. “I think I’m ready.”

You nod, reaching down for the hem of your shirt and instantly seeing Steves eyes hon in on your movements. You falter for just a second, you’ve never been embarrassed by nudity before, but this is an entirely new experience for you. This is your True Mate, this will be the first time he ever lays eyes on your naked form. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if he isn’t ready to see all of you yet? Humans are so weird about this stuff.

“Um, unless you want a show, I’d maybe recommend you turn around for this part.”

His eyes flick up to yours, as if he’d just been totally distracted by what your hands were about to do. He doesn’t say anything, nor does he turn around, so you assume that’s the go ahead for you to continue. You quickly pull the shirt over your head, pushing it into your backpack and then moving to remove your jeans next. You undo the button, and lower the zipper, then tug them down your legs and put them in your bag as well. Leaving you just in your undergarments, standing in a field, in front of your True Mate.

Who honestly looks completely lost currently. Like he has no clue what is going on, or what he should be doing at the moment. But as if like a punch to the stomach, he snaps out of it and his eyes slowly drift over your near naked form. The intense trail they travel along leaving you hot and flustered, as goosebumps rise over the skin under is unwavering gaze.

When his eyes finally reach yours again, they are considerably darker. And you can’t miss the lust now swimming within them. He takes a small step towards you, and oh Goddess, now all you can think about is jumping this man, right here in this field and having your way with him.

Your hands reach behind and unclasp your bra, and that seems to snap him out of the heated standoff you are both currently stuck in. Instantly his cheeks begin to turn bright red, the colour moving up from his neck at a rapid pace and ending in his ears. He abruptly spins around, “I’m ah,” he clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just stand there, staring.”

You grin at how flustered he is now, glad you aren’t the only one, “I didn’t mind at all. You could have kept staring, wouldn’t have bothered me any.”

“That’s um,” you see his head shake. “That’s okay, I shouldn’t have been watching. I should have given you your privacy when you first started doing um,” he gestures with a hand behind himself, towards you, “that.”

You chuckle, “it’s okay, Steve. You don’t have to feel awkward or guilty for wanting to watch. Trust me, nudity doesn’t bother me in the slightest. You’ll figure that out soon enough.” You remove your bra, your panties following right behind and then tuck them both in the bag before zipping it up and attaching it to your back.

“Okay, but why are you ah,” he shifts a little on his feet, “getting undressed, exactly?”

“You’ll see in a few seconds,” you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and focusing your thoughts on your wolf. Pulling her to the front of your mind and giving her full control of the reigns. It only takes a few seconds to shift and land on all fours, you now being the voice inside her head as she takes on the entire command of this forms movements.

And now your heart is pumping wildly in your chest, because here it is. The moment of truth. Is he going to be okay with this? Or is he going to take one look at you and run in the complete opposite direction? Oh Goddess, please let him be good with all of this. Not only for your sake, but for your wolf’s, as well.

With a deep breath in, you prepare yourself for what’s about to unfold. Because it’s now or never.

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

@caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @jasminecalia @jessiedaeum @capricornprince118 @sister-of-stars @wiserebelpartypie

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 2

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 31: I went to Tesco’s at Hampton at @8pm. It was weird. But I made it less weird by buying (amongst all the legit stuff I needed and some stuff for Karen’s mum) more booze. I have, atm about 30 assorted cans and 60 assorted bottles. I’m gonna stop buying booze now until I’m down to the last dozen. I don’t want owt to happen and I leave many behind!

Day 32: More than a calender month! I was rung up by a recruitment agent today about a contract with DHL as a remote support engineer to their aviation section. €400 a day! I’ve applied. Few beers tonight, watching a new Netflix release (Extraction) and catching up with Fog, Ham, Andy and Rog later at 10:30pm - yikes, might be pissed.

Day 33: Typing this on day 34. Dossed around during the day, few beers and another video call with fog, Ham and Rig plus I invited John Monk along. He was his usual self and signed off from the call with a moonie! Later on I had the pleasure of Scottish Louise video calling me! She was pissed, in her shed drinking den at her home with some neighbour called Ronnie and her daughter Ellie. She was her usual outrageous self who imaprted such gems as “Tim, you look old” and “Roger on coke is the only time I’ve taken it up the arse”. Nice.

Day 34: Today I skyped Laurie and ‘met’ Matthew and Nicholas for the first time. It was bloody fantatsic. Janine was there as well.I cannot believe it takes lockdown (plus an idea to get Laurie to add me to his regular Monday skype chat with Dad) that managed to get us doing something that should have happened years ago! It was so great to talk to them all face-to-face. Janine hasn’t changed a bit, Matthew is very quiet with Nicholas being the more gregorious twin. And Laurie is still Laurie. I’m reminded of how much I sort of miss him! It was all so comfortable. I loved it! Tomorrow is Dad’s 85th hence the 3-way chat idea. I hope it comes off!

Day 35: So dad and Laurie and I skyped. It was OK but my video feed was very dark, (still dunno why) and Lauire’s kept freezing. I dropped out so as to leave them to it, my thinking being the extra person takes up bandwidth, with the promise I’d call dad later. Before I could, Rita called me and suggested Dad and I skype, which we did. So, all in all, a good day of comms! And Dad seems his happy usual self - 85 years old! Amazing.

Day 36: I am really struggling to motivate myself this week. Today, I’ve done fuck all of note. That is all.

Day 37: A similar day to yesterday. All I have really managed to do is lay down audio from Pink Floyd (Absolutely Curtains) to a video I shot of a cow on yesterday’s walk. I am having a downer of a week without any good reason why, ld aside. I have worn my new walking boots today (’cos my old ones are leaking, I found out yesterday) and they fucking hurt, despite having tried to wear them in for months, albeit pathetically. Also, a few days ago (Friday 24th April), I got notification from HM Revenue & Customs that I’m getting tax rebate (from 2018-19) of £392. Yay!

Day 38: I received notification today that I’ve got a speeding ticket…last Thursday back from Tesco’s - 87mph somewhere between the A1 and Elton. I am hoping it’s a fixed penalty. I dunno whether it is yet, I just have to send the form off confirming it’s my car and I was driving. I spoke with Lynda from Woodfords asking her to ask for a rent reduction before I sign for another year. Plus, I let her know that I will be Howard and Sue’s eyes as the look at rental properties in Oundle - I do hope they return although it would be a shame for them that their plans have been scuppered (she’s lost her job in Oz due to Covid-19)

Day 39: Today I started another piece of exercise - up and down the stairs 26 times. Not sure why 26 - it was some thing online to do with the London Marathon, I think. It fucking killed. I used 13 clothes pegs for a counting system. I asked Karen to pick up some stuff when she was shopping (burgers, radishes) - Dan dropped them off, He was with Shaggy (driving his van) and going to see Jonah. That pisses me off - they should be social distancing, ffs.

Discoevered, today, that Cornershop, post-Brinful are fucking excellent. listening to the album ‘England is a Garden’ as I type.

Day 40: That 26 times up and down the stairs is fucking hard. I did videos about it today. My legs are aching like fuck right now.

Day 41: Just done Young Sam’s (Sam Clews) quiz. 3rd week running and it’s now become a habit and something I look forward to. Out of all the internet driven socialising I’m undertaking in ld, this is the weirdest - I feel totally detatched from all others taking part but, now, would feel pissed off if I didn’t or couldn’t join in. I got 47/70 this week. My best score and only about 8 off the winning score  -  most others aren’t doing it on their own!

Today’s walk was a cloudy one - I captured some fine, dramatic pics of the clouds. I am getting into this photography lark, albeit very amateurish. But, when I post any pics online (mostly FB), they seem to be widely appreciated, which is nice.

Day 42: Applied for a remote service delivery job with a firm called TTEC. £60k. Finished watching The Outsider. The creepiest TV show I have seen in years. Really great use of background music.

Day 43: Finished Mindhunter S2 last night. It’s so good but I cannot quite put my finger on why. Today has been a nothing day apart from day 2 of me not typing the letter ‘e’ in any post or comments on FB for a week. It’s hard.

Day 44: Watch Anna last night. A Luc Besson film that starts a kick-ass suprermodel. It’s right down my street. Today I have been lazy af. I need to pick up my online learning again…tomorrow, maybe! I watched Andy Murray Resurfacing. A documentary on Amazon. Fantastic. What a top man he is. Completely human and completely inhuman!

Day 45: Much talk in the news of possible lockdown relaxation. I am off the opinion we should stay the course until we are completely assured of beathing this thing i.e. a working, widely available vaccine. Dad and I Skyped - he is doing well, as usual. So is Rita. They both seem very happy in lockdown! Today has been a glorious day, weather wise. I had my walkk at 10ish this morming and it was very warm. Hottest day of the year so far I reckon.

Day 46: Bank holiday Friday (75th anniversary of VE day). Nice walk. Chat with Karen letting her know about being caught speeding just in case I am banned and need some out of town shopping. Watched second episode of DEVS by Alex Garland. It’s good and intriguing. Now, @7pm, gonna eat and hit the beers and smokes.

Day 47: Typing this at 15:45 on day 48. I had lots of beers and a good old chat with Rog…

Day 48: Today’s daily press conference was eagerly anticipated today with rumours of a relaxation in lockdown. It seems it was a fuss about nothing with no clear instructions - I didn’t watch it but, skimming the BBC news site, I shan’t be doing anything different over the next few weeks, not that I would anyway - furlough and self isolation are the order of the day and I won’t change that until I am sure it’s safe. Meanwhile people, including Danny flaunt the rules, it’s been pointed out to me plus I know he spends time with Jonah and Marc. It really fucks me off. So, the actions of the few mean I will lock myself down for as long, if not longer, as it takes. Attended Sam Clews quiz again. It passes the time. Also, I had half a scotch bonnet chilli with tea tonight (roasted veg, cous cous and sausages). Ridiculously hot!

Day 49: Received the speaker I ordered a few days ago (from eBay). It’s an AudioPro Addon T10. I got it for a very reasonable price from a German shop. As a result, the power lead isn;t three pin and that has seriously fucked me right off!

Meanwhile, I did my 26 stair climb before my daily walk today. It was easier than usual (surprise surprise) and I did 7km - but that was tough! ‘Cos I am on (yet another) free trial of Amazon Prime, I am ramping up watching stuff available. Last night I watched Booksmart - really nice little film with a great soundtrack. I am listening to Dan the Automater as I type. Today I watched half (3 eps) of The Night Manager and the film ‘The Founder’. The former is a superb series, the latter an OK film about Ray Kroc - the supposed founder of McDonald’s. Except he wasn’t; he was the wrong side of ambitious and a cunt.

Day 50: Stripped the 2 pin cable from the speaker I received yesterday and wired up a 3 pin plug and it worked. Win. And it sounds great. Win-win. Went to go shopping in Hampton but the car wouldn’t start. Loss. But it was the battery so I managed to borrow Karen’s jump starter which worked. Win.

Spent £107. Loss. But just under £40 was booze plus £10 for two big pizzas, two sides (dirty fries) and some dips. Win. Didn’t do any online learning - seriously fucking letting myself down. Loss.

Did my usual walking and 26 stair climb. The latter is hard but defo getting easier. Win. Day 51: Sam’s 51st birthday on day 51 - coincidence! Today I received my face mask from Lou - House of Stewart tartan. I’m pleased with it and that I have got a mask now. I managed to get up at a reasonable hour, just left 09:00, and revisit my web design course. Module 1, lesson 5 and I am fucking stuck. Trying to code an online CV with a side nav bar and I cannot get it to fucking work. Grrrrrr. Later, i got into a FB dispute (easily distracted due to the above) with someone over his statement of fact (Tim Martin’s treatment of Whetherspoons’ employees) when he doesn’t know it’s fact. It probably is, but that is not the fucking point.  I wish I could leave these sort of spats alone. I am drinking, at 20:45, peppermint tea as I type. Jeez, what’s happened to me?

Day 52: Well, last night took a swift chnage. Rog message me and, to cut a long story short, I hit the beers, also called Foggy later, got trashed. I got up today at gone 1pm. Sam posted on fb that Paul had forgort her birthday yesterday. Oh dear! The 26 stair climb and walking each day is noticeable for how knackered my legs feel all the time, I noticed today!

Day 53: My birthday! Nice comments and banter of FB. Rachael brought round a bottle of whisky; gobsmacked. Karen popped round some beers and sausage rolls. Sam sent a card, as did dad with a £50 cheque. Dan’s ordering me a pizza later.

Chuffed! Day 54: I went to bed late after a lot of beers, huge pizza and chips, a few smokes and a long call with WWJ and video chats with Fog then Rog. Got up around 1pm and dossed with my usual exercises and I made fish pie with a scotch bonnet. Day 55: Late one last night but up early today (11ish). Really fretting about hospital tomorrow. Nervous anyway but the safety aspect, in terms of Covid-19, isn’t helping.

Day 56: Hospital appointment was just for an eye scan so the consultant can review it. I was very surprised to see how few people were wearing face masks! I did two lots of washing today. (After the hospital) I went to Morrsions, Asda (queue too long though), B&M (queue too long though) then Tesco’s. All to buy a baseball cap ‘cos I’m fucked if I’m going to wet my hair each time I go out and want it to look presentable! In Morrsions (no mens’ clothing apart from underwear!) I stocked up of 10 cans of sugarfree apple Caraboa….I was only thinking of this drink just the other day. Yesterday I finished The Night Manager on Amazon. I liked it a lot but, also, expected much, much more from it consdiering the hype. Hugh Laurie has come a long way from comedy sketches with Stephen Fry!

Day 57:Received an email from Sueanne yesterday asking ( as designated spokesperson for everyone) how I am. The most interestring piece of news in a rather uninformative email was that the US has started to open resorts!

Day 58: I am writing this on Day 59. I started a two walk a day regime. The first walk I do is shorter, around 4km. my aim is to be ready for 1,000,000 steps Diabetic UK challenge (throughout July, August and September). I need to do just under 11,000 steps a day. The relaxation in ld rules makes this achievable. On that score, I am allowed to visit a friend’s house, as long as it’s just the two of us, outside, 2m apart. I went round Karen’s last night. I was desperate to have a Happy Hour (I allow myself a midweek beer - today (well, yesterday) is/was Wednesday!) of sorts with another human (rather than a video chat). I was there for about 2 hours, very enjoyable, and then came home. Then I had usual roasted veg with rice and sausages but I couldn’t eat it. I used half a scotch bonnet rather than the usual birdeye chillis. It was too hot, had to sling it! Had a few more beers and, hence, neglected my diary duties!

Day 59: It’s 01:20am. I don’t know why I am still awake and up, but I am. But, also, I am now going to bed. Nothing else to report, really.

Day 60: Half way through 12 weeks furlough. I was discussing this with Dad and Rita earlier - I am expecting that, at the end of 12 weeks, I’ll be laid off. I hope I’m wrong but I reckon it’s well on the cards. Off to have a beer round Karen’s in a sec which will be pleasant. Just a hour or so. It’s fucking windy today so I shall wrap up!

[dancingkirby]

Angst, angst, and more angst

Ficlet set in the aftermath of Sozin’s Comet.

They’d just…left her. Her shoulders were sore and her hands were numb from being immobilized by the chains.  She had long lost the strength to maintain a kneeling position, and had fallen over on her side. As the comet disappeared and the sky grew ever darker, her chills and pain returned tenfold.

At first, Azula thought that she’d cry forever, but eventually her tears dried up and her sobs faded.  Father would be back any minute, she told herself.  He would take care of Zuko for good this time, and restore her to her place at his side; at long last his consort in name as well as in practice.  She’d failed him, of course, and he’d have to punish her again, but she remained hopeful that she could still redeem herself.

He never showed up.

Why hadn’t that water peasant just killed her?! Better that than to be utterly humiliated like this.

Although she’d barely slept for the past three days, slumber remained elusive to her now.  It was odd, how time passed when one was awake all night. It seemed to stand still, yet at the same time there was never enough of it.  

She was left to her own thoughts, with neither sound nor sight to relieve the imperturbable stillness of the dark.  

You’re all alone.  Alonealonealone.

Father has no place for weaklings.

You let a mere peasant girl get the best of you.  Pathetic.

They’re just going to leave you out here until you die.

It wasn’t until there was a hint of light in the east that she finally saw two people approaching her.  She was happy to see that one of them was Dr. Huang, the court physician.  He had always been steadfastly loyal to Father, and had been one of the few palace staff that she hadn’t banished.  When he reached her, he softened the chains with firebending enough for them to slip off.  She tried to move her arms, but gasped as she felt a horrible pain in her left shoulder.

“Don’t move,” Dr. Huang cautioned her.  Then, as he checked her over, “Fever.”  This last word was said in a voice tight with anger.  For an instant, she thought that the doctor was somehow mad at her for having a fever, but then he added, “What possessed you to leave her like this?!”

“There was no way we could have known!  It wasn’t like she told us!” the other voice protested. The water peasant. Azula struggled to reach the girl who had imprisoned her, but her weak attempts were no match for Dr. Huang’s strong grip.

“Don’t move,” he cautioned Azula.  “You might injure yourself worse that way.”  Then, to the water peasant, “If this were any other circumstance, I would have ordered your arrest on the spot, and you would have likely been executed.  Consider yourself lucky that my hands are tied.”

Azula couldn’t see the face of the water peasant from this position.  But she did hear her grinding her teeth before she spat, “Fine. I’ll try to heal her shoulder. The swelling needs to go down before you can work on it anyway.”

While she was preparing to do this, Dr. Huang quickly removed two flasks from his robes and poured the contents of both into a single cup.

“Please drink this,” he said to Azula.  “The first draught will help your fever and pain, and the second will make you relax.”

It tasted disgusting, and she didn’t particularly want to relax, but it seemed she had no choice in the matter.  Seconds later, she began feeling drowsy.  A stretcher had been brought, and she recalled being lifted onto it, and nothing more.

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

Azula remained in a semi-conscious state for quite some time.  Whenever she was close to resurfacing, they made her drink that nasty brew again.  Later, the only clear image she’d have of that time was Ursa, who wouldn’t go away no matter how much Azula shouted at her.  

When she finally awakened fully, she found herself lying in a bed in the palace infirmary. Her left arm was in a sling, and her right arm was hooked to an IV, so she was essentially trapped.  A few minutes later, a nurse came to check on her, saw that she was awake, and ran to get Dr. Huang.  The doctor told her that four days had passed since the comet.

“You were treated for dehydration, exhaustion, and a dislocated shoulder,” he stated.  Even in her less-than-optimal mental state, Azula could detect the hidden meaning.  It was the truth, but not the entire truth.  That’s the story, his eyes said, and I’m sticking to it.

He continued, “Once you are medically cleared, your brother the Fire Lord has arranged for you to move into a chronic care facility so you can rest your mind and recover.”

Her brother the…what?!  Where was Father?  

“Phoenix King Ozai was deposed, and your brother was crowned just this morning,” Dr. Huang explained.  Azula felt like she’d been punched in the gut.  She jerked forward, but her momentum was halted by that stupid IV line. Even without it, though, she doubted she had the energy to even get out of bed.  She was still sick, and still in pain.  However, Dr. Huang appeared in perfect health.

“You did nothing about it?  Coward,” she hissed, her voice not as strong as she had hoped.  Apparently, the good doctor was only loyal when it suited him. She spotted Ursa standing in the corner of the room, and told her, “Get out.  This discussion does not concern you.”

“Who are you talking to?” Dr. Huang asked.

“No one,” Azula spat.

“Yes, well…” he said. “Right now, you need to focus only on resting.  Here is a note with my recommendations.”  He passed a folded piece of paper to her, and his eyes once again glimmered with the unspoken.

Once she was out of the room, she fumbled with the paper one-handed until she got it unfolded. It said:

BURN THIS AFTER READING.

Please have patience.  There are many of us who remain loyal to the rightful ruler, and we will make arrangements for his glorious return as soon as possible.

Azula sighed as she disposed of the note as ordered.  Even he had forgotten that she was a ruler, too.

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

She was kept in the infirmary for quite some time, and underwent a seemingly endless battery of evaluations.  There were the physical therapists, who were there to torture her shoulder and make sure she could still walk.  And then there were some people who kept asking idiotic and repetitive questions, and duly writing down every single one of her replies…even if it was something like “Go fuck yourself,” which it was more often than not.

Zuzu never visited her, nor did she want him to.

Life was in limbo here, and Azula found it difficult to keep track of the days.  To the best of her knowledge, it had been about another week when the sling came off, and she was transported to her new home of hopefully short duration.  Zuko had arranged for the palanquin to be driven into the palace itself, so no one outside would catch even a glimpse of her face.  This was ostensibly for her own protection, although she knew the real reason was so her haggard appearance wouldn’t incite the general populace to rebellion.

When the palanquin reached its destination and she was helped out, she surveyed her surroundings. Mental Hospital for Highborn Ladies, the sign said.  Azula wished that they’d drop the pretenses and call it a prison like it actually was.

She tuned out the pompous man who introduced himself as Dr. Yisheng as he droned on about amenities, privileges, rules, and expectations.  There was no need to listen to any of it, since she would not be staying here for long.   She knew better than to depend on those who called themselves her allies, no matter how clever they thought they were with their little notes.  Once the staff here let their guard down, she’d be out of here.

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

The next morning, she threw up.

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Charlie’s 5✩ Inspiration: Daytime Spiritualities [昼日疑魂] Date Translation (END 1: Do Nothing)

“If you're scared, then just say so. Your Fiancé's arms are always open to you.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Charlie’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *5✩ Inspirations have 5 Endings!! *Charlie’s tag will be #For Night, For Paradox

✥ Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]  

Should I say that I'm scared? Now that makes me look like a coward. But, to say that I'm not scared? Then, this seemingly loses what it means to watch a horror movie…

I hesitated for a while, only to maintain my silence.

However, the horrific scenes of the movie made me unwittingly cover my eyes.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Then, a warm and strong hand covers the back of mine. The darkness seemingly deepened in intensity, yet I gleaned a slight modicum of comfort from it.

Charlie: If you're scared, then just say so.

Charlie: Your Fiancé's arms are always open to you.

Terrifying sounds played by my ears, stimulating my already tense nerves over the edge. I didn't dare to move, only continuing to cover my eyes.

Thankfully, Charlie never once removed his hand.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

With my vision ensnared in darkness, I could acutely feel his fingers resting against my hand.

His fingers were slightly calloused from a long period of handling a scalpel. It conveyed his body warmth, ever so enticing as it travelled down to touch upon my skin in an unfamiliar, yet muted way.

I suddenly felt as if I were one of his patients as he slowly nursed my internal panic and distress.

MC: Charlie.

I pawed at the hem of his clothes in an attempt to say something.

Charlie: Shh… Stop moving around like that if you're scared.

Charlie: Other manners of comfort are to be charged separately.

The eerie sound of footsteps and pained moans continued reverberating through the room, but it all sounded far, far away from me now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The movie ends before we know it after the dazed silence that lapsed.

The projector stopped screening once the movie came to a close. The screen blanked out along with my guilt, panic, and fear.

And I’d completely missed the ending of the movie.

MC: Charlie? Do you remember how the prisoner who was sentenced to death got away?

I thought that Charlie would respond immediately in that prideful tone of his, giving me a clear and concise answer. Hell, I was even prepared to withstand another round of his narcissism if that ever came to pass.

Yet, he sounded a little unsteady and unsure, almost as if he too, was thinking of an appropriate answer.

Charlie: ...How did the prisoner getaway? Simple. He defeated the jailer who imprisoned him. All horror movies end the same way.

MC: He defeated… the jailer?

MC: The jailer here is a figment of his imagination; it doesn’t exist.

MC: The prisoner’s trapped in his own dream.

To prove what I’d said, I quickly pulled up the homepage of the movie where the summary and all the reviews were written. I pointed it out to him.

MC: Look, it’s even written in the movie’s summary…

I raised my head to clarify with him, but Charlie chose to completely ignore me, turning his attention to the plush pillow on the sofa. His eyes were very shifty.

Suspicious. VERY suspicious…

MC: Charlie, you… you didn’t take this movie seriously at all, did you?

Charlie closed his eyes in a slight grimace, his eyebrows knitting…

That reaction…. I KNEW IT.

However, he quickly bounces back from that moment of frustration. His expression suddenly turned serious and exaggeratedly grim.

Charlie: (Y/n), life is but a fleeting one.

The hell is this man talking about!?

I didn’t quite know why, but the serious tone he was taking with me sounded vaguely threatening. I could only nod in accordance.

Charlie: I see that you agree as well.

Charlie: If one wishes to have a glorious life as glamorous as the sun in this fleeting period, then some trivialities will have to be forgone.

Charlie: Alas, that movie earlier was an unfortunate one to have been forgone by this perfect life of mine.

MC: ……

MC: I see. I never knew that there was such a poetic way of saying “I don’t remember”.

Charlie: Who says I don't remember?

Charlie: I remember as clear as the day how my Fiancée got so terrified that she burrowed right into my arms.

I helplessly sighed. Looks like it'll be a long time and a good long way before I'll ever manage to understand how that brain of his works.

MC: Then, does the matter of rating and evaluating this projector still exist in your precious time of existence, Dr. Zha?

Charlie: The projector? Average.

Charlie: It's hard for me to be evaluating a projector below $200,000.

Charlie: But, I can consider using it as a console for couples.

He raised an eyebrow, smiling.

MC: And just where are your thoughts running off to?

Charlie: I'm just giving my honest, unbiased opinion.

Charlie: I hope you can convey this precious review of mine to the brand makers. Consider it my good deed for the day.

MC: Alright, Mr. Charitable.

MC: Now, are you quite done with your charitable acts? I'm going to pack the projector up and send it back.

Charlie: Why?

MC: Because… I feel like I don't really need a home theatre.

Charlie stilled my hand with his own, moving to block the projector off from me.

Charlie: Wait. I’ll take it if you can’t find a use for it.

Charlie: Send it to my house next weekend.

MC: You sure about that?

Charlie: Of course, I naturally have the right to accept any common personal property that my Fiancée chooses to give up.

Charlie: Come to my house next week, and don't stand me up.

With that being said, he confidently walked out of the apartment.

The golden sports car parked by the road gave a tremendous roar as it sped up. It soon faded away, replaced by the ever-present bustle of the people on the streets   

Watching the silhouette of the car gradually disappear, the events of what had gone on within my apartment resurfaced to the forefront of my mind… Charlie was far more bizarre than any horror film I'd ever watched.

However, it’s as if his appearance was slowly lowering my impenetrable guard over my small piece of land.

Now, as for what will appear in the future… Will it be volcanos? Or channels? Who knows; we’ll just have to wait and see.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]  

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Paradox⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

[cakeandpi]

“What’re we talking about?” Diana asks, joining the two. “Kaldur calling us mom.” Shayera says.

(Aftermath)

At the time, it had seemed like a grand idea. M’gann wanted to host a party. Kaldur’s mother, having met M’gann and Conner, wanted to meet the rest his surface friends and teammates. It would kill two birds with one stone. Garth and Tula had smiled broadly when he mentioned the plan to them. Kaldur had not realized until after the four of them had zeta’d to the Cave and stepped onto the beach that he was being set up.

He had exactly two seconds to take in the scene - folding tables and chairs, balloons, streamers, a cake - before a roaring cheer wishing him a ‘happy birthday’ came up from his teammates.

“Did we surprise you?” Garth asks him, as the roar dies down. He is pushed forward, rather than being allowed to flee, by his mother and Tula. “M’gann has been planning this for weeks.”

The team is there before he can muster a reply, and Kaldur manages to summon a genuine smile as he’s surrounded. Tula and Garth have met the team before, but not his mother, so there’s introductions to make, which thankfully shifts the attention away from him for a moment.

But only for a moment, and far too soon he’s being led to the cake and being sung to. He glares at all of them, because they’re horrendously off-key, and he knows they can sing better than that - they had for Wally’s birthday, anyway.

It’s only after they’ve finished and are applauding that he realizes that he heard more voices than the team can account for. Looking up, he finds them. Seated a short distance away, on the abbreviated boardwalk that graces this part of the beach, are Black Canary, Wonder Woman, Hawkwoman, and one more woman that Kaldur recognizes as Artemis’s mom.

He manages to briefly raise a hand in greeting before he’s pulled back into the celebration going on around him. When he manages to resurface, Roy had arrived, cake has been distributed, presents opened (gift cards were a theme, and he hands them over to Roy for safekeeping), and the attention had mostly fallen away from him. Thank Neptune for Artemis. Either she had gotten bored, or else she sensed his discomfort, but she’d drawn most of the team into a game of ‘super death beach volleyball’.

It … seemed rather violent, though he wasn’t sure what he expected from a game Artemis had made up on the spot. He’ll have to keep an eye on it, make sure the game’s title didn’t become literal.

“Traitors,” he mutters under his breath as another round of the game starts.

“What, us?” Tula asks, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Garth gives him a similarly wide-eyed look. “We would never.”

Kaldur just shakes his head - his girlfriend and boyfriend, partners in crime. “Now I have this to look forward to every year.” He gestures at the game with the beer bottle Roy had slipped him. Kaldur had thanked his friend, taken one sip, and immediately regretted every single one of his life choices. He continued to hold it to keep anyone else from making the mistake of believing Roy’s insistence that it was good. “I’ll be back in a moment, I want to check in with mom.”

That was when his fate had been sealed.

Because he had made good on his words, had stood and walked over to where the five women were sitting and chatting. He had meant to simply check on how long his mother wished to stay. But then Wonder Woman had inquired as to how he was doing.

And maybe it was the heat. Maybe that single sip of beer was affecting him more than he realized. Maybe it was the volleyball deathmatch going on. Maybe it was the shock of seeing Leaguers’ in civilian clothes.

But something had possessed him to forget just who he was talking to.

And he’d said - Great Neptune. “Fine, moms.”

For the briefest of seconds, the words don’t register. And then his brain catches up with his ears, and he knows he’s facing his certain doom.

He opens his mouth to apologize. To say that he meant no disrespect. Nothing, not even a croak, comes out. And his time is running out, because he can see Wonder Woman’s eyes widening. Movement draws his gaze, and he can see his mother covering her mouth. Black Canary leaning back in her chair, expression giving nothing away.

It’s silent except for the shouts from the super death volleyball game. Sadly, no errant beach ball came hurtling out of the sky to annihilate him. Nor does the beach open up and swallow him. Nothing as merciful as that. It’s Paula Crock, formerly Huntress, that breaks the silence.

“Have you been eating your vegetables?”

The hand falls from his mother’s face, and to his growing horror he sees that she’s smiling. “We’ll have to talk about custody arrangements, I see,” she says.

It’s then that he realizes that his death will not be swift and just. No, it will be long and drawn out.

They’re going to tease him.

“Can I be a maiden aunt instead?” Hawkwoman asks. She’s grinning too.

“You’re married.” Black Canary points out.

“And that disqualifies me how?”

Any time now would be a great moment for a supervillain to attack. Or for Mount Justice to spontaneously implode.

He doesn’t get that luxury.

Somehow he makes his voice work, manages to croak out something about the volleyball game getting too intense, and makes his escape. Later, when he’s managed to escape back to Atlantis and his rooms with Garth and Tula, he tells them the tale.

“I’m never going to live it down.” He moans. “Don’t laugh.”

“I think it’s glorious,” Tula retorts between gulps of laughter. “Come on, you think that’s the worst thing anyone has ever said to them?”

“They’re my bosses. Except for Artemis’s mother.”

Garth swims down to sit on his lap and swings an arm around his waist. “I can think of better things to do than obsess over that,” he drawls, extending his free arm and wiggling his fingers at Tula.

“You’re just trying to change the subject.”

“Mhm.” Garth smiles and presses a kiss to Kaldur’s cheek.

“I haven’t forgiven you two for telling them when my birthday is.”

“Is that such a bad thing, to know they care enough to celebrate you?” Tula laces her fingers into Garth’s and curls up against them both.

“No, it’s just…” He flounders for the words. When he doesn’t continue, Tula simply kisses his forehand. “Thank you. Truly. Both of you. I enjoyed it, even with mortifying myself.”

“Good.”

[the-pav-archive]

Magicae Aqua- Magic User!Male Reader X Merman!Tomura Shigaraki

I know I’m a few weeks late for Mermay, but I wanted to get something done- Anyways, enjoy this little bit! It doesn’t make a ton of sense, but oh well Word Count: 3,043

Tomura Shigaraki hated the humans.

He hated that they took his family away from him. He hated that they so carelessly dumped things into his waters. He hated that they took all of his things.

And he hated that they were so easy to fall for.

Every few decades, a human would pique his interest. They’d have that spark that drew him in like crustaceans to an angler fishes lure. He’d invest his whole heart in them, and then they’d vanish just like that- Off with some other human, or too involved in themselves to even pay him any mind.

So he decided that he’d refuse to love them any more.

If he found a human that he had taken a liking to, he’d kill them.

And with tentacles as dangerous as he had, it was easy. He’d just have to pull them into the water, wrap one around their neck, and let his toxins do the rest. They’d be gone within a minute- Left to the scavengers and other creatures of the sea. He could take his time to admire the body if he really wanted to. Building the reputation of a killer amongst those in your environment helped sometimes.

It was a particularly bright night when he spotted his next target through the murky waters. They left a stream of bubbles behind them as they sunk into the water, swimming downwards too fast for him to take note of what they looked like for the moment. His tentacles undulated as he silently approached the figure, just barely floating above a rock as he observed them.

His clothing floated around him a bit, occasionally exposing smooth (S/C) skin as he rooted around in the water a bit. (E/C) eyes held a look of focus in them as he worked, and an excited gleam filled them when he seemed to have found what he was looking for. His legs kicked as he went a little bit deeper in the water, and he reached one hand up briefly to sweep his (H/C) hair back. Trails of bubbles left his lips, and he briefly looked around for a moment, eyes widening to an almost dramatic point when he noticed the jellyfish that was watching him. Almost immediately he ‘dropped’ what was in his other hand- several smooth, round rocks- taking just a brief moment to just observe before he did some kind of intricate hand movement, glowing lines crossing and swirling around his body as his lips moved. And just seconds later, he shot straight up through the water.

And thus began the game of pursuit. Tomura’s eyes lit up with an almost cruel light as he shot upwards as well, laughs leaving his lips and creating a tiny stream of bubbles.

The chase was always the fun part. Watching the fear in his target’s eyes as they try to get away, the horror in their expression when those tentacles wrap around their neck…..

It was glorious.

The surface was fast approaching, waves crashing up above and creating a spectacle of dark and light above. Tomura was within an arm’s reach of the man he was pursuing, and his grin grew even wider as he surged forwards, wrapping his hand around the man’s ankle and pulling tightly. The glowing lines surrounding the man abruptly disappeared, and he looked down, eyes widening. A stream of bubbles escaped his lips in a scream, and he spoke, voice able to be heard as clear as day. “Get the hell off of me!” His foot kicked, and he pushed upwards with his arms, fighting to get lose. The merman was taken aback by this a bit, and his grip loosened just enough for the man to be able to escape. And within seconds he was gone and out of the water. A low growl of sorts seemed to rumble in the back of Tomura’s throat, and he approached the surface, looking upwards.

The man that had escaped his grasp looked down at him from a rock ledge that hung over the water, panting heavily as he watched the merman in the water. He even backed up a bit, back resting against the rock face as he steadied himself a bit.

“Who are you to think that you can come into my waters and take whatever you want?” Tomura asked, eyes narrowing as that raspy voice left his lips. It had been a while since he had spoken above the surface of the water, and he realized another reason why he hated the humans so much- They had to breath this toxic air to even talk.

“And who are you to think that you own the entire ocean?” The man replied, frown gracing his lips as he gripped the rock ledge. “The waters are a place for everyone, sir.” There was a bit of a sarcastic bite in his voice as he continued to speak, reaching one hand up to run through his hair.

Tomura seemed taken aback by this response as well, and that growl rumbled in his throat once again. “I’ll tear your throat out if you step into these waters again.”

“Well, then you’d be killing one of the only things keeping you and your environment in the state it is right now.” The man sneered in reply. “So if you want the other humans to kill you and your domain off, then go right ahead, Jelly boy.”

Deep red eyes narrowing again, Tomura’s expression was still rather suspicious. He brought one hand up to scratch slightly at the skin on his neck, feeling that it had already begun to dry out a bit. “Don’t call me Jelly boy. I have a proper name.”

“And what is that? Jelly man? Water bitch?” The man replied snarkily, slight smirk gracing his lips. A look of smug amusement graced his features, one brow quirking upwards slightly.

“Tomura Shigaraki.” He stated bluntly, diving under the water for a brief moment before resurfacing. “I expect you to share your name as well. It’s only fair, since you’ve wasted part of my night.” “Your night? Most of my night’s now ruined because you had to fuckin’ chase me!” The man practically shouted, his own anger showing easily. He took in a deep breath, though, speaking again a moment later. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Well then, (Y/N). Prove that you weren’t just taking my things.” Tomura said bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Prove that you’re actually protecting my waters instead of just intruding.”

“They’re not just your waters……” (Y/N) muttered under his breath, brows furrowing in thought for a moment. When he finally decided on what he’d do he held up his hands, fingers curling as he began to mutter something. “Expugnando aquas maris creaturam tuam da mihi aequare!”

At first, nothing happened. But then those glowing marks ran up (Y/N)’s arms, and the water around Tomura shook a bit more violently. He was then lifted into the air, water surrounding his lower half as he was seemingly lifted to the same level as (Y/N). With an unamused expression on his face, Tomura’s head tilted to the side slightly. “And what does this prove?” “God, do I have to do something bigger to prove it to you?” (Y/N) grumbled, annoyed tone in his voice. He lowered Tomura back into the water, pressing his hands together in front of him as he squatted slightly. Those glowing marks crept up his arms again, and the (E/C) spoke again, voice holding a powerful tone in it this time. “Persona ostende te, abscondere. Pulchra tibi custodiam alterius diei!”

This time, the water began to shake more violently, turning darker. It also clouded up a bit, and what appeared to be old trash floated on the surface of part of the water. “This is how I make the water look to the people that come here. It looks undesirable. But if you go under, it looks just as it did before.” (Y/N) paused briefly, giving an almost expectant look to Tomura. “Go on. Look.”

Almost glad for the opportunity to dive back under the water, Tomura did as he was directed to do, diving under the surface of the water. The moonlight pierced through it, and he could see everything just as clearly as he had before. When he resurfaced, he looked up to (Y/N), brows furrowing slightly. “Alright. So, you can do magic to mask things. Why did you need those rocks that you were going to get before?”

“I require items from the ocean to do my work for it.” (Y/N) started, scooting to the edge of the rock ledge he was on and dangling his legs over the side. “Every so often, I go out and gather the supplies that I need. I do it at night, mostly, because people would know I did magic if they saw. And nowadays, most folks don’t take kindly to it.” He paused briefly, letting out a sigh. “I heard that there was a burning a few weeks ago just a few towns over. It’s like the Witch Trials all over again…..”

“Witch Trials?” Tomura asked, head cocking to the side in a confused manner.

“The Salem Witch Trials. Long ago, people would put people through terrible trials because someone accused them of doing magic. They’d be burnt at the stake, a lot of the time.” (Y/N) said, tracing his fingers through a little puddle of water on the rock ledge. He went silent for a short while, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks filling the void for a moment before he spoke again. “Anyways, I should return back to my home. The sun will be rising in a couple of hours, and I walked a long distance.” Standing up on the ledge, he turned to the cliff wall, grabbing onto a couple of small pieces of rock and preparing to hoist himself up as he looked back at Tomura. “I will return tomorrow night to get my supplies.” He paused briefly, beginning his climb upwards. “Goodbye, Tomura.” Tomura simply sat there as he watched the man climb up, sinking underneath the water moments later. He’d be there the next night, too- to watch the man and ask some questions.

Almost too soon, the next night came.

Tomura awaited the stream of bubbles that would signal (Y/N)’s arrival, eyes watching the calmly rolling waves above him.

Within a little while more of waiting, that stream of bubbles showed up, (Y/N)’s form entering the water. He seemed to look around for a moment, gaze catching Tomura’s. He visibly tensed for a moment before relaxing a bit, swimming to the same spot he had been searching the night before. Those glowing marks on his arms seemed to pulse, glow coming from them changing from bright to dark as he began to work on picking up the smooth, round stones.

The merman approached (Y/N) again, head tilting to the side curiously as he spoke. “What do you use those particular stones for?” “I enchant them and place them in the water near the shoreline of all of the beaches in town. When someone walks past them, it makes it harder for them to go further out in the water.” (Y/N) stated, putting several of the smooth stones into a container he had brought with him.

“Ah, so they’re a water barrier.” Tomura said, lips remaining in a slightly parted ‘o’ shape.

“Mhm.” (Y/N) muttered, nodding slightly. “They’re very useful. I have another variation of the same spell around my home.”

“Well, wouldn’t it make it harder for you to get into your home?” The merman asks, brows furrowing.

“No, it doesn’t.” (Y/N) answered simply, turning his head to look at Tomura. “As the spellcaster, it makes it easier for me to get into my home, actually.”

“I see.” Tomura states bluntly, backing up a bit so that his tentacles didn’t drift and hit (Y/N) while he was getting his stones. “How many more do you need?” “For the beach on the far side of town, I’ve got to get at least 12 more.”

“And right now you have….?” “7.” (Y/N) states bluntly, looking over to the merman briefly. He looks back down, moving a larger rock out of the way and grinning a bit when he found more of the small, round stones. “And there’s the rest of them!” Almost eagerly he picked them up, putting them in his container and sealing it shut. Turning to Tomura, he gave him a slight little smile. “That’s all I need for now. I’ll probably come back in a couple of days to get some more stuff.” He then gave an awkward little laugh, looking upwards. “Thanks for not trying to kill me this time.”

Tomura nodded slightly, brows furrowing a little as he spoke. “You’re welcome?”

(Y/N) simply let out a little giggle, looking back upwards. His fingers curled, and he began to perform the same spell of sorts that he had the night before, rocketing up and out of the water in a flash.

And so this process repeated for quite a while.

Every few nights or so, (Y/N) would return to gather materials and talk to Tomura.

And despite the fact that Tomura said that he wouldn’t fall for a human ever again…..

He did.

He had fallen hard.

Tomura waited patiently in the water at the base of that little rocky cliff, watching the moon as it rose overhead. And almost like clockwork, he saw (Y/N) appear at the top of the cliff. But instead of diving into the water like he usually did, he began to make his way down the cliff face, moving to sit cross-legged on one of the wider outcroppings of rock.

“Hey, Tomura.” (Y/N) called, a look of deep thought gracing his features.

The merman swam a little bit closer so that neither of them were totally shouting at each other, and his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong, (Y/N)?”

“I think they’ve caught on to me.” (Y/N) said, a frown gracing his lips. “Everyone in town has been giving me weird looks recently. And I think someone caught me placing some of the barrier rocks in the water the other day.” His fingers ran backwards through his hair, and he let out a sigh. “I’m going to have to do something. If I hide it all…..” “You could just curse them.” Tomura stated bluntly, moving to rest his elbow on a rock. He then rested his chin on his palm, head tilting to the side slightly. “I know you’re powerful enough to do it.” “But then that would give them even more reason to burn me.”

“Or you could come and live in the water.”

“The spell would wear off after a while.” (Y/N) stated, sighing again. Just as he was about to speak again he paused, tapping his finger on his chin. “I could try…. No, that would be way too risky…..” “Try what?” Tomura asked, eyes widening slightly as he looked up at (Y/N). “I could try a transformation spell. Turn myself into someone like you.” He said, gesturing to Tomura’s lower half. “But it’s too high risk of a spell. So many people have died trying to cast it before…..” Flopping onto his back, (Y/N) looked up at the night sky with a frown. “Well, casting it and trying would be better than just letting yourself die, right?” Tomura asked, seemingly straightening his posture a bit. “True….” (Y/N) stated, going silent a few moments later. After a short while of just listening to the waves crashing against the rocks, he sat up, looking down to Tomura. “It’ll be scary as all hell to try, but I’ll give it a shot. Being burnt alive doesn’t sound all too pleasant to me.” Upon hearing those words leaving his companion’s lips, Tomura’s eyes lit up. He’d finally have someone to talk to if it worked! His heart could’ve beat out of his chest in that moment- Had it not been for the fear that set in a moment later. What if the transformation didn’t work? What if the people got to (Y/N) before he could complete the transformation? Before he could let those thoughts run rampant, he took in a deep breath, looking back up to (Y/N). “Well, if you need anything in particular, let me know. I can find it for you.”

“I most certainly will.” (Y/N) stated, leaning over the edge of the rock ledge and looking down at Tomura. He took in a deep breath of his own, lips pursing in a straight line. “I better get going, then. I’ve got to prepare everything.”

“I wish you luck.” Tomura stated, giving a curt nod to (Y/N).

The thing that woke Tomura up wasn’t the light of the moon rising overhead. Nor was it some unsuspecting creature that had swam into his tentacles and woke him up with its thrashing. It was the sound of police sirens and shouting.

The merman shot up from where he had been laying on the ocean’s floor, and within seconds, his head breached the surface of the water.

Up on the top of the cliff, he could see the ever familiar form of (Y/N), and he watched as he flipped backwards into the water. Once in, a bright light flashed- And when (Y/N) resurfaced, he looked very different. On his back was a dorsal fin, and his teeth were like daggers in his mouth. And when he leapt above the surface of the water for a moment, a powerful tail was revealed.

He couldn’t help but grin brightly as he dove under the water, and he held his arms open wide as (Y/N) came swimming at him. He captured the other man in his embrace, bright grin on his lips. “Let’s get going, (Y/N).” He was so glad that he finally had him in his embrace.

And if anyone- or anything- got in the way of that?

He’d be killing again.