#and when you go hiking and there's not a single human-made sound to be heard

[killerchickadee]

The thing about it being my Midwestaversary is like.... sometimes I wonder if I really was that unhappy in Colorado?

Yes. The answer is absolutely yes, and I hated it almost from the very first day. Like I look at Facebook memory posts and even within the first few months I was like, "I hate it here, why the fuck did I move here?" And I stayed there EIGHT YEARS. I've lived in 6 different states and even though I have lots of mental health issues so I'm never really happy, and I have mixed feelings about a lot of the places I've lived in, I've never been as miserable as I was in Colorado. And even though I knew it was bad I didn't realize exactly how traumatic it was until I left. I've been back twice and both times ended up crying because I didn't want to be there. That's.... probably not normal lol.

So like, is my life going well? Not at all lol. Would I say I'm happy? Probably not, because my work situation is shit and I'm a little lonely here (and also the aforementioned mental health shit). But I'm a million times happier where I am now than I was there. I fucking love the midwest so much. Special shoutout to @thebrideofcaliban and her husband for getting me the fuck out here.

[five-and-dimes]

Sunflower

This is a continuation of Mountain Sound and will make fare more sense if you read that first.

For Dreamling Week Day 3: Painting

Read on AO3

Dream takes his time planning his gift for Hob. As outcasts amongst werewolves and vampires alike, all they had was each other. Almost every day was spent side by side, and they wouldn’t have it any other way. However, it made surprises difficult.

But this is something Dream has wanted to do for Hob for so long, and their transition deeper into the mountains provides the perfect opportunity to hide things in the shuffle. Despite the unfortunate circumstances of their move, there is something fun about it as well. A break in the routine they had fallen into for the past decade or so. They spend a few weeks hiking and exploring, searching for a spot that would suit them. Traversing caverns and rocky outposts and hollow trees. It had been Hob’s idea to combine multiple spots.

“Why limit ourselves to a single building?” he had explained excitedly, gesturing at the forest around them, “We can have it all! Build a shelter among the trees and use the caves for the colder months, build a treehouse, maybe dig a burrow for storage!” On and on he’d spoken, everywhere he turned he saw a place they could make a home, a place they could take up space for the life they wanted. Dream simply listened fondly, and vowed to give Hob everything he could possibly want. 

With the decision made, they began gathering supplies, which gave Dream a chance to sneak away the things he needed for his gift. Hob would not find it unusual for Dream to purchase paints from the nearest town, being the avid painter that he was, but the sheer amount he needed would be suspicious. So he buys the colors he will need in multiple trips, hiding them amongst the tools and linens and lanterns that they needed. He takes advantage of Hob’s own idea and shifts into a wolf to dig a deep burrow in the forest, stashing the piles of paint where Hob would not find them. 

It takes nearly a year for them to fully settle once more. They finally bid their previous home farewell and move deeper into the mountains to hide from the world as best they can. They had built a new house beside a rocky outpost, nestled between tree and stone. A nearby cave is filled with various supplies, a place to keep cool in the height of summer and keep warm in the depths of winter. Hob even keeps his word and builds a small treehouse. There are no windows, keeping the sunlight out for Hob’s safety, but the walls are thin enough that in the daytime the sounds of songbirds can be heard easily.

Ironically, they spend the first night after completing their move outside. Dream and Hob run through the landscape that is their new home, Dream even shifting to tackle Hob to the ground, too lost in their shared joy to feel insecure about his wolf form. Leaves kicked up around them as they wrestled playfully, laughter and happy yips echoing through the night. They only return to settle in to sleep inside the house when the sky begins to lighten. In the doorway, Hob looks over his shoulder, a sad smile on his face that Dream is familiar with as he takes one last moment to watch the sky brighten with the light of a sun he can no longer see.

On the very first night they meant, he had told Dream that it was the only thing he hated about being a vampire. That he could never again stand in the sun.

Now, years later, Dream has a plan.

About a month after the move, Hob expressed wanting to go into town. One of the drawbacks to their new location was being farther from the nearest human encampment, but it was unfortunately necessary to increase their safety. 

“I didn’t realize how beat up our tools got from all the building,” he sighed, nearly pouting, “I mean, they’re still fine for fixing things around the house I guess, but I was hoping to do some decorating.” One of Hob’s favorite hobbies was woodcarving, engraving intricate patterns into their door frames and bedposts, or making small figurines to adorn their shelves. Dream could see how the dents and chips in his tools would make it more difficult to carve the details he was so fond of. 

“Plus, I wouldn’t mind snooping a bit more to see if I can’t find some new books on protection spells,” he added. Their new dwellings had a few protection charms, but it was difficult to find enchantments that would keep out other werewolves and vampires without harming the werewolf and vampire that lived there. “Would you like to come with me?” he asked.

“Hmm,” Dream moved nonchalantly, winding his arms around Hob’s neck as he admitted, “I would not mind some time to myself. If. That would not offend you.”

“Never,” Hob responded immediately, with a genuine smile, “I know you. And I love you.”

“Forgive me if that still startles me,” Dream tries to sound joking, but the honesty bleeds through.

Hob doesn’t mind. “Nothing to forgive,” he promises, giving him a light kiss on the lips. “Might be about a week, with the new travel time. That alright?”

Perfect. That would give him plenty of time. 

“Of course,” he responds lightly, concealing his excitement.

The next evening, after a kiss goodbye, Hob speeds off down the mountain and, as soon as his figure disappears from sight, Dream heads inside to get to work. He has time, but that doesn’t mean he can dally. 

He starts by moving the furniture out of their bedroom. There’s not too much in there to begin with, so the process doesn’t take long. The wardrobe and chest they use for storage are moved into a side room that had been ambiguously assigned the title of ‘study’, which was used more as a catchall for their various hobbies and interests they had accumulated over the years. Once the room is empty, Dream gets started laying plaster over the nooks and crannies of the wood paneled walls, running a wide blade over it meticulously until the walls are smooth and even. 

It takes a day for the plaster to dry, and Dream spends that time fetching his paints and mixing them carefully. He sits cross-legged in the middle of the room, occasionally stepping outside to hold his brush up to the sky, comparing the colors and adjusting until they are as perfect as he can make them. 

By the third day he is already nervous. Logically he knows he has plenty of time, but what if Hob comes home early? What if it takes too long to dry? What if the colors look wrong once they are dry and he has to start over? He forgoes sleep and food in favor of painting, coating the walls as quickly as he can without sacrificing the smoothness of the gradient. 

The fifth day, he has moved on to a smaller brush, the background dry enough for him to add details on top of it, shadows and highlights, feathery strokes of white, perfect circles glowing against the waves of color. Dream stands on two chests stacked on top of each other to carefully put the finishing touches on the ceiling.

On the sixth day, it is done. Everything should be dry by tomorrow, when Hob is due to return, and he’s set up the room exactly as he wants. With nothing left to do, Dream shifts, curls up in the very center of the room with his nose tucked under his tail, and worries some more.

What if Hob didn’t like it? What if it upset him? What if he was mad that Dream transformed a whole room in their new home without consulting him? What if he laughed at Dream for being so stupid, for thinking this could possibly be enough in return for all that Hob has given him?

They do not have an anniversary, per say. Even when they have kept calendars, neither felt the need to try to trace back exactly when they met, or exactly when they got together. But every year, when the leaves are just starting to turn like they had on the day they collided together, Hob will pluck a vibrant leaf from the ground and smile.

“Ah,” he will say, a warm smile on his face, “Another year together.” And then he will kiss Dream gently and hold his hand, and Dream will be reminded just how lucky he is. 

He doesn’t know how he could ever express all the love he feels for Hob. The gratitude and the joy and the peace he’s found with him. But he wants to try. He hopes Hob will see that he is trying.

When Dream hears Hob approaching in the distance late the next night he has to immediately return to his human form, because Hob is incessant in his teasing whenever he sees Dream’s tail wag without his permission. Regardless, he can tell by Hob’s face that Dream’s joy at his return is obvious. Despite both of them having spent so much time alone- despite Dream still needing occasional solitude- neither could bear to be apart for long. So while a week may not be long to some, they still run to each other as soon as they are in sight. Their bodies collide, and they take a long moment to simply embrace before they manage to pull back enough to kiss. 

“Welcome home, beloved,” Dream whispered against Hob’s lips.

“Good to be back,” Hob grinned. Once they disentangle themselves, Hob picks up the bags he had dropped in his enthusiasm, “Got a good haul this time. Better tools for repairs, and also splurged on some specialty tools for myself,” he grinned apologetically, but Dream only smiled.

“I think you deserve high quality materials for your craft,” he insisted. Privately, he also felt it only fair considering the amount of paints Dream himself had ‘splurged’ on.

Hob gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I’ll be sure to make you something nice.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, as though he knew a secret Dream didn’t. But before Dream could question him, he continued, “I also found a couple of interesting tomes. Not sure if they’ll be any use to us, but I figured it was still worth going through together. You always had a better grasp of all that magic nonsense.” 

“Hm, we’ll see what we can find,” Dream agreed, reaching out to take one of Hob’s bags as they made their way inside. As they deposit Hob’s things in the common area, Dream inhales deeply, filled with anxiety. He opens his mouth, but pauses. Should he wait? Should he let Hob unwind first before springing this on him? Was it too sudden? He had spent so much time worrying about it not being enough, but maybe it was too much and Hob would be annoyed, especially after his long journey-

“Hey.” 

Dream nearly jumped, Hob’s voice breaking through his thoughts. Hob smiled gently, “You alright, love? You seem tense.”

Swallowing, Dream steeled himself before blurting out, “I have a gift for you.”

Hob blinked in surprise before breaking into a grin, “A gift? Really?” He had a look of excitement on his face like a child, even as he stated, “You didn’t have to get me anything!”

“I know,” Dream smiled, “I wanted to.” Reaching out, he laced their fingers together, pulling Hob towards the bedroom. Outside the door, Dream released his hand, nudging his back to push him forward. Hob raised an eyebrow, but then turned to open the door.

The first wall Hob sees when he walks in nearly makes him flinch. The painted sky in front of him is so detailed and meticulous, he had felt as though he had somehow stepped outside into a sun he sometimes fears he has forgotten. The entire wall is a deep blue, a few wispy clouds breaking up the wall of color, but doing nothing to obscure the bright, pale sun in the center.. 

For a long, long moment, all Hob can do is stare. When he finally begins to turn to look at Dream, his breath hitches as he sees the next wall to his left. This one is more vibrant and colorful, the blue of the previous wall bleeding over before darkening. The sun on this wall is lower, mid morning or early evening perhaps. 

He knows he is crying, but he doesn’t care, whipping around to see the wall behind him. This one also starts with the blue of the afternoon wall, but the gradient is more dramatic. Blue to purple to vibrant reds and oranges, clouds catching every color along their edges. The sun is a darker yellow, a half circle at the base of the floorboards. Sunset. Or, he supposes, sunrise. 

When he finally turns to look back at Dream, he sees blues and reds and purples connecting the walls, the sun painted on the back of the door, not a complete circle, but higher than the previous. Hob feels like a child as he finds himself spinning in place, seeing the way all four walls are connected, a perfect gradient of daytimes. He’s still crying, but he’s so happy, and it is in a moment of glee that he tips his head back and sees one more sun.

Directly above him, pale blue and a sun nearly white with its brightness, only the faintest yellow glow around it. An iron ring holding a circle of candles has been painted white and hangs from the ceiling in the center of the sun, illuminating it even more. High noon on a summer day.

Hob is surrounded by all the daytimes he has missed for so long. 

He allows himself a moment to glance at the rest of the room. There is a pile of pillows and furs in the center, and a tray on the floor with a vase of flowers, a bottle of wine, and two glasses. There are a few lanterns carefully placed around the room to keep it lit as brightly as possible, but the rest of the room is empty, no furniture to obscure the paintings of the sky. By the time he finally turns to face Dream again, he feels like he might combust from love and happiness.

Which makes it all the more ridiculous that Dream looks nervous, wringing his hands in front of him and chewing on his lip.

“I know you miss the sunshine,” he says softly, “and… and I know this isn’t the same, I know it doesn’t truly make up for it, but, but I thought, maybe-”

Dream’s supernatural strength is the only thing that keeps them standing when Hob crashes into him, hands framing his face to kiss him fiercely. Dream wraps his arms around his shoulder, smiling shyly into the kiss, and Hob only pulls away because of the laughter bubbling in his chest. He giggles, so overwhelmed with joy.

“No sun could compare to the light you bring to my life,” he whispers against Dream’s lips, “But I will admit, this room is a close second.”

“You like it, then?” Dream asks, his smiling widening ever so slightly.

Hob laughs again, because what sort of question is that? He loves this ridiculous man so very much, “I love it nearly as much as I love you.”

Dream melts against him, all nervousness gone, “I would bring you the real sun if I could.”

“I don’t need it,” Hob rests their foreheads together and tightens his embrace, “I have everything I need right here.” Pulling back almost reluctantly, Hob looked at Dream so softly, “Dearheart-”

Dream is so full of love he is nearly nauseous with it, like his body can’t contain it and all he can do is interrupt with a breathless exhale, “Marry me.”

Hob’s jaw drops, his eyes widening, and Dream rushes to say more, “I know it doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, wouldn’t really change anything, but I love you so much, I… I want to call you husband.”

There is a long pause, and Dream is almost ready to take it all back, but then Hob is laughing, and peppering his face with kisses, “You absolute twat,” he laughs, voice full of affection, “If you had just given me two seconds-” 

Stepping back, Hob took a moment to rifle through his pockets. Then he is taking one of Dream’s hands and bending down onto one knee. 

“I had a whole speech planned,” he says, trying to pout but smiling too wide for it to be effective. In his other hand, he is holding a beautiful wooden ring. The soft reddish-brown of rosewood, smoothed and polished, with a small chip of sapphire embedded in it, “I even went through the trouble of making this myself because every jeweler kept trying to talk me into silver.” 

Dream barked out a watery laugh, and that was when he realized he was crying. Hob giggled with him, leaning to place a kiss on his knuckles, “So. I know you asked first, technically,” he said with fond annoyance, “But I’ll say yes to your proposal if you say yes to mine,” he squeezed his hand, holding the ring a little higher, “Deal?”

There is too much love in his body, he fears he might burst with it, and so Dream thinks Hob will forgive him for the way he tackles him, toppling them both to the ground as he wraps his arms around him and kisses him deeply. “Yes,” he whispers against his lips, “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Yes,” Hob replies in return, kissing him back. Eventually they pull apart long enough for Hob to slip the ring on Dream’s finger, a perfect fit. Dream stares down at it in wonder. 

“Definitely better than silver,” he teases, Hob smacking at him playfully. “I suppose in fairness I will not insist on being married in a church.”

“You are a menace,” Hob rolls over to pin Dream beneath his body.

“Till death do us part,” Dream smiles.

Hob leans down to kiss him again, “Not if I can help it.”

[kamisatomay018]

My devotion and my love is all for you, Rex Lapis

A Zhongli version of the legend of the Red String of fate cuz why not! Very fluff with lots of love!

Zhongli x female reader

Please note that for this fanfic, your powers will be like Ningguang so there won’t be any confusion as you read ahead, and the artwork is not mine. Enjoy!

The chirping of birds, the sweet scent of your favourite Qingxin flowers, distant chatter of the people of liyue along with the sounds of carts moving through the lanes was what you could observe as you sat atop the mountain near the Lisha region. You were seated besides the Statue of the Seven, which was of your beloved Archon, Rex Lapis. While liyue kept moving ahead, you were forever stuck in time, perhaps right beside the statue of your Archon. For reasons that you yourself could not explain, you always felt a connection to Rex Lapis, an undeniable sense of devotion, admiration and love was filled in your heart for the God of Contracts. Perhaps it was because you were a citizen of Liyue, or perhaps because you were half adepti, or maybe because you held a vision of his element, a very minute part of his own powers that he had felt you were worthy of.

Due to the presence of adepti blood in your being, your life was way longer than an average human’s. You were almost a hundred years old now, yet you looked as young as a woman in her mid 20s, beautiful and graceful, with golden eyes and brown hair just like your Archon. You were a very famous painter, your paintings were demanded all across teyvat, though you made sure your identity was kept hidden. You liked to live in seclusion, away from mortals, especially the people of Liyue whom you had started to now despise deep down. Why? Because in your eyes, they were nothing but ungrateful. Months had passed since the news of Rex Lapis’ death was announced, and yet you saw not a single sign of remorse on the faces of these people. When Rex Lapis had died, people did not mourn truly, for merchants were worried about their businesses, the predictions of trade, the formation of mora. All they cared about was their own selfish desires, and not the fact that the great Archon who had built this city, protected it for over 6000 years had passed away. Only a single Right of Parting and everyone forgot him?

But you certainly did not. The day you heard that Rex Lapis was gone, you had felt your heart shatter into a million pieces, and you had cried bitterly for days, leaving the city and hiding away in the mountains. It took a week for Madam Ping to find you, and she was full of pity at your state. You seemed inconsolable, refusing to believe that the strongest Archon had passed away, that too assassinated. That was the day you decided to stop living in Liyue Harbour, and madam ping respected your wishes, gifting you a teapot made out of adeptal magic. You were so grateful for her, after all she was the one who had raised you after your father abandoned you when you were just a small child. Since then, you had refused to go to liyue harbour except for the days you visited madam ping and Yanfei, who was like a little sister to you. You spent most of your time in your teapot, painting endlessly for hours, and when you would come out, you would sit right here, besides the statue of the seven.

People barely hiked up this mountain, which gave you the peace and tranquility of spending time with the Archon. And no, although it may seem like it, you weren’t obsessed with Rex Lapis, you just felt an overwhelming sense of love and devotion towards him. Deep down in your heart, something in you told you that he was still alive, and you prayed that wherever he was today, he was at peace. He deserved it after all. And just like every other day, you now sat with your back against the statue, using your elemental powers to summon some glittering rocks, which floated above your palms. You loved your vision dearly, it was the best gift you had ever received. You were a strong fighter, not even needing any weapon for you could conjure rocks according to your wish.

You felt truly at peace when you sat near the statue of the seven, and you would occasionally rant about all your worries and feelings, as if Rex Lapis was there, listening to you. Maybe, maybe not, but what mattered to you was that you felt calm after doing so, getting some sort of reassurance that everything would one day be alright. You had never seen Rex Lapis, and despite how devoted you were, you never attended the Rite of Descention, because you absolutely hated being among greedy merchants and rich businessmen who did not care for their Archon but only for his divine predictions. Sitting alone in the peaceful silence, you unknowingly fell asleep, completely unaware of how much your life was going to change when you would wake up.

“Rise!”

You frowned, waking up to hear the sound of someone fighting. you opened your eyes, spotting a tall man with long hair fighting against two Stonehide lawachurls. You gasped, immediately standing up wishing to help him out, but were stopped by a geo barrier all around you. Even more perplexing was the fact that he immediately defeated the monsters, seeming unfazed and simply dusting off his elegant suit. Who was this man? Sensing that you were awake, he turned around to face you, and that’s when your entire world stopped. As both your eyes interlocked, gold meeting gold, a beautiful Red String of Fate revealed itself, tied around your pinky finger and his. He was your soulmate, your partner for life. The geo barrier around you faded away, as the unknown man walked towards you, seeming rather calm and unfazed by this revelation, as if he already knew.

“Are you alright?” The words seemed to slip past your lips without your consent, making the man in front of you chuckle softly. Oh gosh, his smile was so pretty. “Indeed I am, you needn’t worry about me. I am glad I reached here on time, otherwise the situation would’ve been worse.” His words were so gentle, his voice as deep as an ocean that you could listen to him talk endlessly for hours. “Who are you..?” He smiles once more, his golden eyes scanning your surroundings as he walks towards the statue, placing his hand on it. You gasped, your eyes widening as you saw his clothes transform into something similar to what the statue wore, his white and black clothing seeming so majestic, his arms now being the shade of the geo element itself. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Rex Lapis himself was standing in front of you, in all his glory and might. You bowed onto the ground in respect “Rex Lapis..” you then felt a gentle hand holding yours, making you stand up and look into his eyes. “You needn’t bow in front of me, you needn’t bow in front of anyone. You are my mate, you are my equal.”

You had so many questions, so many thoughts and so many emotions that you could not process anything. Tears fell from your eyes, as you looked at your soulmate, your Archon standing in front of you. How lucky you were, to be fated as the soulmate of Rex Lapis himself. As he moved away from the statue, his mighty form dissipated, making him turn back to his more human form, with the same suit he wore when you first saw him. He gently wiped your tears away, letting you take your time. He knew all of this was way too overwhelming for you, but he could not keep his identity from you a secret. “I…how…My Lord..please, I cannot understand what’s going on..” Zhongli now chuckled, embracing you protectively, and in an instant you calmed down, just the way you would when you sat beside his statue. You closed your eyes, cherishing his warmth, listening to his heart beating.

“Forgive me for taking so many months- no, years..to find you, many things stood in my path of finding you, a lot of which would’ve caused harm to you. I had to be away to protect you..as for my death, as you can see, it was all a lie. I have always been able to sense your presence, your voice, your thoughts and emotions. But I did not know who you were, and where you could be..It is thanks to my old friend Madam Ping that I was able to finally find you today.”

You listened to him carefully, nodding against his chest, making him chuckle softly at how endearing you seemed right now. He had been searching for you for so long, but he would be stuck at work at the Wangsheng funeral parlour, and then he wouldn’t feel your presence near the statue, nor could he find anyone with your voice in liyue harbour. Whenever you were near his statue, Zhongli would be able to hear your thoughts, your sweet honeyed voice filling the empty void in his heart. For so long, he had been alone and suffering. But now he had found you, his better half, his companion forever. “I know that all of this is very overwhelming for you, and I would be completely fine with giving you all the time and space you may need.” You immediately shook your head, acting on impulse as you hugged him tight. His warmth was too soothing, the eternal bond of the red string between you both making you crave his presence even more. “Please don’t go..”

He smiles at those words, hugging you ever so protectively, one hand on your head while the other wrapped around your waist. “I will never leave you, my beloved.” You smiled so much, still being in such disbelief that Rex Lapis himself was embracing you and calling you his beloved. “In my heart, I always knew you weren’t gone..but..if I may ask..why did you choose to do this?” A very expected question, and a justified one. Zhongli knew he couldn’t reveal the entire reason as to why he gave up his gnosis for he was bound by a contract, but he told you what he could. “One day, I was walking among the streets of Liyue, and I heard a conversation between two men. The first man told the second, “you have done your job, now you can rest” this made me wonder, have I finished my duties as the Rex Lapis? I realised that the people of Liyue no longer needed an archon, and that it was about time that I too, chose to rest.”

You understood the depth of his words, and knew that he deserved this. He had protected liyue for countless millennia, and now he was tired, now he wished for some normalcy in his life. “I understand…and even if the people have forgotten, I will never forget how much you have given to this land, to this city, to its people..I’m so thankful for everything that you’ve done Rex Lapis..” Oh, what a rare gem you are. No one had ever said these words to him, no one had ever been as devoted towards him as you were, no one had loved him as much as you had. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You are a rare gem indeed my beloved..but you need not address me as Rex Lapis, you can call me Zhongli, which is the name I’ve taken since I adopted the life of a mortal. Or if you wish to call me by any names of endearment, I would not be opposed to those either.”

You giggled at that, hugging him so close. You had found your happiness, the answer to all your prayers, the fruit of your endless devotion and the one who owns your heart and your love. Now you had a new reason to look forward to each day, but this time, there would be no need of going to the Statue of the Seven.

[bangtaninborderland]

Risk It All (23) It’s Not Too Late To Heal

Genre: Chishiya X Fem reader, angst, 18+

Warning: mentions of drugging

A/N: there may be smut the next chapter, this was so unexpected I didn’t even know how I wrote this. Finally the slow burn is coming to an end!!

Ch.22|MasterList|Ch.24

You didn’t know what to do with yourself, you checked the house again maintaining some, albeit small, slither of hope that he was there. You went as far as checking outside too, not straying too far, of course, the very real threat of being shot to death wasn’t appealing even now so you did all you could do… you waited.

Maybe it was your exhaustion that gave it away or some suppressed memory from earlier but it became clearer with every passing moment he had drugged you.

Fucking asshole.

You watched the sun fade and set, your mouth had long grown dry and your limbs stiff when you heard the door open. Disregarding the pins and needles in your right foot you shoot up, running as fast as your body could let you to the door.

A wave of relief flooded you momentarily at the sight of him, it was a short wave of relief one replaced with a much more propellant anger.

Even in this world, you were only human, a human being with human responses, and although you weren’t a fan of violence it felt justified.

So you drew your hand back as far as you could and you slapped him, the sound resonating through the house. “You fucking drugged me.”

He grabbed your wrists, his own anger apparent. “You fucking hit me.”

Your body hit the wall with a thud, the door closing now his frame wasn’t in the way. You kicked your leg out catching his shin. “YOU FUCKING DRUGGED ME CHISHIYA.”

“Because you’re too stubborn to listen. You would have ended up hurt if I didn’t.” He justified.

“So you drug me? YOU ABANDON ME HERE? DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING WORRIED I WAS?” You screamed, pushing him hard enough to have him stumbling backwards. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” He scoffs, standing upright to walk after you. “You’re too stubborn to reason with.”

“We are not skipping the fact you drugged me!” He was being unbelievable.

He raised his eyebrows, questioning you. “It was sleeping pills I didn’t give you too much if you slept that long you clearly needed it.”

“You’re such an entitled arrogant piece of shit.” You throw your hands up.

“So we are back to this.” He mumbled unamused, slumping on the couch. “Get it all out.”

“No Chishiya. You don’t understand because you’re a man and you have a privilege. Whether it be in this world or another men have a privilege. What would have happened if someone came in here whilst I was drugged out?” You explained as calmly as you could despite the fire bubbling under your skin.

He pondered it for a moment. “Wouldn’t have happened.”

“What are you a fucking fortune teller?” You laughed ironically, genuinely shocked by his response. “Grow the fuck up and face the real world.”

“Shut up for one fucking second!” He rolled his eyes. His tone catches you off guard. “You know what fine maybe I did some that that was less than decent but I did it with the right intentions and if you can’t see that then it’s on you. I won’t explain every single action to you, I’m not always fucking right I got thrown into this world too so stop acting like a fucking victim all the time and realise I’m doing the best with what I fucking have.”

You were both speechless and ready to debate every comment he made. “Is that it?”

“No.” He shuffles uncomfortably. “Sorry for drugging you.”

You brushed off his apology, not sure where his “sorry” had come from. “Where did you go?”

“Where I said, I hiked up, and found the clubs game.” He shrugged, as though the information wasn’t interesting. “Another blimp but no card on them.”

“You think they are waiting for the spades and clubs to end before they start any others?” It would make sense, especially if the games were bigger.

“Possibly.” A moment of silence before he continued. How do you feel?”

“You drugged me how do you think I feel.” You scoffed, he was not serious. “I trusted you.”

“You aren’t hurt.” He spoke it as a face, not a question. “Thanks to me.”

“I could have been hurt, thanks to you.” You retorted.

“You could have been but you weren’t, you definitely would have been if I had let you come with me.”

You feel the walls around your heart breaking, a wave of defeat encasing you. You sniffled, composing yourself before beginning. It was now or never, you couldn’t keep doing this anymore. “Don’t pretend like you care, every time you say you do, you kiss me and make me feel things that I know I shouldn’t. You bring me this hope Chishiya, hope I didn’t expect to find in this world and I keep on waiting and waiting for you to finally drop the whole “I can’t love you here” stance but either way I’ll die. I won’t live forever, the promise of death won’t disappear once we are back in the normal world and that’s if it still exists. You think love makes you weak but love gives you a reason to fight, I keep fighting for you, I keep putting myself in these positions to be hurt because I think I love you.”

“You…” he trailed off, the silence making bile rise in your throat.

Your lips tugged upwards at the corners.“I think I love you.”

“Why.”

“Because you’re an asshole but you still take care of me, despite how much you say you don’t care and don’t want me you are there every time something goes wrong, you listen when I talk even though you don’t say much you hear me. I know underneath all that stubbornness you have a heart and I know you’re capable of love.”

“I don’t love you.” He breathes, his words slicing your heart into two. You press your lips together, refusing to cry. “I like you though.”

You whipped your head up to him, staring in disbelief as he continued. “I don’t really know what love is but I don’t want you to get hurt and it’s nice having you here, I hated you at first because you were annoying and pitiful but then I spent time around you and realised I may have misjudged you.”

“That doesn’t sound too…are you sure you like me?” You scratched your head, not entirely endeared by his confession.

“Wait, that sounded bad let me try again.” He laughed, a sound you weren’t familiar with. “I thought you were the same as everyone else, you weren’t. You weren’t willing to sacrifice everyone else to survive, you tried to help as many people as possible. You reminded me of the reason I wanted to become a doctor, to help those who couldn’t help themselves. Regardless of how badly I treated you, I apologise by the way, you didn’t walk away and you didn’t want me to get hurt.”

“Oh.” Your face flushed red. “I didn’t like you when I helped you at first, I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I know. I'm sorry for leaving you here alone.”

“What does this mean Chish? I can’t be in that state of unknown anymore.” You watch the way his eyes flick to you before looking out the small window.

“I think in our world people said “going steady, no?” He laughed, once again surprising you.

“I’d like that.” You let the silence settle, the conversation repeating itself. The last part has you snorting. “I never thought I’d hear you say that. Seriously, never use trendy phrases again..”

“Thank god I felt ridiculous.” He looks around laughing. “Have you eaten?”

You shook your head. “Didn’t really have time to.”

“I can make something?” He offers, eyes still fixed on the floor.

You laugh standing up. “After drugging me? I’ll cook for us.”

“Hey.” He reaches out, his fingers cold as the hook yours. “It was only sleeping pills, I’m sorry, I just didn’t want you to get hurt and you’re too stubborn to listen.”

“you’re forgiven, just next time maybe don’t do that.” You smile, you don’t want to let go of his hand but your stomach rumbles, ruining the moment.

“Let’s get some food.” He smiles and as though he can read your mind he squeezes your hand, tightening his grip as he leads you to the kitchen. “You know from the mountain it’s like the further it goes the worst the buildings get, I think we are in the clearest part of Tokyo, the further out it gets the more it turns from city to forest.”

You shuffle through the few canned goods in the cupboard, picking out some fruit ones. “So what, does that mean time passes differently here?”

“I think so, we all arrived around the same time, a day or two apart, the longest period at the beach between newcomers was a week. No one entered after that, of course, there could be some who kept to themselves and ended up dying. I can’t figure it out but I did decide something….”

The way he ended the sentence alarmed you. You nodded, encouraging him to go on. “I want to join the diamond game.”

“No.” You were resolute, and definitive in your answer. “You can’t.”

“It’s the only way I’ll learn more, I haven’t lost a game up until now.“ he reassures you, in a way he was right, it’s how this world worked.

“How is your visa?” You asked, dumping the contents of the cab inside a bowl.

“I have 12 days left. That’s presuming they restarted today. What about you?” He stole a piece of melon and you slapped his hand.

“Wait until I’m finished.” You open the second can, pouring it into another bowl. “You have enough days you don’t have to play. Adding the 10 from the beach I have around 22 days.”

“You can stay behind, I think it will be better if you don’t play anymore.” He helps you carry the bowl to the table, sitting opposite you. “I have to do this. This whole time I’ve been waiting for these games. I know you’re afraid but I will come back. I just-“

“You need answers.” You supplied.

“I do.” He nodded, chewing on a piece of pineapple. “This world gave me a piece of life I didn’t know I wanted.”

“I need you to promise you’ll come back to me.” You focused on the bowl of fruit, willing your fear away. “Promise me.”

“I will do everything I can to win.” His leg brushes against yours under the table. “Eat up.”

You ate in silence, although it had grown more comfortable. You winced as you brought the food to your mouth, a light pain shooting down your arm.

He lurched forward as you hissed. “Are you okay?”

“My arm.” You mumbled.

“Let’s go sit on the couch, I’ll have a look at it.” He helps you up, walking with you, only parting to grab the small first aid box.

He stares at you expectantly, his lip caught between his teeth.

“What?”

He motions to you. “Your um.. shirt.”

You go red with embarrassment. “Oh yeah.”

You peeled under your shirt, your bra being the only thing you had on. “Uh, I don’t have anything.”

“It’s fine, if you’re comfortable I mean, it’s okay, I see it a lot…” you raise your eyebrows and he laughs “No no, not a lot being a doctor I see a lot, just, whatever.”

You laugh at his blabbering. “Can you help me take it off?”

“That’s different from your attitude yesterday.” He laughed, stepping forward. It was a little awkward but eventually, you got it off. He didn’t stare, he didn’t even look. His attention went straight to the bandages on your arm.

“It’s okay, just a little blood.” He explains. “No torn stitches.” He brings up a cleaning pad to wipe over the wound. “A week or two and we can take the stitches out, because they aren’t medical grade it has to be removed physically.”

“Will it hurt?” You grimace.

“Not as much as it hurt to have them put in, I’ll try to find some more pain medication there’s a relatively intact store about 20 minutes away.” He explains, wrapping fresh bandages.

“I’m coming this time.” You declare and he laughs, nodding. You continue, unable to stop watching his movements as you do. “The diamond game isn’t starting yet, we have time.”

“Let me guess, there’s something you want?” He raises an eyebrow, closing up the first aid box.

“You’ll come back from the game, you’ll be safe, I just want to enjoy whatever time there is before you go.” You selfishly had said them to comfort yourself, he had to come back.

He hums. “What do you want to do?”

“Have you ever played uno?” You had found a new packet in a drawer in the house, and other games around gave you the illusion there were once children here. It’s weird to think that In another world, in your world, there are children playing outside, animals bathing in the sun, mothers and fathers preparing dinner. Just because you were in a world that lacked everything normal it didn’t mean you couldn’t have a few days of good.

He watched your face, his gaze flicking from your lips to your eyes. “Uno as in the card game? I can’t say I have.”

“Oh, you’re going down.”

“Didn’t we say no more trendy phrases?”

You lifted your leg, kicking him lightly. “Asshole.”

He moved out of the way just in time, throwing your shirt back to you. And in this moment you had three thoughts:

Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe things would work out.

Maybe, just maybe, Chishiya will love you too.

[sebstanaddict]

The Distance

Chapter 5 - The Unexpected

Summary : A space adventure where we follow Bucky Barnes around the universe as he struggles to reclaim the love of his life amidst the backdrop of war between humans and the Kree race.

After spending sometime with Sebastian, will Bucky ended up liking him and letting him stay? Or will he be delighted to see him go? Moreover, Bucky was forced to accept the new situation as it seemed there was a new couple in the compound.

Pairings : Bucky Barnes x Adriana Weaver (OC)

Chapters: 5 / 20 (might add more as I write)

Chapter List >

Warning : violence, grief, angst

Word count : 7.6k

This is a sequel to my first Bucky fic, New Beginning. Check it out here.

Avengers Compound, New York - August 2024

As soon as Bucky realized who was in front of him, he threw the knife away and it clattered onto the floor. Heart still beating fast in his chest, he looked straight at Sebastian's eyes. Bucky saw that they were full of fear, but they slowly returned back to normal and slightly concerned once he had thrown his knife away. Seeing Sebastian's concerned eyes made his heart rate slowly return to normal. He then stood up and helped Sebastian to stand up as well.

"I.. I'm sorry to just barge in like this. I heard you screaming and I thought I could help.." Sebastian said.

"I'm fine. Just please, get out of here." Bucky said. His emotions after the nightmare was still tense. He remembered the dream and remembered Adriana's face and he felt he was going to break down. He didn't want Sebastian to see that.

"Is there anything I can.." Sebastian started to offer but Bucky cut him off.

"Just get out of here, Sebastian." He said, his voice raised a little. He grabbed Sebastian's shoulder and guided him out the door.

"I'll be in my room if you need anything.." Sebastian said but Bucky already closed the door in front of him.

He turned around and leaned back on the door as the familiar weight of grief washed over him like a wave. He slid down onto the floor and put both hands on his eyes as tears started to stream down his face. He couldn't help it but Adriana's face and voice as she called out to him while she was being carried by the Kree to his ship kept on appearing in his mind. Adriana.. how much I miss you. He thought in anguish.

Bucky cried for what seemed to be a long time. It has been a month since she was gone but his tears apparently had not dried out yet. His mind replayed every single memory with her. From the very first time he saw her beautiful face in his dream, to when he met her in real life at Dear Butter cafe for the first time. He remembered her first touch on his upper lip as she tried to clean it from the latte he had drunk during their first date. He remembered their first kiss in their secret garden in Central Park, how it seemed they were soulmates. He remembered looking at her in awe as he first saw her doing karate, how fierce yet beautiful she was. He remembered the first time they made love, how she looked ethereal and beautiful lying down on her bed, ready for him to make love to her. He remembered the moment he proposed to her and how she looked so happy saying yes to him. He knew he should stop replaying everything in his head. It did him no good. But he couldn't help himself.

By the time he stopped crying and replaying all the memories with her in his mind the sun outside had started to come out. He dried the tears from his eyes with his hand, took a deep breath and finally stood up. He went to his bathroom to take a shower. He decided to go hiking that day. Perhaps the long walk would make him feel better.

-----

Bucky heard the sound of laughter as he walked downstairs to the kitchen. He saw Wanda and Sebastian sitting on stools across from each other on the kitchen island. Two plates filled with what seemed to be sandwiches were placed in front of them.

"Good morning, Bucky." Wanda greeted him without even looking at him. Her eyes still glued to Sebastian's. Bucky didn't know why but he felt annoyed looking at them.

"Good morning, Bucky. I hope you feel better this morning." Sebastian looked up at him and gave him a warm smile.

"I'm better, thanks." Bucky said as he grabbed a clean mug and started to pour coffee into it.

"I'm sorry that you had a bad dream again." Wanda said, finally turning her eyes to Bucky.

"Yeah, thanks Wanda." Bucky said, sipping his black coffee.

"You know what, Sebastian and I are planning to watch a movie at the cinema this afternoon. Maybe you should come." Wanda suggested, smiling at him but Bucky shook his head.

It seemed Wanda and Sebastian were hitting it off rather well that they even were planning to go out together. Bucky suddenly remembered that Sebastian said he was seeing someone. He better warn Wanda. He didn't want her to fall into the arms of a playboy. He thought.

"No thanks, I have plans. By the way, can I talk to you for a minute?" Bucky asked.

"Sure." Wanda said, standing up from the stool.

"Sorry Sebastian. I'll be right back." Wanda smiled at Sebastian and he smiled back.

From the way they looked at each other, Bucky suspected both had feelings for each other. Which was unacceptable, especially if he was already seeing someone! Bucky thought in dislike.

He walked towards the study room with Wanda following him and he opened the door. They went inside and Bucky closed the door behind him.

"Wanda, I'm sorry, I'm not usually this nosy on other people's lives, you know I like to stay private. But.. I just don't think you should go out with Sebastian." Bucky said directly.

"Bucky, I know what you're thinking. But.. ever since I lost Vis, I've never felt really happy.. and.. Sebastian somehow makes me really happy." Wanda said, sitting on a chair nearby. Bucky sat on a chair in front of her, reached out and put his hand on hers.

"I'm sorry Wanda, but when we went to the R&D lab the other day, he said he was seeing someone." Bucky said, looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed.

"I know. He was lying." Wanda smiled a little.

"What?!" Bucky asked, his jaw dropped in surprise.

"You know I can read minds, Bucky. Sebastian said it so he could get out of having to ask Helen out. But he's not seeing someone at the moment." Wanda said nonchalantly.

"Oh.. okay.." Bucky said, letting go of Wanda's hand and leaned back on his chair.

"Don't worry Bucky. Sebastian is a really nice and sweet guy. He has such a pure soul. Something I rarely see in people nowadays." Wanda said, her eyes glazed in adoration as she seemed to be seeing Sebastian in her mind.

"Yeah.. still. Just.. be careful okay?" Bucky pleaded.

"I will. Don't worry, Bucky. Thank you for caring by the way." Wanda smiled and reached her hand out to touch his hand.

"Yeah.. you know I see you like a sister. And you were close to Adriana back then. I just.. don't want you to get hurt." Bucky said.

"I know. I see you like a brother too, Bucky." Wanda smiled and Bucky smiled back in return.

Well, he was happy that Wanda was happy even though it was with Sebastian. He wondered whether he would ever feel happy again. But thinking of Adriana, he doubted he would ever feel as happy as he was when he was with her.

"Bucky, I know right now you feel you won't ever feel happy again. I know because I felt the same way. But, I'm sure one day you'll find your Sebastian." Wanda said, smiling warmly at him.

"Yeah.. I don't know. Maybe I don't want to. She's irreplaceable to me. You know that." Bucky said.

"You may say that now but years down the road, you may feel different." Wanda winked.

"Maybe.." Bucky said doubtfully.

"Anyway, I better get back. We were about to eat Sebastian's signature egg sandwich when you came. You should try it too. It looks delicious." Wanda said, standing up.

"Egg sandwich huh?" Bucky asked as he stood up as well and they went out of the study room back into the kitchen.

"Is everything okay?" Sebastian asked once they were back in the kitchen. He was just putting another sandwich onto a plate when they came in.

"Everything is okay, Sebastian." Wanda smiled and took a seat. Bucky took a seat on a stool next to her.

"Oh glad to hear that." Sebastian smiled.

"Bucky, I made you my famous signature egg sandwich. I hope you like it." Sebastian smiled and slid the plate to him.

Wanda was right, the egg sandwich looked delicious, Bucky thought as he stared at the sandwich in front of him.

"Thanks Sebastian. You really didn't have to." Bucky said.

"You're welcome. And it's okay. I already made some for Jonathan and Sam earlier. You're the last one." Sebastian said and Bucky nodded. Maybe Wanda was right. Bucky thought. Sebastian seemed to be really nice that he even cooked breakfast for everyone.

"Mm...this is really good, Sebastian." Wanda complimented after she took a bite of the sandwich.

"Thank you. Glad you like it." Sebastian smiled as he sat on a stool across from Wanda.

Bucky took a bite of the sandwich and thought that it was surprisingly pretty good. He didn't expect Sebastian to be able to cook.

"So.. do you like it?" Sebastian asked, looking up expectantly at Bucky.

"Mmm.. yeah.. it's good." Bucky nodded after swallowing his first bite.

"Oh I'm so happy you like it." Sebastian smiled.

"By the way, what are your plans this morning? Do you have classes on Saturday?" Sebastian asked.

"Umm.. no, I don't have classes during the weekend." Bucky answered.

"Okay, so what do you usually do in the weekends?" Sebastian asked.

"I usually just catch up on my reading or hang out with the cats." Bucky shrugged.

"He's a hermit, Sebastian." Wanda chuckled.

"What's wrong with being a hermit?" Bucky asked, feeling slightly offended.

"Nothing, it's just.. I think it's better that you go out and socialize more. It helps to deal with the grief, you know." Wanda suggested.

"Hmm.. yeah. I'm actually planning on going hiking today." Bucky said.

"Ooh.. hiking! Can I come?" Sebastian asked, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Bucky didn't want his hike to be bothered by Sebastian. But, Wanda might be right. He might need some more socializing. He was getting tired of being sad and grieving over Adriana.

"Okay, you can come." Bucky finally replied, sighing.

"Thank you, Bucky." Sebastian smiled at him.

-----

Bucky could hear Sebastian's footsteps and his huffing and puffing behind him as he walked quickly on the hiking trail. The hiking trail he usually took was a 5 mile trail surrounding the compound. It took them to walk pass different terrains and environment. The trail had rocky and steep terrains as well as gentle slopes across meadows. It also passed through thick forests and barren fields. It even passed a nice stream and a small waterfall. 

Bucky stopped as they reached the small waterfall. It was located deep inside the forest. Sebastian stopped next to him, putting both hands on his knees and leaned down while taking short breaths. They had walked almost non stop from the compound to the small waterfall which was located about 3 miles from the compound. Bucky didn't think Sebastian would have trouble following him. But judging from his exhausted expression, it seemed he had some trouble.

"Sebastian, are you okay?" Bucky asked, putting his hand on Sebastian's shoulder.

"Yeah.. I'm just.. you were.. walking so fast." he said in between his breaths.

"Sorry, that was my usual pace. I'll try to slow it down." Bucky said. He forgot Sebastian wasn't a super soldier like himself so that he had a different strength and endurance than him.

"It's okay.. Bucky.. I'm trying.. to learn more.. about you.. so.. no need to.. slow down.. for me." Sebastian said and he finally sat down on the ground and took a drink from his water bottle.

Bucky sat down next to him and took a drink from his own water bottle. He gazed at the waterfall in front of him and felt somewhat at peace just listening to the sounds of the water falling down. For several moments they just sat there, enjoying the peaceful environment as they rested.

"I love it here. It's so quiet and peaceful." Sebastian commented, breaking the silence.

"Yeah. Adriana used to love it too." Bucky said, suddenly remembering that Adriana once said the exact same words as Sebastian just did when they took a hike at that same trail and stopped at that same waterfall. His heart ached as he remembered her and he could feel his eyes prickled.

"I'm sorry.." Sebastian said, looking at Bucky. It seemed he noticed Bucky's sad expression.

"It's okay." Bucky sniffled a little and blinked several times, trying to stop himself from crying.

"I know how you feel. And I know it takes months or even years to get over the grief." Sebastian sighed.

"Oh yeah, you lost your mom during the blip, right?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah, but losing my mom wasn't my first experience with grief. Before that I had experienced losing my grandmother, my step father then my father." Sebastian said.

"Oh, I see. Must have been hard." Bucky said.

"Yeah, I mean.. you know. You lost your parents at a young age didn't you?" Sebastian asked.

"Yeah, yeah I did." Bucky nodded as he remembered his parents. 

"How did you cope back then?" Sebastian asked.

"Well.. I had my sister. And Steve." Bucky said and Sebastian nodded.

"Yeah, my friends really helped too." Sebastian nodded.

"It's different now, though. I have no one now. And Adriana.. she was my soulmate." Bucky said, feeling his heart ached again.

"I never lost a girlfriend or lover like you did. I can't imagine how hard it must be." Sebastian said, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"It's really hard." Bucky said as he wiped a drop of tear from his eyes.

"You know, after I lost my father, I started reading this collection of poetry from a writer named Hussain Manawer. His poetry book is called Life is Sad and Beautiful. He lost his mother and he wrote the poetry to help deal with the grief. Somehow it helped me too. At the very least I knew I wasn't alone in feeling those heartbreaking feelings, you know." Sebastian said.

"Oh, that's great." Bucky said, his curiousity piqued.

"Yeah. I brought it with me, the book. I can lend it to you later on. Who knows, it might help you." Sebastian said.

"Oh, thank you Sebastian." Bucky nodded gratefully.

"No problem, Bucky." Sebastian smiled.

"I used to have nightmares too of my mom. She was right in front of me when she was dusted off." Sebastian said with a sad faraway look in his eyes.

"Oh, that's really awful." Bucky said in concern.

"Yeah, for the first two years after she was gone I would have the recurring nightmare of seeing her dusted off in front of me, almost every night." Sebastian sighed.

"Wow. That must be really tough." Bucky commented, a little surprised that he and Sebastian had that in common. He knew how it felt to have recurring nightmares for years. He wouldn't wish it on anyone.

"Yeah. I started corresponding to Hussain through his Instagram page. He is a moslem, and he recommended to me to start praying to God every night before I go to sleep. I wasn't much of a religious person. But, I do believe in the existence of God. So, I followed his advice and started praying to God before I go to sleep, asking for his protection from the nightmares. And like a miracle, the nightmares stopped ever since I started praying. You might want to try it." Sebastian said, looking at Bucky meaningfully.

Bucky nodded, deep in thought. It was something he never tried before. Perhaps he could try it.

"Thank you for the suggestion, Sebastian. I might try it." Bucky smiled.

"No problem, Bucky." Sebastian smiled back.

It was something Bucky didn't expect. But he started to like Sebastian. He was.. more similar to him than he thought. And he started to enjoy his company. Maybe he could let him stay longer.

"Hey, you know, if you want to stay longer.. you can." Bucky said.

Sebastian's eyes widened and he grinned in delight.

"Are you sure, Bucky?" he asked.

"Yeah, I mean.. Jonathan is staying for a month. Why don't you stay for a month too. I can teach you until you master the knife flips. And maybe even teach you hand to hand combat and weapons handling." Bucky winked.

"Oh my God! That would be awesome, Bucky!" Sebastian said in delight.

Seeing Sebastian smiled wide made his heart lighter. Guess Wanda and Sam was right. He needed to socialize more. He thought.

After enjoying the waterfall and their bodies felt well rested, they stood up and continued on their hike. Bucky felt glad he took the hike with Sebastian. He left the compound with a heavy heart and went back feeling a weight has been lifted off his heart. 

-----

"If you can make it out of your mind, you can make it anywhere"

Bucky read the words on the poetry book Sebastian lent him and the words seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks. How fitting to his situation those words were. He did, literally, managed to make it out of his mind, survived the brainwashing Hydra subjected him to. Surely, if he could manage that, he could make it anywhere, including getting over his grief of Adriana. He knew the process would take a while. But he was sure now that he could one day remember her and not feeling sad anymore. 

He closed the book and put it on his nightstand. He then sat up on his bed and raised his hands and started to pray. He prayed that God would protect him from nightmares that night, and would help heal his heart from grief. After he was done praying, he laid back on the bed and slowly closed his eyes. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

He felt the breeze on his face and the thumping of his racing heart as he rode on an animal through the forest. A horselike animal, but it wasn't exactly a horse. He glanced to his right and saw Adriana, smiling wide at him as she rode next to him on a horselike animal too. Her dark long wavy hair flew behind her. She looked so beautiful that he couldn't help but admire her. But then he looked at the animal she was riding on. Wait, they were riding on goats. Giant screaming goats! The goats suddenly flew up and they broke through the forest, soaring through to the sky above. Bucky held on tight to the goat he was on and suddenly a rainbow like bridge appeared in front of them. The goats charged on and they rode on the rainbow bridge and suddenly a bright light appeared in front of him, blinding him.

Bucky woke up in a start. He opened his eyes and squinted. The light from the sun outside his window blinded his eyes. He closed his eyes again trying to remember the dream. Well, he didn't have a nightmare, that's for sure. He had a good but weird dream of Adriana. He felt happy he could see her being happy. He wondered if somehow he met her in heaven. He shook his head as he thought how crazy it sounded. Heaven surely doesn't have screaming goats in them. He chuckled. If anything, it seemed Thor's screaming goats made an impression in his mind. He wondered where Thor was and whether he probably needed his help. He decided to try and contact him later on, see if he needed his help.

He opened his eyes again and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was already 8 am. He overslept. He was usually awake by 7 every day. He ran a hand through his hair and stood up. As soon as he opened the door he heard the sound of music. Sam and Wanda rarely put on music, so it must have been either Sebastian or Jonathan, he thought.

He walked slowly towards the kitchen and his jaw dropped as he saw the scene in front of him. Sebastian was dancing his heart out to a disco song he didn't know. He was holding a knife in his hand and somehow choreographed his dance with the knife. He couldn't help but giggle as he looked at Sebastian. He could understand now why Wanda liked him. He really could make someone happy by just looking at his antics. He continued watching him dance, not wanting to surprise him by announcing that he was there. Sebastian was closing his eyes when he did the dance but then he opened his eyes and abruptly stopped dancing once he noticed Bucky was there.

"Oh God, you surprised me!" Sebastian said, putting down the knife on the kitchen table and holding his chest in surprise.

"Sorry, Sebastian. I didn't want to stop you from dancing. Go on, please continue." Bucky said, giving him an amused smile.

"Oh no.. I can't.. God, I'm so embarassed." Sebastian's face reddened and he held the side of his face with his hand in shame.

"Don't be, you were great." Bucky said, clapping Sebastian's back as he passed him on his way to get some coffee. Sebastian sat on a stool and buried his face with his hands. He was still embarassed it seemed.

"Where is everybody?" Bucky asked after he had gotten his coffee.

"Umm.. Wanda went to Dr.Strange's place. She said he asked her to come help with some problems with creatures from another dimension, or something. Jonathan and Sam went out on a run." Sebastian explained.

"Oh okay." Bucky said as he sipped his coffee.

"So, what are your plans today?" Sebastian asked, finally recovering from being embarrassed.

"Well, there is one thing I can do that I haven't shown you yet." Bucky said with a glimmer in his eyes.

"Oh, cool. What is that?" Sebastian asked curiously.

"I actually can fly a plane." Bucky said, smiling.

"Oh wow! That's so cool!" Sebastian exclaimed excitedly.

"Yeah. I learned how to fly as preparation to face the Kree invasion. I can take you on a ride on the quinjet today if you want." Bucky said.

"Oh my God!! That would be  awesome!" Sebastian whooped in delight, making Bucky chuckle. More and more he felt Sebastian was like a little brother he never had. And he felt happy about it somehow.

-----

Avengers Compound, New York - September 2024

Time seemed to fly by so fast. Bucky didn't realize it but it was almost a month that Sebastian stayed at the compound. His presence made a major change in Bucky. He was laughing and smiling more and he never had a nightmare ever since he did what Sebastian had suggested to him. They had grown close and Bucky saw him like he was his own little brother.

It was not just Bucky that was affected. Wanda also experienced a major change. She and Sebastian officially started dating after two weeks of getting to know each other, surprising everyone. Not a day went by now that a smile was plastered on Wanda's face. An 180 degree change from the way she used to be.

Sam was really delighted to see the change in both Bucky and Wanda. He never expected Sebastian could bring so much positive change for his friends.

Sebastian himself was really happy to be at the compound. Bucky taught him almost all of the skills he had, including flying planes. But of course, Sebastian wasn't allowed to pilot a real plane. He practiced using simulators. Sebastian proved to be quite like a sponge. He absorbed everything Bucky taught him quickly. It didn't take long for him to finally be able to flip real knives, shoot with real guns and took on Bucky with his hand to hand combat skills.

Three days before his last day at the compound, Sebastian took the ultimate test, the test at the obstacle course. He managed to pass it with almost perfect score. He only missed two Hydra agents and scored only 80 on the hanging rope. But he passed the other obstacles in flying colors even though his time was longer than the others. Sebastian had proven to Bucky that he could play him in the movie very well. He could, even replace Bucky as an Avenger if he wanted, Bucky thought one day.

Bucky entered the penthouse that afternoon after meeting with the rest of the Avengers in preparation for a mission they were going to do. Someone had been selling illegal weapons and high tech gadgets in the black market in Madripoor. Sam asked Bucky to come along to investigate. Some intel had shown that the weapons and gadgets had the SHIELD and Stark Tech trademark on them. Making them suspicious that there was a mole in their midst. Bucky thought it was probably the same mole that had leaked intel about Adriana and Leila to The Flag Smashers before they were kidnapped. Sam also asked Torres and Clint to come along. They were scheduled to leave the next morning.

As soon as he opened the door to the penthouse, his eyes widened upon seeing the scene in front of him. Wanda and someone who looked exactly like him, down to the hair style and vibranium arm, were kissing on the sofa in the living room.

"Ahem.." Bucky cleared his throat and folded his hands in front of him.

Wanda and the man broke apart and both looked at Bucky in shame.

"Sorry.. Bucky.." the man said sheepishly.

"If you guys don't mind.. please get a room." Bucky gave them a stern look.

"Yeah sorry, Bucky. Come on, Sebastian, let's go to my room." Wanda said and she stood up, pulling Sebastian up with her.

Yup, the man who looked exactly like Bucky was Sebastian. He had just gotten a haircut the day before, exactly like Bucky's haircut. He also had put on a fake vibranium arm made by people on the movie production company. He had just come back from a test screen which explained his complete look as Bucky.

Seeing Wanda and Sebastian kissing felt strange to Bucky. It felt like he was watching himself. Not to mention the fact that the new love birds were joined at the hip, making him somewhat jealous. Looking at them made him miss Adriana. How much he wished she was still alive.

"Wait, before you guys go, I have to tell you something." Bucky said, motioning for them to take a seat.

"What's going on, Bucky?" Wanda asked as soon as she sat back down on the sofa. Sebastian sat back down next to her.

"Sam and I are going on a mission to Madripoor tomorrow. So, you guys are going to be on your own here. Well.. not truly on your own because Jonathan is here, of course." Bucky said.

"Oh okay." Sebastian nodded.

"Why aren't you guys asking me to come too?" Wanda asked.

"It's just a small mission, Wanda. We're already asking Torres and Clint to come. Besides, we need you here to accompany Sebastian and Jonathan. We can't leave them alone." Bucky said.

"Oh well.. Okay." Wanda said, nodding her head.

"Wait, how long are you guys going to go?" Sebastian asked.

"About two days. Why?" Bucky replied.

"Well, the day after tomorrow will be our last day here. So.." Sebastian trailed.

"Oh..yeah.. don't worry, we'll make sure we'll be back by then." Bucky said.

"Okay, great." Sebastian smiled.

-----

Sebastian looked up to see the quinjet hovering in front of him, materializing slowly from thin air. He could see Clint and Torres in the cockpit. Bucky and Sam stood next to him, waiting for the quinjet to land. Clint was taking it out for a test with Torres earlier that morning before they left for Madripoor. The engineers at SHIELD just added some new features and Clint wanted to test them out before they go.

The quinjet slowly landed on the ground without making any sound. One of the new features of it was the near silent sound it made. It also has a cool new invisibility feature, courtesy of Shuri and the Wakandans. It was a perfect plane to do stealth missions, just like what they were about to do.

"See you in a couple of days, Sebastian." Bucky turned towards Sebastian and clapped his left shoulder where he still wore the fake vibranium arm. Sebastian had decided to keep wearing the fake vibranium arm in order to learn more about doing daily activities with it. He decided to combine a little of method acting with the Meisner technique he usually used. Hoping it would yield a better performance from him.

"See you, Bucky. Careful out there." Sebastian replied, clapping Bucky's shoulder in return.

"Yeah, thanks." Bucky nodded.

Sebastian said his good bye to Sam, then they walked towards the quinjet, leaving him and Jonathan to watch them in awe.

"Do you think they'll let us pilot the quinjet one day?" Jonathan asked.

"Oh I'm sure they will.. we should ask them once they get back. Tell them it's a farewell gift for us. You know, with the invisibility feature it would be cool to have them drop us off at our apartments." Sebastian winked.

"Oh, that's a good idea." Jonathan nodded and smiled.

Moments later they watched as the quinjet took flight and turned invisible right before their eyes, leaving them staring only at the white clouds up above.

"So, shall we start the hike now?" Jonathan asked, turning his head to Sebastian.

"Yeah, sure. Let's go." Sebastian said and they turned on their heels and left the air field heading towards the exit of the compound.

Sebastian and Jonathan decided to go on a hike that morning while Wanda was away at Dr.Strange's place at the Sanctum Sanctorum. Dr.Strange appeared at the penthouse that morning, coming out of a large golden circle, surprising Sebastian as he and Wanda were eating breakfast at the kitchen. Apparently there was some problems relating to the Multiverse that Dr.Strange needed Wanda to help him with. He promised that it wouldn't take long and that Wanda would return in the afternoon.

As much as he loved dating a superhero like Wanda, it was quite disturbing to see her being suddenly called to go on missions. He wondered whether it would work for them in the long run. He knew Wanda was one of the most powerful Avengers there were and that she could take care of herself. But Sebastian couldn't help but felt worried about her. That was also one of the reasons why he worked so hard with Bucky to learn hand to hand combat and weapons handling. He wanted to be able to protect Wanda if anything should happen to her.

They took the same trail Bucky and Sebastian took three weeks ago. After that initial hike, he went on several more hikes with Bucky, Sam, Wanda and Jonathan. They even turned it into a competition one day to see who could finish first. Theoretically, Bucky should have won seeing how he was the only super soldier among them. But it turned out that Sam won. He was gloating about it and wouldn't stop bragging for a couple of days. Deep down Sebastian felt Bucky deliberately lost to make Sam feel happy. Sam just received some bad news from his family that he needed some positive thing in his life. It warmed his heart to see Bucky's gesture to Sam. Clearly, Sam meant a lot to him, just like Sebastian felt about some of his best friends from college.

It took them about one and a half hours to reach the waterfall. They walked at a brisk pace. Having had many physical exercises as part of their preparation for their roles made them able to walk faster and had better strength and endurance. They were able to walk non stop from the compound and only stopped at the waterfall.

They stopped by the waterfall and drank from their water bottles. Sebastian was just finished drinking and was about to sit on the ground when he noticed his shoelace was untied. He knelt down to tie it and that was when he heard it. A zing sound like from a laser gun reached his ears and he felt something hot passed his head. The water in the pond in front of him suddenly seemed to heat up as vapor started to appear on the surface.

"Jonathan, run!" He yelled out loud when he realized they were being attacked.

"What's going on?!" Jonathan asked as they ran quickly through the forest. The sound of the laser gun chased them and the laser beams coming out of it hit trees and the ground beneath their feet, leaving scorch marks on the trees and the ground.

"I don't know!" Sebastian yelled back as they continued running through the forest as fast as they could.

He suddenly felt something hot burning his right arm. Whoever it was that was shooting at them successfully grazed his arm with the laser beam.

"Ouch!" He yelled in pain as he glanced at his right arm. A patch of skin on his arm had burned, leaving black and red scorch marks on them. He tried to hold the pain as he continued to run quickly through the forest, hoping they could find somewhere to hide.

He saw an abandoned wooden house in front of him and quickly went in along with Jonathan, closing the door behind him. A laser beam hit the door of the house and burnt a hole through it, missing his head by mere inches. He quickly ducked and ran to the nearest room in the house.

The sound of lasers finally stopped as they hid in the abandoned room. They kept their head down to avoid being seen through the window as whoever it was who was chasing them seemed to be walking nearer to the house.

Sebastian looked around, trying to find something in the house that could be used as a weapon. But the house was empty, devoid of anything. He looked down and saw that parts of the wooden floor had been broken. He pulled one plank of wood from the floor, leaving a rusted nail at the end. Jonathan followed his example and pulled out another wooden plank from the floor, ready to use it to defend himself.

Suddenly the front door was opened and they could hear footsteps entering the house. Heart pounding hard in his chest, he gestured to Jonathan to hide beside one side of the door of the room while he hid on the other side. They prepared themselves to attack whoever it was that had been attacking them.

Moments went by as their attacker made their way throughout the house, trying to find them. Their attacker  finally stopped in front of the room they were in.

"Ready?" Sebastian mouthed at Jonathan. Jonathan nodded.

Slowly their attacker appeared through the door. Sebastian's jaw dropped as he saw the attacker. He was tall and burly, about 7 feet tall, a feet taller than himself. But it was his skin color that surprised him the most. Their attacker had blue skin. A Kree was attacking them! Sebastian thought in disbelief.

Before the Kree had any chance to notice them, Sebastian and Jonathan hit his head and body with the wooden planks, surprising the Kree. They continued to hit him and Sebastian's rusted nail successfully wounded the Kree on multiple spots on his body. But the Kree was strong. They naturally was built as strong as a human super soldier. He grabbed Sebastian's wooden plank, broke it into two and was just about to grab Sebastian by the neck but Sebastian ducked and rammed his head into the Kree's stomach, pushing him to a wall and the fragile wooden wall crumbled away, making the Kree fell on his back onto the floor. Before he got the chance to get up, Sebastian kicked him hard on the groin. The Kree held his groin with his hands and grunted in pain. Sebastian then quickly ran out of the house with Jonathan following close by.

"Where are we going?" Jonathan asked in between his breath as they ran into the safety of the forest.

"We need to get back to the compound. Get some help." Sebastian replied breathlessly.

Suddenly the sound of laser beams reached their ears again. The Kree had recovered and just walked out of the house, shooting lasers at them. Sebastian continued running while ducking his head.

There was a large boulder up ahead. Sebastian ran to hide behind it and grabbed Jonathan to hide too. Heart beating hard in his chest, he listened quietly, trying to gauge if the Kree was still coming their way or not.

The Kree had stopped shooting lasers at them. He walked very slowly towards where they were. His footsteps almost couldn't be heard. But then he stepped on a branch lying on the ground and the sound gave Sebastian an idea of where he was which was about thirty feet from where they were.

"We should split up. You go on ahead back to the compound while I distract him." Sebastian whispered to Jonathan.

"What? No no.. I'm staying." Jonathan shook his head vigorously.

"Come on.. that's the only way we can get some proper help." Sebastian whispered again.

Jonathan sighed and finally nodded.

"Be careful." Jonathan whispered and he gave Sebastian a hug. Sebastian hugged him back and then gestured his head to the side, beckoning Jonathan to go to that direction while he distracted the Kree to the other direction. Jonathan nodded in understanding.

Sebastian braced himself and stole a peek from behind the boulder. The Kree was standing not far from where he was. He took the time to study the Kree. He had long braided hair pulled up in a half up half down style. His eyes seemed to be yellow and his nose wide. He wore a tight black suit with blue designs on them and a big blue star on the chest. He was holding a laser gun looking like a small rifle.

Sebastian looked around trying to find some rocks. He grabbed a small rock and a bigger one. He then threw the small rock as far away as possible to his right. The sound of the rock hitting the ground attracted the Kree. He walked slowly towards the sound, passing the large boulder Sebastian and Jonathan was hiding behind. Sebastian held on to the large rock with his hand and once the Kree had walked past him, his back to him, Sebastian quickly ran to the Kree and hit his head with the rock. Jonathan ran to the other side, trying to get back to the compound.

The Kree fell down onto the ground as he became unconscious once he was hit by the large rock. Sebastian walked closer to him, intending to study him. He had never seen a Kree up close before. During the invasion, he had hid in an underground bunker right under his apartment. So he missed all the fighting happening up on the surface of the city and didn't see a single Kree.

He was about to pick up the laser gun that had fallen on the ground right next to the Kree's hand when the Kree opened his eyes and grabbed Sebastian by the neck with both his hands. Choking and gasping for air, Sebastian tried to loosen the Kree's grip on his neck with his hands but The Kree was really strong. His mind worked frantically trying to find a solution to get out of the deadly situation. He suddenly remembered a technique Bucky taught him to get out of a choke hold and decided to use it. He put both his hands underneath the Kree's outstretched arms, put his thumbs on the Kree's eyes and the rest of his fingers on the Kree's head. With as much force as he could he pulled the Kree's head to his head, hitting the Kree's forehead with his own. The contact from the Kree's head to his own was more painful than he expected but it did the job, the Kree let his hands go from Sebastian's neck and grunted in pain.

With his head still spinning around, Sebastian quickly ran away from the Kree. The Kree stood up slowly and grabbed his laser gun. He then took off in pursuit of Sebastian, shooting laser beams at Sebastian's direction.

Sebastian ran as fast as he could but he was starting to get exhausted. His legs burnt from the pain of continuous running. He stopped as he reached the edge of the forest and a large meadow was in front of him. There was no way he could run onto the meadow. He could be like a sitting duck out there. So he ran to the side and hid behind a large tree.

The Kree stopped running several feet away from him, knowing Sebastian had also stopped. He held his laser gun up on his shoulder with both hands, aiming it at the front while he slowly walked around, trying to find Sebastian.

Heart beating fast in his chest Sebastian tried to quietly go back into the forest, but his feet stepped on a branch and the Kree immediately knew where he was. He ducked as the Kree started to shoot lasers at him. He felt the burn as one of the laser beam hit his thigh. As he tried to hold the pain, he continued to walk away from the Kree, hiding among trees. But the Kree successfully caught up to him. Before the Kree had the chance to attack him again, Sebastian quickly grabbed the laser gun from the Kree's hands and pointed it upwards. Some laser beams was shot upwards, hitting the leaves on the trees and setting them on fire, leaving a trail of smoke up above their heads. With as much force as possible Sebastian tried to keep the laser gun pointed away from him, but when he was focused too much on it, the Kree kicked his legs and he fell to the ground. The Kree then pointed the laser gun on Sebastian's chest and shot it, leaving a hole in his chest. Sebastian felt the burn on his chest and his eyes widened as the flicker of life was extinguished from his eyes.

-----

Torfa, Outskirts of Greater Magellanic Cloud - July 2024

Not long after the ship went into warp, it went out of warp and Adriana was jolted on her seat to the front but was thankfully pulled back to her seat by the safety belts. The ship flew slowly towards a mostly brown planet with silver rings surrounding it. Her eyes widened as they flew closer to the planet's surface.

Thick fog welcomed them as they flew in closer to the surface. Yon-Rogg turned the front light of the ship on and Adriana could see the planet's surface. There was a large body of water on it and barren land. She could also see what looked like a forest in the distance. They passed some curious structures, like the remains of temples from previous civilization. They flew over it and Yon-Rogg steered the ship towards a mountain. After sometime Yon-Rogg landed the ship in front of a cave on the mountain.

"Welcome to Torfa." He said, turning to her and smiling at her.

"Torfa.. " Adriana trailed, the name of the planet didn't ring a bell at all in her mind.

"Yes." Yon-Rogg said as he unbuckled his safety belt, stood up and walked towards her.

Adriana looked down and tried to unbuckle her own safety belt but couldn't.

"Here's how you do it." Yon-Rogg said, leaning down to help her. His hand brushed on hers as he tried to unbuckle her safety belt and for a split second she could see that he seemed to be blushing again. She really wondered what the nature of their relationship was.

"Thanks." Adriana said after Yon-Rogg successfully unbuckle her safety belt.

"You're welcome." He said again and he gave her another small smile.

They went out of the ship and Adriana could feel cold wind blowing around them. They were quite high up on the mountain which explained the cold. She wrapped herself with her arms and followed Yon-Rogg as they walked towards the cave.

"Can you tell me why we're here?" Adriana asked as they entered the cave.

Yon-Rogg didn't answer her as he walked further into the cave. He pulled out what looked like a flashlight and pointed it into the cave. After making sure that the cave was empty, he guided Adriana to sit on the ground and he sat in front of her.

"Una, I'm now going to tell you everything you need to know. I hope by the end of it you will understand more of what is going on. And hopefully will forgive me for what I'm about to do." Yon-Rogg said and Adriana nodded. This was what she was waiting for.

"Your name is Una-Ver. You are part of a special elite task force in the Kree military called Starforce. I am your leading commander. We have been ordered by Supreme Intelligence to invade earth and after years of preparation we finally went to earth. Unfortunately, despite all of our preparations, we failed in our attempt to invade earth. We lost almost all of the members of the Starforce. We lost 90% of our sentries and 70% of our fighter pilots. People of earth had prepared well in anticipation of our attack and they were not as weak as we thought they were. Seeing how they were so prepared, Supreme Intelligence and I suspected there is a mole in our ranks. Someone who has been leaking information to the people on earth. Supreme Intelligence believes that the mole is.. you." Yon-Rogg said, staring at her with no emotion in his eyes.

"What?! I'm a mole?!" Adriana exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes. And that brings us to now. I'm sorry, Una.. you know I can never betray Supreme Intelligence. His wish is my command. I'm sorry that I have to do this." Yon-Rogg said as he stood up, pulled out a laser gun from a holster on his waist and pointed it to Adriana's head.

Adriana froze as she felt the cold laser gun on her temple. Her mind couldn't think, couldn't process what she was just told. The only thing she could do was surrender. If she really was a mole, then she deserved to die. She closed her eyes, waiting for death to come and take her away.

Chapter 6 >

[pillage-and-lute]

The Stars Are Not Wanted Now

Was this among my list of WIPs I posted recently? No. Not at all. Because it popped into my head fully formed and hurt my feelings so I decided to make it everyone’s problem.

TW: Believed character death (not real) ,grief, discussions of hallucinations.

Title cheerfully stolen from W. H. Auden’s Funeral Blues

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It took Geralt almost an hour to realize what he’d done. He’d sat and stewed and wished his tearducts would give him more catharsis than a handful of small drops. He wanted to sob, really cry, eyes red and face wet, but his body let him down. He stared for a while at the dirt. At the footprints in the dirt.

They weren’t his. They were from Jaskier’s stupid shiny boots. Impractical boots that gave him blisters, but he’d only had enough money for one pair and he needed ‘court boots’ apparently. And he was walking down the mountain in those silly boots and a doublet that wouldn’t keep him warm as the mountain air chilled with night and Geralt had just let him go. Geralt had made him go. He didn’t have any gear, they shared gear and Geralt had made him leave.

Geralt’s slow, witcher heart beat double time as he realized he might have murdered his bard. 

Roach huffed at him for being gone so long but he shushed her and loaded her up as quickly as he could. He needed her, and Jaskier needed him.

Geralt followed the footprints like a bloodhound, eyes and senses searching, but his mind wandered behind. Their relationship was such an odd one, Jaskier always traveling ahead or staying behind. Bards needed audiences and witchers needed wilderness, but they were never more than a few days from eachother, and every town Geralt went into he could be sure Jaskier was there. There had been exceptions of course, when bardic festivals or court appointments swayed Jaskier’s path, but he always came back. It was down to the separate nature of Geralt’s Path, with the capital P, and Jaskier’s path. Bards traveled between towns, straight shots, rarely sleeping rough, so his bard didn’t need gear, and it would only slow him down. Witchers wandered, fighting a monster here, collecting potion ingredients there, and coming to towns only for contracts and coin.

Geralt’s eyes scanned every inch of the track, never missing the boot prints, noting the depth of them, the scent of sadness lingering. A human would have missed the single, red thread caught on a bush, the shade of Jaskier’s stupid, too thin doublet. Geralt’s fingers plucked it from a branch. 

He remembered how, in the first years of their acquaintance, he’d watched the bard walk away each time, believing he’d never see him again. But Jaskier had always come back. He’d circle around or wait in the next tiny village, playing ditties for barmaids and he’d greet Geralt with a smile that struck something sensitive and previously well protected in Geralt’s chest. Slowly Geralt had started expecting Jaskier’s presence and those treasured smiles.

It had come with detriments, that was true, Jaskier talked so much Geralt wondered how he found the air and he was foppish and disinclined to wake before noon. It was just that, so slowly that Geralt didn’t know how it had happened, those faults found favor in Geralt’s eyes. 

And now he’d told Jaskier he was a burden. That he wanted him gone. As Geralt had grown to treasure his bard he’d stopped expecting Jaskier would leave him and started fearing he would instead. Geralt had just been the creator of his own nightmares, doing to their friendship what wind, weather, time, and age could not. 

That was the thing, Geralt thought as his eyes scanned the trail, near invisible in the dark. Age. Jaskier was forty at least. Crow’s feet, Yennefer had said. He would have to leave Geralt sooner or later, settle in some city and see him only if Geralt sought him out. The impending end to their precious routine rolled Geralt’s stomach and took over his thoughts. Now, though, well, how weak was a forty year old human? Strong enough to go down the mountain in the dark? It seemed so, which was frustrating. Geralt was going as fast as he could while tracking Jaskier’s every footstep, but even his magical eyes only saw so much in total darkness. Jaskier was hiking blind. 

A new scent drifted to Geralt’s nose. Wolf. A mixture of fur and wilderness and wet dog. 

And blood. 

Geralt let go of Roach’s reigns, sprinting as best he could, letting his nose lead him. He could smell blood. He followed it into the trees, crashing through the brush, careless of the briars that tore at him. He didn’t even smell his own blood, it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. All his senses narrowed down to the smell of Jaskier’s blood and...

and his eyes saw red. a torn doublet,

Geralt lurched forward, hoping, praying that it didn’t mean what he knew it meant. He clutched the rags to him and he stumbled. His foot hit something. 

A boot. A stupid, shiny boot and it reeked of blood. Geralt let it fall from numb fingers. A tiny beam of moonlight struggled down, gleaming dully off of leather. Geralt knelt before the instrument case, smelling blood on the strap, feeling the contours of it. When he lifted it it was heavy. Jaskier had died alone on a vicious mountainside, devoid of his beautiful doublet and his lute. 

Geralt felt a puff of breath on the back of his head. Roach had followed after him, picking her way through the forest in the wake of his mad dash. He pressed his face into her mane and finally felt tears flood his cheeks. She settled beside him when he no longer had enough water to cry and he just stayed there, knelt between tree roots and bushes, cradling the lute and a scrap of doublet that still smelled like chamomile. 

He didn’t move until dawn.

When the runny light of morning came Geralt just moved on. Whatever had happened to Jaskier’s body, he couldn’t see it. Of course the bard deserved a proper burial, and Geralt cursed his weakness all the way down the mountain, but there mightn’t be much of Jaskier left to find. Geralt felt sure that if he saw his friend like that he’d simply lay down next to him and die too. 

He already felt like he might. 

Geralt moved on, physically. He moved around, slinging Jaskier’s lute up with his saddlebags. He wandered between towns and fought monsters, going north in a roundabout way. Going home. 

Kaer Morhen was going to be cold that year, it always was, and Jaskier was never there, but without the hope of Jaskier’s smile in the spring the cold seemed to have taken residence in his soul.

Geralt wasn’t eating well. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than chew a few pieces of dried meat. He drank a lot and didn’t sleep and took too many risks when fighting monsters. It was foolish, he knew, it was how witchers died, getting sloppy like that. He did it anyway. And on the rare nights he did sleep, he clutched the tattered piece of doublet. The chamomile scent was slowly fading and Geralt feared when it left entirely. It and the doublet were all he had.

In light of all of this, Geralt wasn’t that surprised when he finally lost it. He heard music in a tavern and it sounded like Jaskier. Every bard sounded like Jaskier now. There were no instruments, just an achingly familiar voice. Of course, Geralt still had the lute. 

When he walked into the tavern and saw a bard turn, saw Jaskier smile wide at him, Geralt didn’t even flinch. His medallion was still on his chest. This was no ghost, he had simply lost his mind. 

Geralt sat at the bar without looking away from the apparition, and his heart swelled as it sauntered towards him. Jaskier looked so lifelike, so alive. There wasn’t a scratch on him. He was exactly the bard Geralt remebered, no crows feet to be seen. He was dressed in blue, not unlike when they had first met. Geralt’s heart twisted as he remebered all things he’d said, and, even worse, the things he hadn’t. His heart was thundering in his ears, blood rushing, everything else tuned out. It didn’t matter that Geralt had gone crazy, Jaskier was here and so beautiful and Geralt loved him so much that it hurt. 

“Mind if I join you?” The hallucination said. Geralt just stared. He wasn’t going to talk to it, there were enough rumors about witchers without the townsfolk knowing he was crazy.

“C’mon, now, Geralt,” the faux Jaskier said. “You wouldn’t keep a man with bread in his pants waiting.” 

Geralt just stared as the bard pulled a half-eaten roll from his pocket and winked. The hallucination stopped smiling, shoulders slumping. “I’ll go,” it said. 

“Stay,” Geralt whipsered immediately. He was alright with going crazy because this last bit of comfort was so tantalizing, so real Geralt could almost reach out and touch. “Please,” he said, even quieter. “I’m sorry.” 

Jaskier beamed and sat and ate and Geralt wondered idly who the bartender served in place of the man he knew couldn’t be there. 

Geralt had thought the hallucination would be gone in the morning, but the vision of Jaskier was standing by Roach the next day, a travel bag over one shoulder. Okay, Geralt’s brain was in it for the long haul. Fine, but there had to be rules. That momentary weakness last night couldn’t happen again. He needed to get to Kaer Morhen soon if he wanted to beat the snows and there could be no distractions. So, no talking to the bard.

It was very hard not to talk to the hallucination. It traipsed and danced and prodded and teased, but when it got not even a hum in response the exhuberance dimmed. That was horrible. Geralt didn’t need the reminder that he’d hurt Jaskier’s feelings, he’d already killed him. The proof was walking right beside him.

Something in Geralt felt healed, though. It was why he didn’t try to fix this. Having Jaskier, even if it wasn’t real, was nice. He wondered what would happen if he reached out and kissed the bard. It was his hallucination after all. The thought, though, that he would reach out to Jaskier, who looked so real and alive, and feel nothing but air....Geralt would rather go through the trials again. It would be like losing Jaskier all over. 

One night, when the hallucination reached out for the instrument strung on Roach’s saddle Geralt tensed. Some part of him believed that if this shade of Jaskier was reunited with his beloved lute he’d go, dissappear and leave Geralt all alone again. He didn’t, of course. This wasn’t a spirit, Jaskier wasn’t tied to this realm by the lute. He was a figment of Geralt’s tortured mind. 

He played Toss a Coin and Her Sweet Kiss. As far as Geralt knew, Jaskier hadn’t finished the latter, but his imagination finished it anyway. It hurt to hear Jaskier singing about love unrequited, it was obviously about Yennefer but that...that wasn’t Geralt’s love. Geralt’s love had be eaten by a mountain. Red sky at dawning, Geralt had had enough of red. It didn’t put him in mind of Yennefer’s lips or of rubies or harpies or anything else, but Jaskier’s doublet, the scrap still hidden in Geralt’s bags, and some words. “See you around, Geralt”

The apparition continued to play, but Geralt turned his face away. Maybe this was torturing him for killing his only blessing. 

At the crossroads of the northern mountains Geralt paused. He had been walking besde Roach, resting her for the trek up the Killer, with Jaskier’s lute across the saddlebags and his hallucination trailing along behind. This was where Jaskier always parted from him in the autumn, and the hallucination stepped forward, reaching toward the lute on Roach’s back. Geralt felt ice down his spine. 

His hallucination was going to leave, of course it was, Geralt had never brought Jaskier to the keep, but to be there all winter without this small, fake comfort would kill him.  

Geralt wrapped his hand around the lute strap, ready to pull it from the nonexistant fingers of his dead companion. “No,” he said. 

He slung the lute over his shoulder and walked toward the Killer, praying that his failing mind wouldn’t choose now to become sane. To his relief, the hallucination followed. 

On the way to the keep the vision changed into a warmer cloak and gloves and Geralt marveled at the detail. He wondered if he wasn’t dead himself, or asleep and simply dreaming, but he kept going up the trail, hearing the crunch of Jaskier’s shiny boots on frost. The vision talked and Geralt loved its voice and cursed the sound.

Night was falling when they reached the gate of the keep, and Geralt could see three lit lanterns, one for each brother and another for Vesemir. He paused, watching the lights come closer. He drew a breath, in through his nose, smelling pine and chamomile, out through his mouth. He couldn’t let the others know. He had to pretend that the ghost of all his regrets wasn’t doggin his steps. He flexed his fingers on the strap of the lute. 

“Don’t just stand there, idiot, get in here, it’s cold,” Lambert called. Eskel smiled at Geralt and took Roach’s reigns, cooing to her as Geralt followed Vesemir and Lambert into the hall. 

The fire was lit and warmth seeped into Geralt’s numb fingers and toes. Vesemir raised an eyebrow at him.

“Aren’t you going to introduce your guest?”

“What?”

“Vesemir shook his head. “Gods almighty, Geralt, I didn’t raise you boys with much manners but I thought you had some.” Then Vesemir turned to where the vision of Jaskier stood. “You Geralt’s bard?” he asked.

“There’s no one there, Ves,” Geralt hazarded. 

Vesemir scowled at him. “Stupid prank to play on your old teacher. Never get an apprentice, lad, they’ll take your sanity and all your time.” That last part wasn’t aimed at Geralt. It was like someone had poured fire into Geralt’s veins.

“You can see him too?” he asked, quietly. 

“What game are you--” Vesemir began, but Jaskier’s eyes had gone soft with understanding.

“Oh, Geralt,” he whispered. 

Geralt stretched out one shaking hand and caressed his bard’s chilly cheek. Jaskier leaned his face into it and brushed a kiss against the palm. “I’m so sorry, dear heart,” he said, stepping closer to Geralt and wrapping his arms around his neck. “I should have known something was off.”

“You were dead,” Geralt said into the crook of his neck. “There was blood and your doublet was shredded, and you left your lute behind.” 

“You truly thought...all this time? Geralt, I thought you knew,” Jaskier said, warm breath brushing Geralt’s ear. To his surprise, Geralt was crying, tiny, bare tears and shoulders shaking. 

“Knew you were alive?”

“That too, but dearest, I’m a changeling, on the mountain I...I was so sad I just wanted to run away, and I was so tired, so I became a wolf.”

“Changeling...you’re fae?”

“Only half,” Jaskier said. “Or less, I’m not sure, but I can change into all the animal of the forest.”

“You never have.”

“It’s a painful feeling and you can’t play a lute with wings or paws but I was overwhelmed so I just...oh darling I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to think--”

“I smelled blood.”

“My boots, you told me to buy the practical ones, but I didn’t listen.”

Geralt pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s and felt the warmth of him. “You’re alive,” he said. “You’re real and you’re alive.”

“You thought all this time I was a ghost?”

“A hallucination,” Geralt said. “A good dream, or torture for killing my...”

“Killing your what, darling?” 

“Killing my love. Letting my greatest blessing be taken from my hands. I thought it was penance, my love.”

Jaskier leaned in and kissed Geralt softly. His lips were soft and perfect and too chapped to be a dream. His breath tasted like the jerky they’d eaten on the trail and it was real. When he pulled away Geralt leaned back in and kissed him again. 

“Nothing I said on the mountain was true,” he mumbled against dry lips. “Not a word. I love you more than life itself.”

“I love you too,” Jaskier said. “And I won’t leave again, not even if you tell me to.”

“I won’t,” Geralt said. “Never again.”

[ratmonky]

Blood of Purity

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: non-con, virginity kink, blood kink, blood, stalking, simple and badly written horror pron

AO3 Link

Being brought back to earth to feel the sunlight kissing his skin made Choso appreciate these two new associates. Other than that he was grateful because he and his two brothers were finally united back again, it warmed his heart.

To him, family was the most important thing in the world. Losing his brothers could make him go berserk because that would mean that he couldn’t hold his promise of protecting them.

He hoped he could protect them for another century and live a quiet life after he was done with whatever those other two wanted from him.

The smell of something delicious filled his nostrils, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Ahh, the sweet, sweet scent of blood that was pure, almost like a flower. It had been a long time since he had smelled it.

He froze, there wasn’t anyone up in the mountains with him to produce such redolent-smelling blood in their body.

“Are you alright?” A meek voice asked.

Choso was a little surprised and couldn’t stop his shoulders from rising because of the sudden noise. His stare found you, you were wearing hiking clothes looking a little too tired but still had a worried look on your face, which was aimed at him.

“You look awful, do you need food? Did you lose your hiking trail? Should I call for help?” You took out your phone but clicked your tongue soon after, “Ugh,  no service. Whatever I can try to help. Are you hurt?”

He didn’t want to talk to a human, so he turned around to walk back into the hideout. The hideout was a simple cave with some furniture, away from the civilization and humans as the other two said but here you were standing.

The last thing he wanted was to being disturbed by another living.

However, as he took another step, he realized that he was being held back. He whipped his head around to glare at you for pulling at his clothes but his face sort of softened when he saw you holding out a bottle of water for him.

“This is for you to drink!” you said slowly, assuming he didn’t understand. While you were exaggeratedly and embarrassingly trying to showcase to him how to drink water, Choso spoke.

“I don’t need anything.”

“Ah.” Your cheeks flushed from embarrassment and you pulled your hand from his clothes at the same time you nearly dropped the water bottle. “You should’ve told me you understood me, I feel so bad now. Was it embarrassing?”

“Very.”

Slapping a hand on your forehead, you slowly dragged it down. “Please forget that. Let’s start from the beginning, hi, I’m (name).”

“I didn’t ask for your name.”

“O-oh.. right. Sorry, I just hope you aren’t hurt or anything. I wasn’t expecting to meet someone this high up in the moun-”

Choso walked away to avoid the conversation and you didn’t try to talk or stop him again.

It worked.

He glanced over his shoulder as you continued your trail and the delicious smell of pure blood became fainter the further you walked into the forest.

There was a moment of hesitation for him, something within him twisting. It felt like he had knots all over his chest, yearning for that pure blood. He had forgotten how delirious it could get him.

Shaking his head, he tried clearing his thoughts. No. This wasn’t the time nor the place.

~~~

After finding an open clearing that could be a good enough campsite before it got dark, you set up your tent to sleep for the night, the opening was large enough for your tiny tent and small enough for you to feel safe. You skipped lighting up a fire and went straight inside your tent to avoid blood-sucking mosquitos.

Although staying inside the tent and eating a granola bar wouldn’t count as a camping experience by many people, it was your first time camping alone. So, you wanted to save your energy for hiking rather than the useless stuff. Nobody cared. The real experience was the hiking, the tall trees, the breathtaking views from the cliffs, and the cute animals you come across if you were lucky enough,

That was the whole purpose. To come here and forget about everything else to enjoy nature.

Several months ago you had made a promise to yourself that you were going to go hiking in the mountains if you never got the promotion you pretty much earned at your job. Well, you never got promoted nor did you work at that office anymore. You dropped off everything to make a fresh start.

That was how you ended up here. Your hiking adventure was going to last for three nights and four days. Today was your only second night and you still had a long way to hike. You were hoping to reach this one cliff you had heard about from the locals, they said that there was a flower field under the cliff, making the view look straight out of a painting.

Maybe if you were lucky you could have a picnic on the cliff before the dark fell tomorrow, watching the view under the bright blue sky. Oh, perhaps you could even set up your tent on the cliff so you could enjoy the scenic view while having breakfast.

You were full of high expectations for tomorrow and the excitement had you rolling around in your double sleeping bag. Having eaten your dinner hours ago, which consisted of a simple granola bar, you were ready to sleep.

Turning off the small lantern you had in the corner of the tent, you nestled inside the sleeping bag, closing your eyes with a smile.

Rustle.

You turned around in the sleeping bag. The rustling of the trees from the wind continued. Humming contentedly in your sleep, a smile spread across your face, it felt peaceful, calm.

Whereas the sounds of car honks and screeching tires would interrupt your sleep in the city, here… there was nothing. Just peace.

Moving further inside the sleeping bag, you smacked your lips, nuzzling your face into the small pillow to continue sleeping.

The wind returned, shook the trees, and crunched on the leaves.

Crunched on the leaves?

You snapped a single eye open and froze in your spot, listening carefully.

Silence.

Ugh, it could have been a single old tree branch falling down and crushing some leaves. Nothing too important. Go back to sleep.

Crunch.

It came from outside of your tent, right where the tent door was. Though, whatever it was, it was far away.

Crunch.

Closer.

Crunch.

It was coming closer.

Crunch.

As if someone was knowingly stepping on the tree branches and the leaves that would make the most sound to announce their approach, each step forward and closer to your tent was being taken deliberately. Whoever was outside, they wanted you to know.

Crunch.

The sinking feeling of not being alone left you petrified and you only hoped they were a passerby, another hiker.

Are you dumb?

Who would hike in the middle of the night?

Crunch.

You sank deeper into your sleeping bag, heart palpitating in fear and lips trembling. There was this urge to scream and yell at them to stay back but you wanted to hold onto that silly idea of it being an animal. A fox or a deer.

Don’t you know?

Crunch.

Both of those animals moved quietly.

Crunch.

This was a human.

Crunch.

At least… you hoped it was a human.

Crunch.

It stopped. It was right outside. Standing directly in front of the door of your tent.

Your entire body was trembling violently inside the sleeping bag, your limbs had turned to stone, you couldn’t move them.

You heard a sigh and a mumbling.

It was a man.

Now, you were even more scared. You didn’t know what to do, if you made a sound he could get scared and leave or just dive inside. Or what if you turned on the lantern? Would he leave then? No, no, no. This wasn’t some gambling game, you weren’t going to get to redo any of these, you had to be careful.

You chose to wait.

Wait to see what was going to happen.

You didn’t know what you were expecting but it wasn’t the man outside grabbing the zipper and opening the tent flap without giving you a moment to react.

He was coming in.

You yelped in surprise and the person stopped briefly but his hand still grabbed the flap to lift it so he could duck inside.

Finally finding the vigor to move, you started kicking at the sleeping bag and crawled to the furthest corner of the tiny tent as the man entered inside the tent, closing the zipper shut after himself.

“G-get out!” Your ears were ringing, you had never been in a situation like this. You didn’t know who he was or what he wanted but it was clear as day that he was here to hurt you. No sane person would invade someone else’s tent like this.

“As I guessed, it’s coming from you.” He spoke to himself, ignoring your words.

Fear began taking over your nerves, your body was shaking uncontrollably as you realized that the man’s features you managed to make out in the dark were awfully similar to the man you had seen earlier today. The one who looked like he was about to pass out at any given moment.

Your mouth popped open but you couldn’t scream, the fact that you had walked past him five hours earlier and him finding you here meant only one thing.

He had followed you here.

There was only one question and it was-

“W-what do you want from me?”

He was crouched down by the tent’s door, he hadn’t moved ever since he entered inside but you could see him shaking his head, debating for something in his own mind.

“No, no, no…” He covered his ears with his hands like a kid and crawled up into a ball by the corner of the tent. “This isn’t the time.”

Oh, he was deranged. You could feel your own sanity slip away, wanting to disappear, teleport away or drop dead at this moment to avoid dealing with this man.

“Please, leave.” Your words were weaker than a whisper but even with his covered ears, he heard you, lifting his head to look in your direction.

You flinched from the way you could see something reflecting light in his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have zipped that thing closed, the smell is intoxicating.” He moved a hand to cover his mouth and nose. The delicious smell of the pure blood in this small space was overwhelming all of his senses.

“W-what smell?”

He was surprised you didn’t even notice but he couldn’t blame you. Humans couldn’t understand these sorts of things. Not curses either. He was… different than the rest. He knew his brothers couldn’t differentiate pure blood from the corrupted. They didn’t need to anyway, they were younger than him.

As an older brother, Choso was more mature. He knew about the things his brothers didn’t know about.

Choso looked at your pretty face. He hadn’t noticed it before, how foolish of him! If he hadn’t overreacted at that moment he would have noticed that the sweet smell was coming from you and he wouldn’t have to trail after you for so long.

It was curiosity at first. Then it was a mission to confirm if the smell was actually coming from you but now that he knew it belonged to you, he wasn’t sure if he could just… leave.

He moved, crawling towards you, you spared him a single warning look and hissed out your next words. “Stay back.”

He didn’t stay back, Choso crawled closer to you slowly, without any real hurry because both of you knew that you were only a prey. No matter what you did, there was no way out for you.

It would be like a rabbit going against a wolf. However, from the way he was towering over you with his height in the cramped space with his hair brushing against the tent ceiling, it didn’t look like you were the prey he was going to kill. There was a soft look on his face, indicating that what he was going to do was so much more sinister.

“I never told you my name. It’s Choso.”

You leaned back onto the tent to put distance between the two of you but he grabbed you by your ankles, abruptly pulling you under him.

A fearful shriek left your lips, you started kicking and struggling but Choso held you in place with a single hand. His strength was unmatchable, you were helpless against him.

“I don’t understand! What do you want from me? Is it money?” You weren’t dumb, you knew he wasn’t here for money nor was he asking for help.

Choso couldn’t give you an honest answer. Not even if he tried. He was a composed man, he liked to believe that was true. He was mature and the oldest of his ten siblings. He had to be a role model to them yet here he was overpowering a poor, helpless little human.

“I will take something from you,” he explained, slowly. He lied to himself, telling himself that he was going to take it because he believed in those silly myths. Myths of the pure blood giving a curse like him that uses blood power no one had experienced before.

He was doing this to protect his brothers. But he had done this in the past too, he knew the myths were untrue and this was only for his own personal satisfaction. He liked the feeling of the pureblood on his skin, the luscious taste of it, and the sweet smell it produced.

How selfish for a brother like him. How childish for an older brother like him.

“W-what?” you dared to ask.

Choso gave you the answer by pulling off your pants along with your underwear.

With renewed vigor you started struggling harder, screaming and kicking. Again, Choso was stronger. You were only a little rabbit trying to fight against a vicious wolf. You had no chance of winning.

“Don’t… Don’t fight back. It’s been a while since I held a woman and I may hurt you,” he said in a straight tone, it was indifferent but his words were threatening. I can hurt you if I’m not careful.

Your body went stiff at his words. He was actually going to take you with force. A pained sob got stuck in your throat and it made your chest clench. You wanted to tell him to stop, beg for him to stop.

He knew you were a fragile little thing, he found it adorable. Small things were cute, things to be protected were always adorable in his eyes. Your cuteness was clouding his mind His instincts were getting all over the place because of you as he managed to take off your pants and underwear. The scent of the blood was stronger now. He felt the straight black line on his face tingling, his eyebrows furrowed while he tried inhaling through his mouth to keep himself sane.

“Please, don’t,” you pleaded as he was undressing himself using one hand. He was keeping you down with his other hand, no matter how much you struggled you couldn’t budge a tiny bit. This was it. You could only watch in horror as he got undressed and got in between your legs.

Finally pulling down his own pants to release his cock, he let go of you for a brief moment to pull you under him after grabbing you by your calves with both hands. You shrieked in surprise as the friction from the sleeping bag under you lifted your shirt up. It reminded Choso that he still hadn’t freed you from one last article of clothing that was preventing him from seeing your naked body in its all glory.

To your luck, he was happy with just lifting the shirt up and over your chest, the sight of your bare chest was enough and he couldn’t want any longer.

The smell of your blood was already making him dizzy. The blood of the innocent was always hard to find but here you were, laying under him.

He would have felt ashamed for indulging in the pleasure if this was any other time but tonight he was alone. His brothers wouldn’t have to see him lose his composure like this. He could do as he wanted.

You put your tiny hands on his chest to push him away but he was already dragging the tip of his cock between your folds.

A wolf shouldn’t mate with a rabbit. It was common sense. It was wrong. However, as a product between two or more species, Choso was unbothered by the rules of nature.

He shoved the entire length of his cock inside of you with an abrupt thrust of his hips. You screamed, hitting his chest as the pain of your hymen being torn intensified. His girth was too much for your virgin walls, they were being stretched without any preparation but you could feel the slick fluid starting to leak out.

Choso took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

There it was.

The blood of a virgin.

The sweet, almost delicious smell filled his lungs and he tentatively pulled out of you. He gracefully dragged his long fingers along your slit to scoop most of your pure blood and brought his hand up to his face.

His digits were covered in a small trail of blood, it was slowly streaming down from the tip of his fingers towards the base. He took a deep inhale of the blood before parting his lips in admiration. Agonizing slowly he put his fingers in his mouth to taste your blood as you watched in horror.

Humming around his digits and savoring the taste of your innocence, Choso thought he would be satisfied with only getting a taste. His cock swelling bigger proved him wrong.

When he turned his attention back to you, the two of you glanced at each other. You pleaded for him to stop once again but he didn’t waste any more time and surged his hips forward, refusing to leave your slick heat empty.

His cock stretched your tight virgin walls, forcing them to take the very shape of him while you dug your nails into the sleeping bag under you, pulling at the fabric and silently screaming. He was filling you up with no gaps.

He pulled his hips back and snapped them forward with enough force to punch all the air out of your lungs. Then, you realized he was right. His strength could hurt you if he wasn’t careful.

“I-it hurts.”

Unfortunately, he was too lost in the pleasure of tasting the blood of a virgin and his mind was a mess. It was like he was high on a drug, completely intoxicated, unable to think straight. So, he didn’t hear your words. Instead, he grabbed you by your sides and started fucking you frantically almost immediately.

Each thrust had his entire weight behind them, his brute strength and frenzied pace were unbearable for your little mortal body.  

Choso didn’t remember how fragile and delicate humans were compared to curses like him, especially women. He was treating you as if you could handle the immense libido he had. He also failed to notice the way you were losing control over your body; like how you were incapable of closing your mouth as you drooled down your chin. Your legs twitched, toes curled, and back arched.

All because of the ferocity of his thrusts.

The pain of your hymen being torn was now a faint memory, your virgin walls being stroked by something so thick and firm began feeling delightful, erotic.

You stopped gripping the sleeping bag under you and put your hands on his shoulders, grabbing the broad muscles to avoid being rubbed against the sleeping bag no more.

Choso’s hands on your sides slid down to grab you by the supple flesh of your ass. Like this, he could both slam into your pussy and slam you onto his cock to meet his thrusts, resulting in a loud skin-on-skin clapping sound.

A moan escaped your lips as more of your sanity drained out of you.

He leaned down to take your tit in his mouth, sucking on the soft skin before drawing circles around your nipple with his tongue. You tasted as good as your blood, something he hadn’t been expecting. It made him wonder if you tasted the same everywhere.

Wanting to test it out, he left your breast alone and licked his way up to your lips before crashing them onto yours and forcing his tongue inside your already gaped open mouth.

Like he guessed, you tasted, oh, so sweet. He swirled his tongue around yours as he continued moving his hips like an animal in heat.

Surprisingly, you clumsily kissed him back, having lost the lost drop of sanity, you were now completely gone out of your mind.

The kiss turned sloppy, you were gasping and whimpering into the kiss each time he snapped his hips forward at the same time he abruptly slammed you onto his cock to meet him halfway. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head from bliss.

Savoring your luscious taste and indulging in your heavenly warmth, Choso felt like he could go on for hours. He was getting drunk from the intensity of your smell and taste.

However, his cock was already throbbing and your gummy walls were pulsating around his girth, seducing him to cum inside. The least he could do was to give you what you wanted.

Grabbing you harder until his fingers dug into the meat of your ass and planting his knees stably on the tent’s floor, Choso quickened his pace.

Unhinged.

You could feel something bubbling in your stomach as he was moving way too fast inside of you. There was a voice in the back of your mind yelling, shouting, breathlessly telling you to wake up, to push this stranger away but all you did was to pull him closer and wrap your legs around his hips to shamelessly encourage him.

You knew his name, he was no stranger… right?

When his hips started staggering, Choso slammed his hips into yours one last time, burying himself balls deep inside of your cunt. Your not so virgin walls clenched around his pulsating cock, moments later you felt the small twitching of his balls against your skin before thick spurts of cum painted your insides white.

Choso groaned audibly and pulled back from the kiss, simultaneously pulling out of you before his seed could overflow your pussy.

He threw himself next to you on the large sleeping bag and stared at the tent ceiling. The sweet smell of your innocence was still in the air, he inhaled it deeply one more time, treasuring this moment of satisfaction a second longer.

You on the other hand were barely awake and kind of in pain since it felt like he had broken your hips or a rib… or two, maybe three. You would live, he guessed.

Choso left you in your tent and returned to the hideout after a long walk. During his walk, he promised himself to hold back if he smelled another chaste woman again, just like he had many other times in the past.

[theravencawsatmidnight]

A Gift For The Engineer💚

Pt three

Tags. @weird-and-unusual @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard @angeli-fucking-cat @needs-serotonin @iwasjustablur

The noise from the vent was still coming up making you shudder in your raggy clothes. What the hell was down there? And where were you? One minute you were hiking in the woods and the next..-

“SHUT YOUR FUCKING HOLE!!!!” a loud voice from in the vent startled you enough to make you fall out of your chair surprising the Lycan. He sniffed you, nudging your side checking to make sure you were okay and lightly nibbling at your shaking tail.

“Im.. im ok..” you assured the confused Lycan as you moved the hair from his face. “Your.. very nice..”

“Rr..!!” the Lycan scooted closer to lean on you sighing deep as if he was content. He was not a really roughed up Lycan; hsi chest was deep blue grey with some gashes but nothing too bad. Big alert eyes , some teeth missing and ripped pants that looked more like shorts. You pulled the overcoat close around yourself again sighing low. “Where am i …” you asked yourself. The Lycan flopped into your lap and the hat fell off your head. You picked it up looking at it, rubbing out the edges and dirt from it. “I guess.. “ you reached down to scratch the Lycans ear. “Monsters are real?”

“Rr..!!!!!” He hugged your hips, getting comfortable while you scratched behind his ear.

“Do you have a name?” you asked the interesting creature. He did not answer of course, hmm.. “Well.. how about.. Mm.. do you like Arthur? “

The Lycan licked at your stomach moving all around and you chuckled petting his head. “Okay, Arty it is.” you told the happy Lycan.

It was maybe an hour later when Heisenberg returned. The sound of heavy steps getting louder and louder woke you up along with Arty. You had laid down on the floor with the coat over you as a blanket with the hat next to you and Arty curled up on your side asleep. Heisenberg's eyes wandered around the room till they found you. You rubbed your eye sitting up looking up at this man. Arty sneezed himself awake jumping up to his feet in front of you to see Heisenberg, he moved to the side so the man could yank you up.

“Sleepy huh? I'm surprised you could sleep through all that ruckus.” he gestured to the vent. “Now then, your room is ready and ive got a present for ya!” he told you, letting you go to put on his hat and coat. “Cmon, cmon” he turned, moving back to the door making his way out.

“uhm.. Ok..” you pat your thigh getting the Lycans attention. “Cmon Arty”

“Rr!!!!” the happy lycan jumped to your side and Heisenberg looked back with confusion on his face. His brows bunched up in curiosity. “Did you name my Lycan?”

“Yeah.. i .. his names Arthur.. Arty for short..”

Heisenberg cocked his head at this; “did ya now? Well i hope you got more names” he tapped his hammer roughly on the steel bars alerting the many many more lycans all around you. “Cuz ive got a whole lot more!! Hahaha!!!”

“Heh,..” Chisel hurried up behind the humorous man following him up some stairs to a large empty room with one single door in the corner. Heisenberg taped on the reinforced walls with his knuckles. “Nothings getting in here. Except me of course. “ he swung the door open strolling in with his hammer on his shoulder and you behind him with Arty.

It was…. Well it was a room like he said but… it did not have much in it, well. Anything in it for that matter. You wiggled out in front of Heisenberg to walk around the room. It was clean at least but it had nothing in it. ..

“Like it?” he asked, putting his arm around your neck and his other hand on his hip.

“Uh .. well.. Yes but..”

“Hmm??”

“Can it have a window?”

“Haha!! A window!? Were under ground Chisel!! What cha wanna see? The bugs?!”

“N-no i .. okay…” you looked down at your hands seeing something shiny in the corner of the room.

Heisenberg pouted at the answer he got. Awww. fine fine fiiiiiineeeee “let me see what i can do , just for my Chisel, oh and. There's something for you over there” he pointed as he left the room.

Arty had made himself comfortable in a corner curling up just to stretch and roll onto his back then back to his side running in place til he got tired.

Chisel walked over to the corner kneeling down to see a metal collar staring at her. It had the name “Chisel” on it and a interesting crystal hanging off of it. “Is.. is he serious..” you picked it up feeling the goosebumps on your fingers. You managed to put the collar on adjusting it as best you could till you were comfortable. “Heavy.. “ you said to yourself touching some rusted scrap, poking at it. It fell over revealing what looked like coins to you. “Hmm?” you picked up the handful of coins reading them . “lei..?”. Before you could inspect further your neck jerked and your body moved up on its own and you were dragged to the door where Heisenberg was. The collar was sticking out into the air near his raised finger.

“Like it?” He dropped his hand and the collar fell too . you fell into him choking for a minute and he pat your back. “So how about a sun roof hm? Il move things around. And I guess i can look outside for a blanket or something.” he was rubbing your back now, in slow motions.

“Uhm.. okay.. Id.. like that.”

“Seee im not a bag guy eh?” he taunted walking out of the room bringing you with him. “I GUESS i can find clothes. Tsk tsk tsk, already costing me a fortune , Chisel. “

**

You were outside the factory now, Arty was running around with other Lycans and Heisenberg was throwing things in the air while he looked through his scrap and what not. You were wandering the grounds taking in the scenery; a huge factory.. A castle.. Waterfall and a.. Village? This was an interesting place...it has ot be some kind of magic right? Maybe other world? Supernatural..-

“WELL what do we have here?” said a jolly man in the distance.

You jumped looking over to see a carriage by the cliff. “Was that there.. Before?” you hurried over , the collar jingling around your neck . you saw a carriage and a large man sitting in it with a smile on his face.

“Chisel… nice to finally meet you”

“How.. how do you know..”

“I know many things! A Merchant must know his customers. Now then, those clothes look pretty tattered , fancy a look in my shop?”

You blinked trying to put this together, so this.. Uh. “whats your name?”

“You can call me the Duke,feel free to peruse”

The Duke had some clothes that were the perfect fit for you which was strange.. You offered the Duke the Lei you found and he happily exchanged with you. “Thank you for your patronage!”

The clothes you picked out were some boots, pants and a winter coat along with a long sleep shirt. It was nice to be warm… “uh .. thank you..” you came back around a rock to see the carriage gone. Instead you saw a bridge that was… not there before..

“y/n….. y/n….”

“..huh?” you stepped towards the bridge. “who..Wh whos ..”

You saw a figure on the other side of the bridge , they looked blurry and seemed to be waving.. “Cmon y/n… lets go home…..”

“Huh? Wait .. who are you!” you hurried making your way across the bridge , in the distance a laughing doll could be heard in the trees while Heisenberg was searching his grounds. Arty noticed you were not around and started barking.

“Mutt-!!.. Arty!!! SHUT UP-- .. Chisel?” all the metal around him fell and he whipped off his glasses seeing the bridge was up. “Oh shit.”

*

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

15 Oct. Suptober: Blue skies and apple pies

"Aside from cattle wrangler," Dean asked, "what are you?" 

au, modern setting: alternate deancas meet-cute

"Well, pardner, I reckon it's time to ride off into the sunset." Marianne propped her elbow on Castiel's cubical countertop. "You wouldn't wanna hang 'round here like a hair on a biscuit."

Castiel hid a chuckle. "You're a credit to the cowboy way."

"Me? I'm not the one who strolled in here this morning dressed for the rodeo." Marianne had chosen to wear a jersey and shorts and spent the entirety of the office costume contest at lunch throwing a basketball at their coworkers' heads.

"Yes, well." Castiel didn't have any good excuse for having spent actual money on a western themed ensemble, complete with hat and boots, bolo and belt buckle, other than that blending in with the corporate culture seemed useful if he was going to be amongst humans for forty hours a week.

Technically, he'd been amongst them for thousands of years, but only in the last two years had he needed to make rent money.

His costume wasn't uncomfortable, or at least not more so than his regular wardrobe, so it was only his footgear he changed at the park, swapping out the cowboy boots for his usual hiking boots. (He left on the hat because it was the time of year when spiders were stretching webs across every available space.) He was on the shortest of the trails within minutes of leaving work, and looking up through the canopy of oaks and beechnut he could finally take a deep breath. Blue skies up there, as clear as emerald-cut topaz. The woods smelled like dried leaves and mushroom mustiness. A jay was squawking as it dove to chase off a starling; gray squirrels raced back and forth across the underbrush, ferrying around walnuts and acorns for their winter stockpile.

It was less lonely, in the trees.

Castiel walked the first trail while stopping to pick his own pantry staples and place them in the sturdy softback cooler he carried: several cups' worth of tart crabapples for jam; two handfuls of pecans almost as big and green as key limes; spicebush berries to add to an apple pie recipe he'd found that sounded promising. 

He didn't like most foods and had no real use for them; he'd learned to like apples. It felt fitting, for an angel -- quince were more Biblically accurate, yet harder to come by locally.

The sun wouldn't set for another hour. He crossed over the playground by the largest picnic shelter and set to climbing the first rooty hill of the park's longer trail. Deep within the trees he could hear kids' cheerful screams down on the swingsets and someone's dog alerting everyone to the persistent terror of chipmunks. 

Another hiker was somewhere behind him. Being followed, even accidentally -- as surely it was, since no-one knew or cared he was there -- made him anxious, and he sped up. The trail, damp from recent rain, ran unevenly along the stream that fed the creek that meandered along the edge of the park. He didn't need to be careful of slipping. 

He could not, he thought, fall any further than he already had.

The season's last jewelweed, in bright dappled orange and corn yellow colors, had captured his attention near a bend in the stream, when he heard an extremely loud curse word ring out.

That single swear was followed by more of the same, only in a quieter and more desperate tone.

The string of expletives -- "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckmotherfuck" -- led him back to a higher part of the trail above the stream bed. At first, Castiel didn't see the man clinging to the embankment that had given way: he saw the blood blooming in the murky water below.

Castiel's true form had not knocked against the barrier of his human vessel in many, many years. The human whose face he wore had been gone nearly as long, and he'd thought himself acclimated to this diminutiveness. He concentrated fiercely to make his senses fan out and show him the man's leg, the jagged femur speared through skin and shining with blood, the man's ghostly pallor, sweat shining at his throat as his body slipped into shock. Castiel's strong, enormous wings unfurled without his even having to think about it, and in an instant he was gathering the man up from the muddy crags as gingerly as he could.

When he had carried the man up to the path -- a blink of an eye stretched to infinity -- and laid him down, Castiel cradled the man's head in his palms, touched his forehead to his and prayed healing fire into the broken body he held. He could feel the huge bone being reknit and set right, skin closing; new blood welled up fast and clean in the stitched artery. He could feel the man's memories like leaves drifting downward in amber, emerald, and ochre hues, except… Also pain. Also violence and fear. Grief. He could feel the man's soul, its impossible density and depth of kindness; bruises, bites, cuts, strength born from loss; love that filled it to brimming over, spilling through Castiel's fingers like silken ribbons.

It felt, Castiel thought, the way a sunset appeared at an ocean's horizon, molten copper and gold flowing ever outward over unceasing waves. He had never held anything as addictively pure, and it was nothing but agony to release the soul back into the man's singular possession.

The man gasped and promptly passed out.

While the man was unconscious, Castiel whisked away the blood, dirt, and sweat coating him and his clothing and did the same for himself. Then he staggered backwards, his wings pulled back to the angelic plane, his awkward human limbs wobbly and weakened. He caught the trunk of a young nearby elm and sat on a mossy patch, panting.

There was a duffel bag spilt open several feet away. The man's, he guessed, and forced himself to drag it over and rummage through it. He found a smartphone and had just enough mojo left to override its requirement for a passcode. The one number the man seemed to call repeatedly was for someone named Sammy.

"What's up, Dean?" the voice answered.

"Hello," Castiel said, trying to sound sane, calm, and as though he wasn't about to lose consciousness. "Dean has been injured."

"Who is this?" the voice demanded. "Where the hell--"

"He slipped, but he'll be fine. Are you Sammy? We're at Silver Park, just off of Flint Street. Do you know it?”

The voice hesitated. "Let me talk to my brother. Now."

A voice that brokered no argument. An icy, dangerous voice.

Castiel squared his shoulders like someone was evaluating his performance. He was no longer at risk of fainting. "Your brother is fine and will be waiting down by the Stuart Lodge."

"I'll be there in thirty. If you've hurt him, so help me--"

Castiel punched the disconnect button, then turned off the phone and tossed it back in the duffel.

The man's hands stirred, scratching lightly at the dirt path.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said. He crawled to his side and touched his shoulder.

As Dean's eyes fluttered open, Castiel realized he'd seen him before at the park. Multiple times, even. Seen him in the distance, ahead or behind him on trails, or sitting at the one of the picnic tables or on the hood of a large black car. A handsome man, always dressed like he might decide to camp out in the woods for a week. A man who smiled at children and gave french fries to squirrels and sometimes tapped his feet to music playing through the car's windows. 

A man who'd waved at Castiel from across the grassy knolls or trail meadows once or twice, like their both being at the park often meant they knew each other, something shy in the way he held up his hand though Castiel would've wagered he was rarely socially nervous otherwise.

Dean's irises were as green as sea glass, his eyes framed with dark lashes. Castiel could sense him taking a deliberate pause between focusing on him and speaking.

"Howdy," Dean said finally. He did not look away when he smiled small and private, like he trusted Castiel would get the joke.

It was probably one of the only ones Castiel would've gotten, in truth. With relief he said, "Your brother will be here shortly."

"Who are you?" Dean asked, starting to sit up with a bitten-off groan. 

"My name is Castiel." He let Dean grip his forearm for leverage. "How are you feeling?"

Dean looked at him and Castiel realized they were crowded together most closely. "Pretty okay for someone who was about to bleed to death in the world's dumbest accident." His gaze kept drifting all over Castiel's face, like he was trying to memorize it.

Castiel tried not to blush, and maybe didn't succeed. "People can get hurt doing the simplest things."

Humans were hideously breakable, he'd learned. Fragile as thinnest china sometimes.

Dean kept staring. And staring.

"Aside from cattle wrangler," he asked, "what are you?" 

Castiel went still. 

Dean waited.

"You're a hunter," Castiel said. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah."

Castiel spoke as plainly as he could. "I'm an angel." 

He could almost see the thoughts flying through Dean's mind like shrapnel.

"Didn't think," Dean said, "there was any such thing."

Castiel raised his chin. "There is."

He could've compelled belief; it was better that Dean seemed to come to it on his own.

Dean's eyes softened. He had fifty-seven freckles across the tops of his cheeks and bridge of his nose. Castiel was flooded with gratitude that there was still light enough under the canopy to see such freckles by.

Neither of them spoke for a minute, caught up in the stare Castiel didn't know how to break free of. A flush had crept its away across Dean's face and down his throat. Castiel had to curl his hand to keep from tracing the heat of it with his fingertips.

"Guess I should mosey on outta here," Dean drawled, that smile playing on his mouth.

"I'm not usually dressed like this," Castiel blurted.

Dean's smile grew wider. "Yeah, I know." He looked away, shaking his head, and looked back, something inexplicably fond in his eyes. "Help me up?"

"Oh. Of course." Castiel stood first, legs thankfully less shaky, and grabbed up Dean's hands. 

Dean stood and steadied himself but didn't, Castiel noted, let go.

"All right?" Castiel asked.

"It's getting darker, right? I'm not going blind?"

"Nighttime is real." Castiel gently, if reluctantly, pulled his hands out of Dean's. "Wanna follow me down to the lodge?"

Dean nodded. "That isn't my bag." He pointed at the cooler Castiel had thrown off between a splintery log and a stand of wild phlox before going over the edge to rescue him.

"Yes, that one is mine. Thanks." Castiel picked up his belongings.

Dean fetched his duffel.

They stood looking at each other for another moment. Castiel surrendered first, beginning the backtrack to the start of the trail. He'd gone no more than five or six steps before looking back.

The trail wasn't less damp or root-tricky than it had been. He held out his hand.

Dean took it and held on until they'd picked their way all the way back down.

The park would close in less than an hour. Castiel's hand felt very empty again as he walked beside Dean towards the lodge and the pickup truck parked by its rental info sign.

A tall man sprang out from the driver's side. 

"I'm fine, Sam," Dean said before his brother could say a word.

"What the hell, man, you scared me to death." Sam took the duffel away from Dean and tossed it in the truck. "Mushroom hunting, my ass."

"I'm drivin' out of here, dude. Give me back my bag."

Sam glared at Dean. "We're gonna crash at the motel -- I'm driving us there -- and we'll come back for Baby in the morning."

Dean glared back. "If she gets towed--"

"Shut up," Sam said. He turned to Castiel and did a double-take at Castiel's hat. With some effort, he said, "Thank you for calling."

The flipped-on politeness would've thrown Castiel if it hadn't seemed so sincere.

"It was no trouble." Castiel shifted his cooler to his other shoulder. To Dean he said, "Many of the mushrooms that grow in this park are poisonous. Or at least, there would be unpleasant side effects if you chose to ingest them."

Dean gave him a long look. "Good to know."

"Well," Castiel said. He didn't have any other reason to linger. His chest ached, probably from the earlier exertions. "It was nice to meet you, Dean. Hope you have a restful evening."

He started walking towards his own car well on the other side of the jungle gym. The achy feeling increased alongside a sharp cold breeze that had been kicked up by the dwindling daylight.

"Cas. Hey, Cas!"

It took him a second to realize the name being called was a truncation of his own. 

By the time he'd turned around Dean was bounding up to him, the absolute picture of health.

Castiel's powers hadn't completely left him; he allowed it to be a comfort.

"Wanted to see what you were doing tomorrow." Dean spoke like they were old pals, like they routinely met at the park and hiked through the trees together, foraging foodstuffs and talking friendly. "If you'll be in town." His bravado faltered a little and he watched his feet scuffing the parking lot pavement.

"I was going to bake an apple pie," Castiel said, as easily as anything, his stomach lifting as Dean's head rose and his eyes snapped to Castiel's. "Except, I've never made one before."

"I've made one or two," Dean said, stepping nearer.

"Any tips?" Castiel cleared his throat. "Or would you be willing to--" 

"Yes," Dean said, quick as anything. 

"You don't owe me--"

"Yeah, no, I know." He bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of times. "But you should know I make excellent apple pie. And I would be happy to help."

"Give him your fucking number already," Sam called from the truck.

"You can just pray to me," Castiel said without thinking that through. 

Dean gaped at him. "I…will do that," he said slowly. "Tomorrow afternoon?"

Castiel resisted the urge to rub at his own blushing. "That will be fine." 

Dean smiled their private smile again. "Good night, Cas."

Castiel let himself smile back, let himself hope. "Good night, Dean."

[mrs-hyperfixed-writes]

Are You Single? - Part 1

Was originally gonna release it all at once but it was taking way too long and what I had so far was already kinda long. This sort of sets the scene.

Written for: @becomeunsolved

After getting lost in the woods and ending up in a mysterious isolated village, you get captured by Heisenberg and develop a crush, stopping at nothing to get to him.

You imagined that going through the village had been the closest to hell on earth you would ever get. It had been an honest mistake ending up here. Just a simple case of following the wrong fork in the trail. And then night had fallen, the light filtering through the canopy of leaves becoming scarcer and scarcer as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, abandoning you in a dark forest devoid of noise, the only company being the sound of the snow crunching underneath your hiking boots and the weight of your backpack. You had kept a level head, trying to backtrack but being unable to find the original path you had been set on, and at this point you were sure that you had accidentally brought yourself deeper into the forest. You had decided that the next time you wanted to get away from your shitty job, your shitty flat, and the shitty people you surrounded yourself with you were going to go to Disneyland or something, not go on a soul searching hiking trip in Romania in the middle of winter.

Things began to make noises in the woods, but you refused to stop. Refused to acknowledge them. You wouldn’t be able to see through the dense darkness between the trees with your measly flashlight anyway. And if you stopped, then whatever was prowling the forest might know you were aware of it and take the opportunity to jump at you. So you kept going, hoping that whatever was breaking twigs and making those quiet panting noises didn’t decide that you looked too delicious to ignore any longer. You weren’t afraid of them, not really. It was something else that spurred you on.

Then you had found the village, the enormous castle that overlooked it taking your breath away. For a moment, relief had flooded your system.

It didn’t last long.

***

You fell to your knees in front of the gate to Castle Dimitrescu, exhaustion cutting through to your very bones. In your left hand you held a woodcutter’s axe in a deathgrip. It had been the only thing you had to defend yourself with up until that old man had given you a handgun before he had been dragged away. His blood had spilled from the hole he had created, landing in your hair and drying into a crust. Luckily for you, you had found an old shotgun discarded on a kitchen table in your attempts to escape the horde that had threatened to overwhelm you. It sat in your backpack, the end of it sticking out. You thanked god for deep pockets on hiking trousers. Convenient ammo pouches.

Your jacket was long gone, the monsters that had prowled the village ripping it to shreds in their efforts to get to you. The rest of your clothes were saturated with black blood, your hoodie had become uncomfortably heavy with it, forcing you to take it off and shove it at the bottom of your backpack - which itself was sporting a broken strap. You cleared your throat, spitting a wad of your own blood onto the floor.

A monster had dragged you down below the house, had thrown you out through the wall. You had dropped your axe but had managed to maintain a grip on your gun, and when it had charged at you, you had unloaded four badly aimed shots into its chest and scrambled for your weapon. And when it had charged again you had swung, pouring all your frustration and rage into that swing. You had been through hell already, and for what? Was this punishment for getting lost? Was this punishment for trying to get some peace away from your shitty life? Was this a punishment for those desires that you had buried, that need to be violent and terrifying that you had repressed? You’d spent your entire life shoving that shit down and trying to be a good person. You valued human life, but sometimes you couldn’t help but think some people would look better if they were missing some teeth. Maybe an eye for good measure.

You had turned its head into a pulpy mess even when it had been long dead. Then you had told it to get fucked. And when another one had emerged from the hole you had left in the house, you had bared your teeth at it in a sort of feral smile and waited for it to come. It had circled around you, feeling you out. It looked like it was unused to the resistance. It was unused to a lack of fear.

You had prepared to swing your axe, and addressed it directly, “Dance with me then.”

It had lunged.

And then there had been Luiza’s house. That hadn’t gone very well, the screams of all the people inside still bouncing around your head as Elena’s father had changed. You had understood at that moment that the monsters roaming around had once been people. It had made your skin crawl, and had forced you to fight with even more ferocity when the knowledge that if they got too close to you then they could turn you into one of those horrible beasts with just a scratch. Your jacket had acted as an extra layer of protection, but now it was gone.

You took a deep breath from your position on your knees, hand tightening around the axe. Part of you was horrified with yourself. Horrified that you had given into that need for violence that you had shoved down for most of your life, that you could laugh and smile and indulge in the cruelty of cackling and cursing at the carnage you could wreak on something, even if the victim was a flesh eating werewolf. The rest of you just wanted to survive, knowing that that feral glee that you were trying to keep shoved deep down was probably keeping you alive.

You had no idea what was waiting for you in this castle, but everyone in the village was dead, you had witnessed the last surviving members go up in flames. You couldn’t go back into the forest either, not with all the monsters prowling about. And even if there weren’t any, you might just die of exposure anyway.

So you took a deep breath, reaching for the lever that would bring the gate up.

A steel rod shot in front of your face, embedding itself in the wall to your right. You curled your hand into a tight fist as you stared at that rod. Apparently there really was no rest for the wicked.

“Well, well, well. I didn’t think anyone was left.” A man’s voice.

“Oh for- just give me a break already,” you muttered under your breath.

You turned to look at him, part of you worried that he would be some sort of horrible monster, ready to claw at your skin and chew on your bones as he spoke to you in that accent that you couldn’t quite place. But as you set your eyes on him, your breath caught in your throat.

“Oh. Fuck me,” you whispered under your breath,not caring if he heard or not.

Apparently Red Dead Redemption had completely fucked you up, since now your type was middle aged cowboys that looked like they smelled of cigars and oil. Bits of scrap metal floated all around him. Six hours ago if someone had told you that a man dressed as a cowboy holding a giant hammer had a form of telekinesis that could apparently only affect metal you would have laughed at them and asked them if you could have some of whatever they were drinking. But you had seen plenty of strange things already, and the rod embedded in the wall behind you was giving you a warning that whatever the nature of his powers were, they were nothing to scoff at. They were dangerous. He was dangerous. The thought made something coil in your gut. But not in fear.

You wanted to smack yourself. Now was not the time for an infatuation.

But looking at him, you just couldn’t seem to help yourself. He was tall, and carried himself with a confidence that must have taken a lifetime to master. He carried a giant metal hammer on his shoulder that you knew weighed at least a ton. And the way he carried it so effortlessly made the coiled heat in your stomach spread out across your body.

Why couldn’t you have just been attracted to normal men? Why couldn’t you have been attracted to traits that wouldn’t have put you in an early grave?

You took your backpack off and shoved it blade down next to your shotgun, zipping the bag shut as far as it would go. If it came to a fight, there was no way a weapon with a metal blade would help you. You almost laughed aloud. If it came to a fight between the two of you, only god himself intervening would help you.

“Who the fuck are you?” You weren’t subtle in the way your eyes roved up and down his body.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh. You’re not local? Even better.”

He grinned, and flicked his hand.

The rod that he had thrown came out of the wall and wrapped itself around your neck. Your hands instinctively came up, trying to pry it off. He laughed at your attempts, and another flick of his hand had you being dragged down to the floor neck first before he sent the rest of the scrap metal that had been floating idly to cocoon you.

“Mother Miranda’s gonna love you.”

He laughed, and you cursed at yourself for finding that laugh so attractive as he towered over you. As that last sheet covered your face, you let yourself go, slipping into a deep sleep.

***

Your back hurt. Your wrists hurt. Your head hurt. Everything hurt. But the silver lining on the situation was that you weren’t trapped in a metal cocoon any longer. Instead you were lying on a stone floor, wrists handcuffed together. A discreet tug while you pretended to still be asleep revealed that they were attached to a short chain that was connected to a loop on the floor. Regardless of how strong you were, in your current condition there was no way you could even make an attempt to get yourself free. Even if there weren’t people in the room.

You could hear their voices in the background, and it was a struggle to sort your thoughts so that you could tune into their voices. It had to be about you, and you needed to know what they planned to do with you.

There was no fear, it would only make you panic. Instead there was just determination, a need to survive even if there wasn’t much in your life worth it. Spite maybe? You weren’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of dying alone in a village full of corpses.

“The mortal is of no real use to anyone else. And my daughters do so love. . . entertaining foreigners.”

Red flag. Hearing that in any other scenario would have been a pleasant thing, but given the context of the situation and everything you had been through so far, you were sure that whatever the woman meant by that could not be a good thing. And if those daughters were still alive when the rest of the village had been subjected to either vicious deaths or being slowly and painfully turned into a creature that you were very sure could be considered werewolves.

“Furthermore, I can assure you if you entrust the mortal to House Dimitrescu, my daughters and I shall deliver to you the finest cups of their slaughtered blood.”

Yup, entertaining those daughters was definitely not a good thing.

You pried your eyes open, almost wishing you hadn’t when you saw the creepiest doll in the world standing in front of you. She was about three feet tall and wearing a wedding dress that was admittedly well-crafted. You almost twisted to kick it out of reflex, especially as it started moving like it was alive. A hunchback came in from the side to crowd your personal space, and you gagged against the strong smell of fish. You had smelled actual dead fish that were not as fishy. What did this man do all day?

The doll roughly pushed him out of the way, complaining in a high pitched voice, “Out of the way ugly! I wanna see- oh!”

“You mean-” The man who had captured you started, being interrupted by the doll’s excited dancing and announcement that you had woken as well as the hunchback’s general groaning.

To your left you spied your backpack, just out of reach. “Y-you mean,” he tried again. “Both of you shut the fuck up!”

Well that did it. The doll went to sit in the lap of what could only be her puppeteer, a woman in funeral garb, the only skin exposed being her pale hands. The hunchback shambled off to the side, standing behind the pew where the only human passing man in the entire village sat.

“You mean you’ll screw around with them in private, and where’s the fun in that?”

You looked around, taking note of the woman who had been speaking. Dimitrescu. You could practically feel your nosebleed coming on. She was the tallest woman you had ever seen, and the most beautiful too. Her skin was so pale, her lips a deep red. She looked like a vampire, but given what you had seen so far and her talk of delivering your blood to the other woman in cups was making you think that maybe she didn’t just look like one.

Her name was ringing bells in your head. Dimitrescu. Where had you heard that before?

“Give them to me,“ the man started again, “and I’ll put on a show everyone can enjoy.”

Why me? This was definitely punishment for something.

“So gauche-”

“Hey I know you!” you interjected, addressing the tall woman and interrupting her as the realisation hit you.

They all stopped, turning to face you properly for the first time. Dimitrescu looked you up and down, seemingly regarding you as something beneath her. You quickly came to the conclusion that maybe interrupting her was a mistake, but you didn’t care. There was still no fear, even in the face of a giantess.

“Dimitrescu. That’s the name on that super rare wine in the really pretty bottle. They don’t distribute it anymore.”

She continued to look down at you, which admittedly was easy for her to do given height. “And how would the likes of you have tasted the Sanguinis Virginis?”

“Some rich guy I met at a bar gave it to me in exchange for. . . It doesn’t matter. But. . . it stands for Maiden’s Blood right?” You froze, the dots practically connecting themselves. “Oh my god. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

You leaned over to the side, ready to vomit. You knew there was something wrong with that wine. Your mood was not helped by the shrieking laughter that the doll was emitting at your expense. The man, to his credit, had the decency to wrinkle his nose in disgust at the prospect of blood filled wine. You had drank someones blood. Who had she been? Had they tortured her? Had she died in agony? You didn’t know. You didn’t really want to know.

You looked back up towards the altar. The woman standing at it had looked as familiar as Dimitrescu’s name had sounded. You had seen her portrait in many of the homes. And thinking back, it had definitely been her that had killed that villager when Luiza’s house had burned down. Your heart tugged painfully at the thought of Elena, at how you had come so close to saving her before the floor had collapsed under her and she had told you to escape this village and run.

This woman was Mother Miranda, and somehow she was the cause of all of this. Still no fear, but hatred bubbled up in your heart.

“I’ve heard all of your arguments. Some of you were less persuasive than others, but. . .” She looked at the man, who had now put his hammer on the ground, leaning forward as he waited for her answer, “Heisenberg, the mortal’s fate is in your hands.”

He tipped his hat towards her, grinning.

Dimitrescu got to her feet.

“Mother Miranda I must protest! Heisenberg is but a child, and his devotion to you is questionable.” She started walking towards you. “Give the mortal to me, and I will ensure that they are ready.”

Heisenberg angrily got to his feet, stalking towards her. You had to hand it to him, even with his telekinesis, he must have been fearless to confront Dimitrescu when he was half her size.

He held out his hand as he approached her, summoning the hammer to him. You were beginning to think that something was wrong with you, given that the action had your gut coiling again.

“Shut your damn hole and don’t be a sore loser! Go find your food somewhere else.”

“Quiet now child-”

“Well if it were up to me-” you started.

“It isn’t!” Both of them shouted down at you in unison, though Dimitrescu put significantly more venom into it.

“Well please spare me the family drama when I get enough of that at home.”

Heisenberg actually laughed at that, some of the tension leaving him. Dimitrescu however, looked incensed.

“How dare you! Do you have any idea-”

“If you’re going to ask me if I know who you are, we already established that I did. I just don’t care. And I’m not afraid of a single one of you!”

Heisenberg let out a full belly laugh at that. At which part of the statement he found to be hilarious, you weren’t sure. At least someone had found you funny, and you never wanted that laugh of his to stop. You could listen to it all day.

“SILENCE!” Mother Miranda shouted over them, intervening before someone - probably you - got hurt. “My decision is final, there will be no argument. Remember from whence you came!”

“A megabitch apparently,” you muttered under your breath.

One look at Heisenberg told you that he definitely heard that too. And as he smiled at the statement, you knew in your bones that Dimitrescu was right. His loyalty to Mother Miranda wasn’t just questionable, he hated her. You could feel it. Why though, was anyone’s guess. Though to be fair, she didn’t exactly scream motherly love.

Briefly, you wondered why someone with his abilities didn’t just finish her off and get it over with. But her words, reminding them to remember where they came from. . . she must have been very powerful if she could scold a nine foot tall vampire queen and a cowboy with the powers of Magneto into submission.

Dimitrescu moved back, but Heisenberg moved forward to take up all your attention. Those horrible monsters swarmed in as he did so, clinging to the walls, the scaffolding and leaning over the balconies, snarling and howling as he did so.

“Lycans and Gentleman, we thank you for waiting.”

I fucking knew they were werewolves.

“And now let the games begin!” He leaned down towards you, coming in at eye level. “Lets see what you’re really made of.”

You just smiled at him, deciding to let that beast under your skin that was making heat coil in your gut out to play. “I don’t suppose you’re single.”

His grin dropped off his face, and something like genuine surprise flitted across it. But instead of answering he raised his hammer above his head.

“Oh shit-”

He swung it down, cracking the loop that was keeping you chained to the floor. Lycans were beginning to crowd in. And Heisenberg, he was beginning to countdown from ten. You looked to your left again, spotting the hole in the floor just beyond your bag. You darted towards it, picking up your bag as you did so and turning to the lords one last time. You brought your hands to your face and kissed your palm, blowing it towards Heisenberg. He stuttered in his countdown, just enough to be barely noticeable. You wondered if it was in confusion or if it was because maybe, just maybe, you had flustered him ever so slightly. You vowed that you would make it out alive and find out.

Then you stuck up your two middle fingers, and jumped down the hole.

[keltonwrites]

Where no one knows your name

How many times is a person meant to make new friends? When I moved into an apartment in DC with an absolutely iconic girl from Craigslist, I wrote in my journal, “you never know when you’ll meet your next bridesmaid.” Charmingly juvenile, as I was 24 years old. Ironic, as I never had any bridesmaids. And embarrassing, knowing I wrote something that’s surely been embroidered on a bachelorette party t-shirt by now. My point was: you can meet people you fall in love with anywhere, anytime, assuming your heart (and calendar) are open. Now my heart and calendar are open and I am one of Elizabeth Bennet’s sad sisters, cloying and desperate for attention while everyone at the ball ignores me. Meeting people here is unnerving and hapless and eye-clawingly vulnerable. My first new friend told me she was moving away in a few months. Do you invest deeply in hopes of another faraway friendship? Do you just go back to waving as you pass on the street? I like this girl! What an embarrassing thing to have to say to someone! Do you just invite people to every and anything like a lunatic? I can’t even remember to call the people I am forever-and-ever in cahoots with. I’m also deeply bound by what I’ll call the Movie Trap: say it’s 3pm during not-a-pandemic, and you get the urge to see a movie. You look at the showings, and there’s one you really want to see at 7:15. You think to yourself, “I should make an effort,” and you text a friend. “Hey, you wanna go see This Cool Movie at 7:15 tonight?” No one ever says yes. Don’t give me an example of when someone has, because it’s always one of these answers:

“Oooh, I’m actually seeing it with Kate tomorrow - wanna come?”

“Can we go to the 9pm showing? Stuck at work.”

“Yeah but let’s see Movie You’ll Fucking Hate instead.”

Now maybe I’m just lighting flares guiding you to the worst parts of my personality, but this drives me nuts. No, Liz, I don’t want to go tomorrow. I want to go tonight. At 7:15. So I can be in bed by 10. And you’d have to drag my dead body and prop open my eyes to get me to see something like Marriage Story in theaters. The Movie Trap is a big reason I usually hang out by myself, or I make plans weeks in advance. (Don't I sound like a blast.) Just the idea of being like, “I like you! Wanna hang out in October?” makes me want to collapse into a puddle of sad adulthood. Which is why on Friday at 4:30pm, when a girl I’d met a week prior asked if I wanted to grab a drink, I just said yes. I put on a pretty dress, did my makeup, put stuff in a purse, and drove the 25 minutes to town. It was really fun! And how novel to have new contacts in my phone like “Maggie blue house” and “Jess concert friend” — a throwback to the days of “Greg guy on L train” and “Devon ad party.” The very concept of not knowing someone’s last name or even needing it, and a year from now updating their contact info and smiling at your origin story. But for the most part, no one is in our phones. In terms of phone numbers collected, here is the list:

Two friends we knew prior who thank god you guys exist.

New friend who is moving away.

New friend who is game to drink tequila and ride mountain bikes.

Neighbor-not-yet-friend who I really fucking like and am not sure how to cross hang-out threshold with.

​Not to say there aren’t any other prospects or people I’m platonically gaga over, but I don’t have their phone numbers. There are honestly a lot of people like this because when you live in a small town (and you’re from the Midwest) you say “oop, sorry” to every person/object you bump into, and you say “hi :)” to every person you see. These are the rules. If I drive by you and don’t wave, it’s because I was so deep in a daydream I probably shouldn’t have been driving in the first place. This isn’t acceptable, because in our urgency to tattoo our vaccination status on our foreheads so we can make friends, it turns out just driving by someone can be a viable strategy. A few days ago, a man was driving by our kitchen window and then our driveway, and then he reversed back up to the kitchen window and started waving. Ben went outside — it was that kind of wave. The man had seen from his car a smokejumper emblem on the back of a truck in our driveway. “Hey, are you a smokejumper?” We aren’t. But my dad was, and he was in town visiting, accompanied by the emblem on the back of his truck. The guy said we should drink sometime. Numbers were not exchanged. We’ll call that a node, because it’s not quite a connection. And it’s mainly nodes, waiting to be connected, to have relevance. But first, no matter who you’re trying to befriend, you have to answer everyone else’s Do I Care Quiz. The quiz is employed by 93% of locals to determine how they feel about you existing within their personal 50-mile radius. The first question is non negotiable:

1) Are you visiting?

Variations on this question include “how long are you in town?” or “what brings y’all to town?” or my least favorite and most insulting, “did you just finish Jeeping?” I know I have blonde hair and say y’all, but how dare you. (Also, to be clear, you can own a Jeep, customize your Jeep, mod out your Jeep, and love your Jeep, but you’re not Jeeping until you drive too fast through a tiny town so you can hurl your Jeep over a mountain pass without ever getting out of it.) So the answer to “are you visiting” is “no, I live here.” Which brings us to the next question, my favorite for how loaded the gun, kneeling in the grass, scope on, target locked it is.

2) Are you part-time or full-time?

The first time I answered this question, I didn’t realize it was essentially like asking how someone voted in the 2020 election. The judgment was cocked and ready and the palpable relief/joy/or at the very least, tolerance, exuded by answering “full-time” was like when the sun comes out from behind the clouds on a 40 degree day. I was fine, but wow that does feel better. The third question though does not have a standard hoped-for answer. This is where nodes turn to connections turn to phone numbers.

3) What brings you here?

It seems like the best possible answer would be saying you work in town, and you’re going to begin construction on displaced-worker housing to ensure the people who run this town can actually live in it. We’d have everyone’s phone number. Saying you’re a writer who works remotely and bought a house from a legendary and beloved local who could no longer afford it is really something you keep to yourself. But in the interest of making friends, I just word vomit my entire history. We might as well find out at the onset if I make your eyes roll back into your skull. Not at all threatening that all it takes is a single social signal misinterpreted to be the absolute death knell of my ability to make friends in a town of some 1400 adults. In fact, I’ll share one such interaction. I was hiking with Cooper, about 5 miles by foot away from my house. I was on a trail, crossing a sloped meadow, and a group was traversing up the hillside to the trail. I said hi, where y’all coming from. One girl answered and we talked about the trail. She eyed me up and down. “Did you just move here?” “I did!” “I served your family last week,” she said. “Oh,” that phrasing. “Must have been my in-laws.” “Heard you bought Jack’s house. Such a bummer when locals like that are forced out.” “We didn’t even know about his house,” I said. “We were looking at another house and he asked his realtor if he could get us to come see his house. We just loved it, and him!” She had no emotional reaction to this. “You moved from California?” she asked. (Dangerous question.) “Yeah, got these sea level lungs, haha,” attempting to disarm with humor was a failure, “but couldn’t be happier to be out of California.” “It’s not like this all year. Winter’s really hard here, you’re in for a rude awakening.” “Well California’s the last place I lived, but I’m not from there. I’ve lived in brutal winters. At least Colorado gets sun!” I laugh with cloaked loathing. “It’s different when you live at altitude,” she said, like no human aside from her had ever been literally anywhere. “Are you trying to go around?” She indicated the path behind her. “No, y’all go ahead, just gonna wait to give you your space. I’m sure you’re faster than me.” “K, good luck making it to the lake." Maybe she was thirsty. Maybe she was hungover. Maybe she just has vicious delivery, but it felt like every blade of grass was leaning against the wind to listen. She was with four other people and not one of them said a word. I left that interaction not wanting to see another human ever again. But that interaction, and her intimate knowledge of exactly which house I lived in, made me want to decorate like we lived in a gingerbread house, all candy canes and plum drops, screaming to any passerby that we’re friendly. One of the mayor’s first questions to me was “what are you going to do to the house?” There are rules here about what your house can look like, and I kept emphasizing we bought the house because we loved it, not because we wanted to change everything about it. And now, instead of wanting to decorate the interior, I want to put up shades so we don’t contribute to light pollution, I want to hang a sign by the water spigot saying “grab some if you need” for hikers and mountain bikers, I want to paint a sign for the wild mint by our door that says, “I mint to tell you to take some,” because our neighbors were openly panicked they wouldn’t be able to just grab mint from the cabin’s garden anymore. Without question, COVID makes things harder. Dinner parties feel like dares. Dropping cookies off at someone’s house feels invasive. Grabbing a drink feels like the ultimate sign of trust. But at least we have nodes who can connect who can think to invite us and who can see that despite having lived in California, we’re not all that bad. In the meantime, I’ll be painting signs about water and mint, hoping to garner the benefit of the doubt from the so beautifully, earnestly, and waiting-to-see-if-you’re-worth-it doubtful.

Subscribe to the newsletter at tinyletter.com/keltonwrites — high altitude relocation and renovation in a tiny mountain town.

[silkling]

Hi Silkling, could you please write a TFP story where Sierra discovers the Autobot's secret and joins up with Team Prime? TFP never really did much with her, and I think that a shame. I think Smokescreen would make a good partner for her.

Absolutely! Great to see you again in my ask box! :D your last prompt was super fun to write to, so I’m looking forward to this one! Now, I admit, I never paid much attention to Sierra, and the show didn’t give us a lot to work with, so I’m going to have to come up with some of her characterization. And I agree. So I’m mashing her with Smokescreen. It’s gonna a be great. I love Smokescreen very much! I even have a whole AU of my own for him. He’s a tiny happy dumbass and since Sierra has basically no canon personality, I can make her be his long-suffering but still very fond best friend.

———————————————————————————————————

Sierra had been having a good day. Emphasis on the word had. It was the weekend. She had packed a small picnic, grabbed her favorite book, and hopped on her bike. She’d ridden out to the popular hiking trails, intending to take a short hike and finding a nice place to spend the afternoon with a her novel and her snacks. The sun was out, the weather was great, and she had nothing to do today. It was perfect. So, of course, the laws of the universe demanded that something go wrong.

‘Murphy is a cruel bastard and and I’m going to punch him in the face when I see him in the afterlife.’ She thought viciously, staring up at the hulking titan that had just crushed her lunch and bike under a single massive metal foot with a sense of numb disbelief. ‘At least I still have the book.’ She ignored how the thought echoed with a note of hysteria as she shoved said book into the messenger bag over her shoulder.

“Are you Sierra O’Niell?”

She was only slightly surprised when the massive robot spoke. Because why wouldn’t the giant robot that had just moments ago been a jet be able to speak? Honestly, what even was her life at this point. She was more concerned with the fact that the thing knew her name. Her initial instinct was the demand how it knew her name. But she’d seen the movies. She knew that would only confirm it’s suspicions.

“Who?” she forced herself to ask instead, surprising herself with how steady her voice was. It was the shock, she told herself. It had to be. It was making her emotionally numb. “What are you?”

The robot seemed startled, before it snarled something that was most definitely a curse. It started speaking, though not to her, and it took Sierra a moment to realize it must have been talking over some sort of built in communication system. “-wrong human, Soundwave! This pathetic fleshling you pointed out to me doesn’t even know who I am talking about.” It paused. “What do you mean it’s not the wrong human? I just told you-“ it cut itself off. “Ah. I see.” A sinister grin twisted at metallic features. “Thank you, Soundwave. I will return with my prize shortly.”

Oh, Sierra did not like the sound of that.

Sure enough, the robot turned to face her when it was done. “It seems you lied to me, little fleshling.” it sneered. “My associate tracked the signal of your personal communications device. You humans never go without it, I’ve been told.”

She blinked. “You hacked my phone?” she sputtered, and oops, she’d just confirmed her identity. ‘Stupid, Sierra.’

It’s face twisted into a cruel expression of glee. She did not like it. “Indeed.” It began bending down, and then a large hand was reaching towards her. “You shall be coming with me, human. Soundwave has seen how Jackson Darby is fond of you.” it purred. “You will make a lovely bargaining chip against that pathetic human runt and his Autobot protectors.”

And wait, this was because of Jack? How did he come into all this? If this thing was after her because of him, that had to mean he knew about it and it’s…friends. Did robots have friends? She didn’t know. And wait, Autobot?

She stiffened, scrabbling away from the large metallic hand, shunting those questions to the back of her mind to be answered later. Escape the terrifying metal monster now, murder Jack for pulling her into this later. Clearly though, the robot disliked her attempt to flee because it only growled and stepped towards her again.

That’s when she heard the roaring of a powerful engine. It made the robot pause too, and they both looked to where the sound came from. Then, over the crest of a hill, a white and blue sports car came flying in. It had red accents and bold 38s painted onto its doors. Sierra was impressed. She was no car person, but even she liked this one. Only, the car started breaking apart once it hit the ground, unfolding and growing into the form of, you guessed it, another robot.

Sierra despaired for her luck. ‘Murphy is going to die a second time for this. He’d better be prepared.’ She thought with vicious hysteria.

Except, to her great surprise, the new robot didn’t try to help capture her. No, instead it rammed full force into the tall jet robot that had tried to snatch her up. Said jet yelped before quickly getting back to its feet. Sierra heard the should of metal and gears shifting, and saw the newcomer’s large hand change to some sort of weapon, though not one she could recognize.

“Terrorizing humans now, Starscream?” it taunted. “Can’t say I’m surprised, you always were one to sink so low.”

The first robot, Starscream, apparently, snarled in outrage. “Pathetic Autobot!” it roared, and oh, so this newcomer was Autobot?

Except, from the two names she’d heard already, that didn’t sound like the type of name these robots seemed to have. She did notice the little face badges they wore, the white bot bearing a red one proudly on its shoulders while the jet robot wore a smaller, pointier face on its chest. So maybe those had something to do with the whole ‘Autobot’ thing? Hell if she knew. Sierra was clever, and she’d always been good at puzzles and mystery solving, but she didn’t have enough information for this whole…thing.

“I’m not the one who’s picking on defenseless humans, ‘Con!” the car robot barked, smirking at the skinnier jet.

The jet only snarled, lifting an arm that she was just noticing had a freaking missile attached to it, and the white robot stilled briefly, before shooting her a frantic look and oh, would you look at that, she seemed to be right in the blast radius of the missile, and oh god she was going to die-

Except, there was that shifting sound again, but much larger, and then car robot was leaping towards her. It hit the ground in car form, it’s driver door open as it slid sideways in her direction, and then she was swept up into it and the door slammed shut. Tires squealed, and then they were peeling away to the sound of a missile screaming and impacting where they had been a half second before. The jet roared in outrage, but the car robot was speeding straight towards civilization, and it seemed to want to avoid that because when she glanced at the rear view mirror she saw it leap into the sky and transform before flying away.

Sierra slowly sat up from her ungainly sprawl, pulling the seatbelt across her chest on reflex before sitting back against the driver’s seat and wheezing. Her heartbeat, which she only just noticed had been thundering wildly in her chest, started to slowly calm, and she had to force herself to take deep, even breaths to keep herself from hyperventilating.

Now, Sierra wasn’t an irrational girl. She was among the top students of all her classes, she was smart, she knew a lot about various topics, and she had a good understanding of how people worked. She was clever, she knew she had a good head on her shoulders. She kept some of her interests closer to her chest, and she played the good, polite, quiet girl for the adults, because she wasn’t without manners, thank you very much. All that meant, though, was that she wasn’t prone to screaming in terror and running like a madman when she was freaked out by something. She would prefer to understand something rather than be irrationally terrified of it.

This, though? This was a bit much, even for her. As her heartbeat calmed, a sense of nausea built in her throat. “Excuse me, robot?” she squeaked. She wasn’t even sure if she could communicate with it while it was in car mode, but it was worth a shot.

“It’s Smokescreen.”

What?

“What?”

“My name is Smokescreen. Not “robot”.”

It sounded miffed. Which, okay. That was fair. If someone called her just “human” she’d probably be upset too. Hell, she had been upset when that other one, Starscream, had called her a “fleshling”. Smokescreen’s voice also sounded very male, and she paused before asking.

“And you’re not an “it” either, then?”

“No, I’m a mech.” A pause. “Uh, a male, by your definitions.”

“Okay. Smokescreen. Well, I’m Sierra, and as grateful as I am for your rescue you should really, really stop and let me out. Humans don’t handle extreme stress very well and I’m about to be sick.”

“Sick?”

Oh god, did robots even get sick?

“I’m about to vomit. Which means I am very close to expelling internal body waste, and it will be right in your seats if you don’t let me out so I can barf behind some rocks.” she informed him tightly, fighting down a gag.

There was a brief moment if silence as Smokescreen seemed to process her words, before he turned off the side of the road, drove behind some rocks, and popped open the door. “Please don’t be sick in me.” Oh, now he sounded sick. Sierra felt a little bad.

She didn’t say anything to that, instead stumbling out of the car and out of sight, before promptly bending over and tossing her breakfast. She gagged on bile, and after a moment of pause to make sure there was nothing left in her stomach, she stood and made her way back to where Smokescreen was waiting. She pulled her water bottle from her bag, taking a sip and washing out her mouth with it before spitting it to the side, and then she proceeded to drink everything left in the bottle. She tucked it away, turning to her impromptu ride, and opened her mouth to speak, when-.

“Oh slag.” He beat her to the punch.

She was confused, recognizing that as a curse of some sort, and then she heard the beeping from his radio.

“Um, hold on for a minute, alright? I gotta take this.” He sounded anxious, and didn’t give her a chance to answer before there was a click as he did just that.

She heard muffled noises over the radio, though she couldn’t make out the words being said.

“Um, yeah. There was a ‘Con signal. I was close so I checked it out.”

More radio noises, angry sounding ones.

“I know, I know! But I was closest and no one would pick up their comm. so I thought I should st least check it out! It was a good thing too, Starscream was there and he was about to snatch up a human!”

A pause, and then an explosion of garbled noise from the radio. Sierra got the feeling that Smokescreen was wincing.

“Well what was I supposed to do? Let her be taken? Plus she’d already seen him so it wasn’t like seeing me was going to do much damage!”

A growling noise, followed by a hiss of static.

“Yes, Ratchet. I know. And I am sorry, alright! I know I went against code again but if I had waited a human would’ve been in Deception hands and as new as I am to this planet, even I know that’s bad!”

Wait, planet? Was this giant ass robot an actual alien? That…honestly made sense. With that day she’d had, she wasn’t even surprised. Smokescreen was still having his discussion with…whoever was on the other end.

“Yes, I’ll bring her back to base. I’m not going to apologize for saving her, though.”

More angry static.

“Yeah yeah. I get it.”

He sounded tired, defeated. Sierra felt bad, and wondered what was being said to make him sound like that when he’d been so bright before.

“No, you don’t need to send a ground bridge. I’m close to the base anyway. I’ll be there soon.”

There was a click as Smokescreen disconnected from whoever called him, and then she could tell he was talking to her when he spoke next. “Mind hopping in? I gotta bring you back to base. The boss can explain everything. I promise you won’t be hurt or anything.”

Sierra hesitated for a moment, then sighed. She knew she probably shouldn’t, but at this point what was the harm? Besides, her gut instinct was telling her that, based on what that Starscream character had said about Jack, she wouldn’t have to worry about being hurt. Not if Darby spent all his free time around these weird alien robots and came back fine. Mind decided, she slipped into the car’s open door. It shut on its own, and she buckled herself in once more.

“Thanks.” He sounded grateful. And then he was driving off.

He wasn’t saying anything, and neither was Sierra, and she let herself be alone with her thoughts. They drove for a while, and Sierra let herself enjoy the landscape that passed by Smokescreen’s window. He really was a nice ride, she mused. Sleek and fast, and his engine purred quietly as he drove along the highway. She didn’t know much about cars, but she knew his car mode was a good one.

Soon enough, they were coming towards a large mesa. Smokescreen drove right toward its side, not even slowing as he approached, Sierra tensed, about to protest, when a previously invisible door opened in the rock face. She shut her mouth, her eyes blowing wide. Oh. That explained that. Their base was hidden in plain sight. Which…she supposed was fitting, for alien robots who disguised themselves as cars and jets. Smokescreen took them through a tunnel, and then they were coming into a large central chamber. Sierra peeked out if the window to see two other robots there. One, stocky and painted in red and white. The other…was absolutely massive. He towered above the red and white bot, and she had a feeling he’d tower over Smokescreen too. He was broad as he was tall, with wide shoulders and a heavy looking chest, his metal armor painted in red and blue. Sierra didn’t know how she knew, but she just knew that this large one was a he, a mech, as Smokescreen had said.

The door at her side popped open, and after brief hesitation she unbuckled herself and stood up. There was that sound of transformation behind her, and she glanced back to see Smokescreen rising to his feet in his robot mode. Then a voice spoke and she snapped her head around to see the large bot speaking.

“Greetings, young one. My name is Optimus Prime. My companion is Ratchet, and you have already met Smokescreen.”

Ratchet. That’s who Smokescreen had been talking to earlier. “I’m Sierra.” she said after a moment. “Sierra O’Niell.”

Optimus tilted his head downwards in her direction. “May I inquire why Starscream was attempting to abduct you, if you know?”

“You’re very polite.” she remarked dryly. “He said something about wanting to use me to get to Jack Darby, so that he could in turn use Jack to get to the “Autobots”. I’m guessing that’s you guys?”

Optimus shared a look with Ratchet, then looked back at her. “Indeed. Myself and my team are Autobots. Starscream is a Decepticon. Our factions are enemies, I am afraid.” he explained. “We are not from your world, Sierra O’Niell. We hail from a planet called Cybertron. Our two factions were at War on our home, and that War destroyed our world. The Deceptions came here, searching for energon, and we have followed them to keep them from destroying your planet and it’s people in their quest for it.”

Sierra turned that over. She’d guessed they weren’t from Earth, so that wasn’t a surprise. The rest of the information was new, though. And appreciated. “What’s energon? And how does Jack fit into all this?”

Optimus sighed. “Energon is an energy source, and the very lifeblood of every Cybertronian.” he explained. “It is a natural resource that was once common on our home, and somehow Earth too produces it in great abundance.” he explained. “Jackson, Miko, and Raphael became involved with us by accident. They were seen with my Autobots when they mistakenly were pulled into a battle with the Decepticons, and the Decepticons assumed they were our allies. In order to protect them, we took them under our watch and guard to ensure they could not be harmed.”

So, Esquivel and Nakadai were part of this too. She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d seen the cars that picked those two up, now that she thought of it. Speaking of which….

“Jack’s motorcycle is an Autobot, isn’t it? And Miko and Raphael’s cars?”

Optimus hummed. “Indeed. Arcee, Bumblee, and Bulkhead were the ones to initially partner with and save the children in that first encounter. After they were brought into the fold, it made only sense to assign them as their Autobot guardians.”

Sierra nodded as she took that all in. Then she frowned. “I’m involved now too, aren’t I? I would have been involved regardless, if the Decepticons were really after me, but Smokescreen saving me just means my involvement is going to be more pleasant than it otherwise would have been.”

Optimus and Ratchet shared yet another look, before casting their gazes to Smokescreen. The white bot fidgeted under their combined stares, head ducking and looking uncomfortable. “While we are not pleased that the youngling acted on impulse and charged into battle against protocol, we are pleased that he saved your life, young Sierra.” Optimus said after a moment.

Sierra blinked. “Youngling.” she repeated in confusion. Then she narrowed her eyes. “You’re not getting him into trouble for saving me, are you?” she asked heatedly. The very idea insulted her.

Optimus twitched as if startled, then rumbled a soft chuckle. “Youngling, yes. It is a term used by Cybertronians to refer to those of us who are not yet fully grown. Smokescreen is the equivalent of a human teenager.” he explained. “And worry not. In this instance, we can overlook the breach in regulations. It would send a poor message to punish a bot for upholding the Autobot creed.”

Sierra relaxed at that, nodding. Then she narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to want to have a discussion with you later about why you’re letting teenagers fight in a war, but I know now isn’t the time.” she said threateningly.

Both older bots startled back and her tone and words, and Smokescreen squeaked from behind her. She turned and drew a harsh line across her mouth before he could say anything, and she watched as he stared, slack-jawed, before closing his mouth with an audible clack. That done, she returned her attention to the apparent leader. There was one more thing she wanted settled.

“You said the others got guardians, right?”

A nod.

“Well, if I’m going to need one, and something tells me I will, then I want this one.” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at Smokescreen.

Optimus’s eyes narrowed in what she realized was a faint smile. “If Smokescreen agrees, then I have no issues with that.” he hummed. “All I ask is that you remain here until our liaison with the human government arrives. Agent Fowler will want to discuss some matters with you before you return home.”

Sierra blinked. So the government knew about all this. That was good to know. It meant she wouldn’t get in trouble for conspiring with aliens if it ever came to light. She could also understand why they kept this whole thing a secret, even if governments hiding things from the public wasn’t always a good thing. In this case, it was a good thing.

“As long as I’m home before my curfew.” she agreed.

Another bow of that great head, and then Optimus was turning to stride away. Presumably to make contact with this Fowler. That left her and Smokescreen with Ratchet.

The stocky bot glanced at them, then turned to that odd console she’d noticed earlier. “Smokescreen will show you around.” Was all he said, waving them away with a dismissive flip of his hand.

Sierra, taking that as her cue, turned to the youngest bot. She thrust out her hand. “What do you say? Partners?”

He seemed confused, before slowly crouching and extending his hand to tap a finger to her palm. “Yeah, sure.” he seemed a little awed that she’d want to partner with him.

She smiled. “Good. In that case, why don’t you give me a ride and show me around your base?”

Smokescreen seemed confused. “Ride?”

“On your shoulder. I’d like to see it from your perspective.”

He blinked, then shrugged and put his hand, palm up, on the floor. Sierra took that as her que to climb up, and he carefully transferred her to his shoulder. Cool. Very cool. She just wanted to ride on the giant alien robot, and now she got to. That was cool.

She saw him look at her out of the corner of his bright, shining blue eyes, and she smiled warmly. “Well? Show me around your home, big guy. I’d like to get to know you.”

Smokescreen perked up, the little protrusions on his back wiggling with his apparent joy, and Sierra grinned a little wider. Oh, he was cute. How a giant robot could be endearing, she didn’t know, but he did it. He was sort of like a puppy. A giant, metal, alien puppy. She held on as he started walking, and she listened with half an ear, processing and noting what he told her as the rest of her mind turned over the events of her day.

It had been stressful, and scary, but now that it was all done and she was fine…

‘Yeah.’ she thought, watching her new partner eagerly show her around the small, hidden base he called home. ‘I think I’m gonna like it here.’

———————————————————————————————————

And that was that! I hoped you like it! It was fun to write. The show didn’t give Sierra a last name or a real personality, so I had to kind of do that bit myself. And I was right! I did enjoy writing this. The prompt inspired me to write this faster than I thought I’d be able to. I do not expect to be able to fill a prompt this quickly again. Unfortunately. Also, Sierra is definitely going to be the straight man to Smokescreen. He’s going to need it. Badly.

Until next time, friends!

[sagamemes]

the sheridan tapes  📼  part one.   here and under the cut, you can find a little under 120 lines of dialogue from the horror podcast the sheridan tapes, specifically from episodes one to three, edited for roleplay purposes.  tw: police, murder, supernatural elements, mentions of apocalyptic scenarios, near death experiences, injuries, vehicular crash, recreational drug and alcohol use.

❝  jesus, [name]. you’re not making this easy, are you?  ❞

❝  makes you wonder... do these things follow me because i chase them, or were they always following me?  ❞

❝  darkness and complete disorientation does a number on the human brain.  ❞

❝  i don't think he was a werewolf.  ❞

❝  i’d call it the customer service smile. you know, the one that says  ‘ thank you for shopping with us, please die now ’.  ❞

❝  i’ve found the more showy the text, the less impressive the actual phenomena.  ❞

❝  my job here is kind of… shaky at the moment.  ❞

❝  [name] was also engaged in the study of the impossible in his free time.  ❞

❝  so it’s just me who drives you up the wall then?  ❞

❝  well, you’ll be happy to hear i haven’t been having any fun. no weed, no ghosts.  ❞

❝  there hasn’t been a new lead on her case in more than half a year.  ❞

❝  so here i am, wrapped up in a blanket, staring at my little fireplace, so bored i actually decided to call my sister for once.  ❞

❝  it’s a little town near bandon. very little. nice little mini-market, and that’s about it.  ❞

❝  i doubt i’ll sleep much tonight. that’s okay. i just feel like looking at the stars for a while.  ❞

❝  it's probably for the best. i am simultaneously exhausted from the drive and absolutely wired from the coffee.  ❞

❝  i wonder if there will still be ghosts out there when that happens?  when the earth is gone?  ❞

❝  glad to hear you’re enjoying yourself, then.  ❞

❝  knowing doesn’t make things any easier, but it does make them a little less frightening.  ❞

❝  that’s all just a lazy way of saying that the real explanation is too difficult—or too horrible—for them to accept.  ❞

❝  it almost killed me, but in the end it settled for putting me in pt for a year while i figured out how to use my hands again.  ❞

❝  he muttered something about my time being up. or maybe he said it wasn’t up.  ❞

❝  i don’t really care that i didn’t get any writing done today.  ❞

❝  nothing. not a single idea worth writing down, no itch i needed to scratch or question i needed to answer.  ❞

❝  guess there really is no such thing as bad press.  ❞

❝  i have no idea what a writer’s  ‘ process ’  usually looks like, but i’m pretty sure it’s not this.  ❞

❝  see what i have to deal with?  god… siblings, am i right?  ❞

❝  what can i say?  i have a soft spot for gothic architecture.  ❞

❝  computers have never been very good at reconciling paradoxes.  ❞

❝  they’re pretty much over funding my little expeditions.  ❞

❝  that kind of smile doesn’t normally show that many teeth.  ❞

❝  you know, that’s only scary the first few times you do it.  ❞

❝  one day, it will be dead. one day all the stars will burn out, go dark and silent. one day, everything will be so dark and so cold that no new stars can ever be born. the old ones will blink out one by one, like candles going out, and then… nothing. silence. darkness. void.  ❞

❝  the simplest explanation is almost always the right one.  ❞

❝  i don’t remember getting in my van, putting the key in the ignition, or speeding away from that house, but i must have.  ❞

❝  no, no, i’m fine, i’m fine, just go bother someone else.  ❞

❝  i haven’t eaten, moved, or written anything all day.  ❞

❝  but maybe that's just the fact that it is two in the morning and my brain is running mostly on caffeine.  ❞

❝  given how good a [job] he is, i know it’s not the first time he’s done it.  ❞

❝  i escaped, but i knew that whatever was in that house has just marked me as prey.  ❞

❝  calm down. think. you’re just going to confuse yourself.  ❞

❝  just wanted to tell you a couple of us are headed out to marvin’s for drinks if you want to come.  ❞

❝  one of the most disappointing things about living in america is the lack of genuinely haunted houses. out of all the supposed haunts i’ve visited, maybe one in ten seems like the real deal.  ❞

❝  sounds… peaceful. not many distractions, then?  ❞

❝  something tells me this tape wasn’t played in court.  ❞

❝  one of the neighbours must have called 911.  ❞

❝  my infamous accident. it almost killed me.  ❞

❝  i just woke up to footsteps in the kitchen. i don’t know who, or what, but there’s someone in here with me!  ❞

❝  could you shut the door on your way out, please?  ❞

❝  uh, wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.  ❞

❝  the fire that i said went out?  yeah, it just started burning again.  ❞

❝  so i asked him to lie.  ❞

❝  it'd really be just a few of us. maybe me and [name] and one or two other tagalongs…  ❞

❝  apparently, the press had a lot of questions too.  ❞

❝  i’ve driven more than 8 hours and drunk enough bad coffee to give an elephant heart palpitations. i’m sure as hell going to get my money’s worth.  ❞

❝  oh sorry, am i bothering you now? what happened to  ‘ call anytime you want, [name] ’ or,  ‘ you’re always welcome here, [name] ’ ?  ❞

❝  i’ve forgotten to charge my phone. again.  ❞

❝  i… think i’m going to turn around now.  ❞

❝  well sorry if i wanted to have a nice talk with my sister for a change.  ❞

❝  will it just be left there forever? our legacy? look upon our works, ye mighty, and despair?  ❞

❝  no matter how far away from home you are, no matter how different the constellations might look from where you’re standing, you can always look up on a clear, dark night and feel like you’re about to fall right into it—the terrifying, endless expanse of nothingness.  ❞

❝  i know authors can do some crazy things to get out of writer’s block, but i’ve never heard of one resorting to arson.  ❞

❝  why do you always think there’s something wrong?  ❞

❝  ours is not to question why, ours is but to digitize and stay the hell out of trouble.  ❞

❝  so let’s try walking backwards. just keep an eye on it.  ❞

❝  i got lucky. or maybe i was just fast enough to escape.  ❞

❝  maybe there are secret passages behind the walls and corridors.  ❞

❝  no matter how far i walked, i couldn’t find the way i came in.  ❞

❝  well, i /know/ i’ve had worst nights. i just can’t think of any right now.  ❞

❝  i do want you to have fun, [name], i just don’t want you to get yourself killed doing it.  ❞

❝  i mean, obviously, i do care, that’s the whole reason i made this trip. to get away from the noise and focus.  ❞

❝  i might have… forgotten to tell anyone where i was going.  ❞

❝  before i get started, there’s just one thing i need to say. i have absolutely no patience for the unexplained, or the things people call  ‘ unexplainable ’,  ‘ supernatural ’, or  ‘ paranormal ’.  ❞

❝  i told [name] that i needed to get out, to get inspired.  ❞

❝  okay, if someone is messing with me, they’re going to be very sorry, very quickly.  ❞

❝  [name] lied his ass off to save yours.  ❞

❝  a crash like that does funny things to your head.  ❞

❝  i still don’t know how he got there without me noticing.  ❞

❝  any plans i had to travel abroad went up in smoke.  ❞

❝  i thought of pulling out the bad cop routine.  ❞

❝  strange how something so dead can be so beautiful.  ❞

❝  it hated me:  hated what i do, and more than that, hated who i am.  ❞

❝  lots of tall tales. and more than a few ghost stories.  ❞

❝  oh good, you’re still here!  ❞

❝  reviewers absolutely grilled it:  said it was a nonsensical rip off of the dark tower, whatever that means.  ❞

❝  i jumped out the window. cut my hands on the glass, but thankfully not bad enough to need stitches  ❞

❝  i told her, tonight.  ❞

❝  for a minute, i wondered if that would really be so bad. it was a fitting way to go, given my… well, everything.  ❞

❝  i suppose that’s a universal constant—maybe the only one.  ❞

❝  i never let myself get this turned around. especially not at night.  ❞

❝  i don’t know if it’s actually haunted. but if not, then it was sure as hell convincing.  ❞

❝  i’m not one of those people who thinks she’s the spawn of satan or something ridiculous like that.  ❞

❝  unless i’m prepared to accept that she was murdered by something that crawled out of a funhouse mirror, this isn’t much help with the case, either.  ❞

❝  i have to try and work some actual cases the rest of the time. you know, cases that might have some answers i can find.  ❞

❝  it's cold, damp, and dark as night. i'm in my element, at least.  ❞

❝  your place is waiting for you.  ❞

❝  yeah, i’m all good. great… hanging in there, you know?  one day at a time.  ❞

❝  oh, i see you. you think i’m still scared of [thing], huh?  think you can freak me out?  ❞

❝  trust me, i’ve had a hell of a day, and you do not want to mess with a pissed off…  ❞

❝  and tell my sister i'm sorry.  ❞

❝  oh god, it's cold.  ❞

❝  the night sky really is beautiful out here.  ❞

❝  tell him he shouldn’t have been such a good liar.  ❞

❝  i’ve been listening to this for the last two weeks now.  ❞

❝  it’s not even that i’m having bad ideas. i’m not having any at all.  ❞

❝  can’t get away from the work, no matter what i do.  ❞

❝  i made sure i switched off my phone before i came up here, just in case.  ❞

❝  god, these things smell of weed.  ❞

❝  yeah, well… just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you know?  ❞

❝  [name] is dead. that's all there is to it.  ❞

❝  no, i need to get out of here. it’s been a long day.  ❞

❝  a lot of the art i found was just paintings of a night sky full of stars.  ❞

❝  my job is to look the facts dead in the face and find an explanation. one that will hold up in a court of law.  ❞

❝  personal and career choices, i guess you’d call them.  ❞

❝  damn. i could’ve sworn i felt something strange about this place when i hiked through this morning… or maybe it was a different part. hard to tell this late at night, anyway.  ❞

❝  well, let’s just say a middle-aged man-child running out panicked and tearing at his eyes would hardly be a marketable image.  ❞

❝  i didn’t mind that i’d be alone—i always expected that to be how i went.  ❞

❝  i’m sure that’s on my personnel file by now, as if it could get any more problematic.  ❞

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Under the Moon

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Avengers - Peter Parker/Spider-Man

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: I’ve been in a mood recently.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I actually put forth a decent effort this time to make it as gender-neutral as possible. It’s probably not perfect but I tried.

^^^^^

A twinge in the muscles of my back jarred me from my sleep.

$#!+ did I forget again? I thought. Another spasm arched me off my mat. I fumbled through my bag for my phone. No service. Of course not. With shaking fingers, somehow I managed to unlock it. Moon Tracker was waiting for me on my home page. It launched and actually loaded, despite the lack of service.

Tonight’s Moon: Full read the screen.

I swore aloud. MJ didn’t wake.

Scrambling out of the tent, I stumbled through the dark to the tent next to ours. “Peter!” I hissed, knocking a knuckle against the tent pole. “Pete!”

I heard a groan. “What?” Peter complained.

“I need your help. I need you to come with me. Now.”

The tent he shared with Ned zipped open. Ned was curled up in a corner and clearly Peter had been sprawled out. Peter slipped out, barely managing to get into his sneakers, and zipped the tent shut behind him. “What’s goin’ on?” He yawned.

I recoiled as pain wracked through me. “We need to get away from camp—and I need you to web me to a tree,” I replied.

“What?”

“Now!”

My tone scared him into movement. He grabbed my hand and we ran from the campsite. I stumbled more than anything. My control over my own body was slipping. I moaned in pain. Peter looked back at me.

“What’s happening to your eyes?”

“No time to explain. Keep moving,” I panted.

We blindly wove through the woods until we were over a mile away. I found a sturdy tree and backed against it.

“Web me here,” I said. “Just cover me.”

“Why?”

I looked up. The moon was starting to peek above the hills, casting its light through the woods. “Just do it!” I cried out—stifling the sound as much as I could—and slammed into the tree. “Now!”

Peter’s webshooters activated and he spewed webs at me. I gave him a small smile.

Then I thrashed in pain—

And everything went black.

—

Peter stared as his friend’s body began to change. Claws broke through fingers. Fangs replaced teeth. A snout elongated from the face. Thick, brown-and-black hair sprouted. Pajamas started to disappear under the hair.

Until, instead of a human, Peter was staring at a wolf.

An enormous wolf. Easily twice the size of a regular wolf—and he’d found out that wolves were twice as big as he’d thought not too long ago—and covered in grey fur. The beast’s paws were wide and ended in long dark claws sharp enough to tear flesh like cotton candy. Thankfully they were positioned too awkwardly to reach the webs holding it.

“Gah! What the he—” He cut himself off as the wolf snarled at him, writhing against the webs. He applied another layer just to be safe. “Since—since—since when could you do—” The moonlight shone brighter, catching his attention. He peered up.

The moon was a massive disc—full and shining silver-white down against the tree trunk.

The wolf in front of him seemed transfixed by it, staring up with a melancholy whine softly escaping its throat. It tried again to escape the webs, but only half-heartedly.

Peter whooshed out a breath as realization struck him like a blow from the Hulk. “You’re a werewolf,” he whispered.

The wolf whimpered and then growled. Peter stepped back.

“I’m not sleeping tonight, am I?” He asked.

The wolf didn’t reply.

Which was probably a good thing, because if it did he probably would have screamed loud enough to wake up their friends over a mile away—and every big nasty in the forest. And he doubted his werewolf friend would protect him.

The wolf’s amber eyes were watching him suspiciously. But Peter just sat down and yawned again. “You and I have known each other for like ten years now. You’re in on my secret. Why didn’t you ever tell me yours?” He stared at the wolf, who was still seething at being trapped, but not fighting against the webs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Again, the wolf made no reply. Just turned those amber eyes up to the moon. Peter looked up at it too. “Yeah. It’s beautiful. Especially on nights like tonight. When there aren’t any clouds.”

The wolf whined like a puppy—and Peter had to remind himself to not tear off the webs to cuddle into that thick, soft-looking fur. That werewolves probably didn’t have any human memories when they were in their wolf form. He leaned back on his hands. “You’re probably not gonna remember this, so I may as well tell you: I’ve actually had a crush on you since like seventh grade. I know we’ve been friends for longer than that but…” He shrugged. The wolf kept staring at the moon. “I don’t know. Something changed that year. I saw you in the gym with the ballroom dance club, teaching some poor dude how to waltz when I stayed late for robotics, and it was like this… like a lightbulb went off in my head. You know? Suddenly it was like I was really seeing you for the first time. Like I caught a glimpse of the best pieces of your soul.

“And I’ve never been the same since. Never looked at you the same way. I notice the grace you use when you move. Even if you’re clumsy sometimes. But I see your compassion too. Your care. Like once I started looking, I couldn’t stop.”

The wolf didn’t even react to him at all.

Peter sighed. “I’ll keep an eye on you tonight. I promise. You won’t be able to get out or hurt anything. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

—

I came to under the pale orange light of dawn. The last dregs of dissolving web fluid clung to my pajamas. I felt drained. Like I always did the morning after a full moon.

“Hey, you’re up!” Peter said happily. I turned. He was sitting on the forest floor a few feet away, using a Bunsen burner camping “stove” to heat a small pot of water. Two paper cups were sitting near him, plastic spoons poking out of the top. I slumped against the tree trunk. “I’m making some cocoa. Want some?”

I watched him pour the water in the cups, adding packets of cocoa mix and stirring carefully. I didn’t have the energy to actually reply.

He handed me one of the cups. “This should warm you up. It’s a little chilly.”

“Did you get any sleep?” I croaked.

“I did, actually. See, the thing is, my webs dissolve in two hours. On average, it takes fourteen minutes for a person to fall asleep, and a single sleep cycle is ninety minutes—hour and a half. So I used my webshooters to set timers. An almost-two-hour one to know when to replace the webs around you, and another to wake me up roughly an hour and forty-four minutes after I set it. So I slept between replacing your webs and I actually feel alright. Probably better than you anyway.”

I grunted agreement at that. I felt like I’d been trampled by a herd of elephants.

I tried a sip of the cocoa. Not too hot, but enough to warm my core. I sighed, content with the taste and warmth.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Peter asked quietly. I met his eyes. He had the expression of a sad puppy on his face.

I huffed a little, stirring my cocoa. “My secret isn’t like yours, Peter,” I said. “You keep your secret to keep the people you care about safe. I do too, but mine—mine is different. You’re keeping the people you love safe from villains who want to hurt you by hurting them. I’m keeping the people I care about safe from me. Because I’m… we’re classified as monsters, Peter. Werewolves, vampires—we’re referred to as monsters the same way humans are mammals. I never told you because what I can do… it’s worse than what you can do. You’re a superhero. I’m a lycanthrope. Yours is a mutation of your DNA. Mine is literally a curse. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you looking at me like I’m…”

“A monster?” Peter finished gently.

I almost growled at the word. “Yeah,” I admitted begrudgingly, taking a sip of my cocoa. “You have no idea how hard it is for someone like me to make or keep friends. I’ve spent most of my life super lonely. Then I met you and Ned and MJ and I felt like… like finally I could have some friends. I was turned into a werewolf when I was four-years-old, Peter. Thirteen years, I’ve suffered with this alone. My parents know but they don’t talk about it. They pretend like my curse doesn’t exist. Then I make friends for the first time in my life and still know, deep down, that I’ll never belong with them. Not really. Even when you told me about you, I knew I still wasn’t like you. I never would be. So I hoped I could just be friends as long as I could with you guys and… find a way to live with it when you all eventually left me.”

I downed the rest of my cup and stood. My joints ached.

“We should go back to camp before Ned and MJ wonder where we’ve gone,” I said.

Not waiting for Peter, I headed back the way we’d come, following my own scent through the trees, several hours old now, but doubly punctuated by Peter’s as he’d gone back to get the burner and the cocoa.

He caught up to me, jogging a little. “For the record, even though you scared the pants off of me last night when I saw you turn, I don’t think you’re a monster,” he said.

I managed a small smile. “Thanks,” I replied.

“And, also, I’m not going to leave you. You’re still my friend and I’m not scared. I can lift… like, a hundred times more than my body weight. I think I can handle you as a wolf. You’re not gonna hurt me and I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s… that’s a relief to hear,” I admitted. We kept hiking back. “Do I remember you saying you’ve had a crush on me since we were in seventh grade? Or did I dream that up?”

Peter swore under his breath. A normal person wouldn’t have heard it, but I did. Wolf’s hearing. “Uh… I think you dreamt that up,” he said.

Liar. But if he wasn’t ready to tell me human-face-to-human-face, I’d give him time. He’d taken my secret better than I could have asked for or anticipated. I could let him admit his feelings whenever he was ready. I owed him that much.

When we got back to camp, MJ was sitting on a tree stump, munching on some dry cereal. “Where have you two been all night?” she asked.

[majimemegoro]

When Saejima drifted to consciousness and opened his eyes to see the well-worn beams of a traditional house, with dried fish hanging from its rafters and a pot over the hearth, he was more surprised at the fact that he was anywhere at all than at the particular surroundings he found himself in.

It only took a few more seconds of his blinking at the ceiling before a voice beside him said, “Ah, you’re awake.”

Saejima groaned and somehow managed to sit up despite the fact that every muscle in his body felt like it had been pulverized. Then he realized that between the brawl in the prison, the tumble from the snowmobile, the fight with the bear (had that been real?), and whatever effects he was suffering from exposure to the elements, every muscle in his body probably had been pulverized. The skin, bones, and organs, too.

The person who had spoken sat across from Saejima, on the other side of the little hearth and hanging pot, from which a delicious smell was emanating. His hair and beard were grey.

“You can call me Okudera,” the man said. “I brought you down from the mountain. You’re lucky to be alive.” And without pausing: “Here.” He pushed a bowl of hot stew into Saejima’s hands.

Saejima looked down at it, and then back up at the man - Okudera. His expression was calm and clear, but Saejima couldn’t help dwelling on all the ways this situation was strange and had the potential to become terrible. Did this guy not realize that Saejima had escaped from Abashiri?

“It’s good,” Okudera said impatiently. “Now go on, eat.”

Carefully Saejima took a piece of meat in his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. His eyes widened.

Okudera cracked a grin. “That was made by the best damn cook in Hokkaido,” he said.

Saejima attacked the meal. He was inclined to believe Okudera was right.

As he finished scraping the last of the sauce into his mouth, there was a sliding sound and the whistle of wind, and a second man entered the house. The man hesitated for a moment when he saw that Saejima was awake, but his eyes weren’t fearful. There was something animal-like in the placid intensity of his gaze, as though he were a predator looking at something that wasn’t food, something it wasn’t planning on devouring. It was unnerving. Then he turned away and began shedding his hat and coat.

“Ah, you’re back,” Okudera said. “Our guest has awoken.”

“I can see that,” the second man said expressionlessly. His voice was soft, but hoarse. “How are you feeling?”

Saejima opened his mouth to answer, but Okudera beat him to it. “I said I’m fine,” Okudera said, in the mild tone of a man who had gotten tired of pretending to be offended at inquiries into his well-being. “It will take more than a little weight-bearing hike to put me out of commission. Didn’t even muss my ponytail.”

The other man shrugged. He took a stool and sat down by the wall, facing towards Saejima and hunched over with his elbows on his knees. The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling did little to illuminate the harsh planes of his face, only hollowed his cheekbones and turned his eye sockets into dark holes, making his grim stare unsettling indeed.

“Ah...” Okudera said. He turned back to Saejima. “Well, you’ve already heard who I am. And this is my-”

“I’m his hunting partner,” the other man broke in, deadpan. “Suzuki.”

“Uh, yeah, this is my hunting partner... Suzuki,” Okudera repeated, looking at him. “He can be a bit unfriendly, but he’s a good guy, really. Suzuki - cheer up!”

Suzuki didn’t take his eyes off Saejima, and his expression didn’t soften.

Saejima nodded slowly. “I’m Saejima,” he said. “Thank you for rescuin’ me. I owe you my life.”

“Not a big deal,” Okudera said. “Besides, if the bears eat human flesh they get all fucked up, apparently, and we already have a demon bear on the loose around here, so...”

Recalling the bear he had fought, Saejima nodded again, darkly. He could very well imagine that thing being a man-eater. He was really lucky to be alive.

And then he remembered, and ice shot through his veins.

“Oh no!” Saejima said. “Baba-chan! My - I came here with a friend, did either of you see-?!”

Okudera’s brow creased with worry as he shook his head. “There was someone else with you?”

“Yeah! Baba, he’s - I have to go get him-!” Saejima tried to rise.

“Oh no, stop moving!” Okudera said. “You’ll damage your flesh, remember? I didn’t see anyone else out there, but I’ll go back and look-”

“I’ll go,” Suzuki said, standing up. “You’re exhausted, you should rest.”

“I’m a better tracker,” Okudera protested, also rising.

“You might as well have recently carried a deer down from the mountain,” Suzuki said bluntly. “You’re pretending to be fine, but your back is acting up, no? I’m faster than you, anyway. And furthermore, Yama-oroshi is out. I’m better off on my own.”

For a moment Okudera’s mouth twisted, as though he were tasting the fact that Suzuki was right, and hated the flavor. Then, “Fine, Simo,” Okudera said, sitting back down. “Do what you want.”

Suzuki had already turned away and begun outfitting himself in winter gear by the time Okudera finished giving his grudging permission.

“Simo?” Saejima echoed. “Yama-oroshi?”

“Simo is just a nickname,” Okudera said morosely, watching Suzuki tie a pale yellow animal pelt over his shoulders and back. “Because Suzuki is such a fucking amazing sniper or whatever. Yama-oroshi is what the villagers call the demon bear.”

“Ah.”

As Suzuki finished pulling a dark green hat down over his ears, Okudera climbed off the wooden floor and took the rifle off the hooks where it hung by the door. He handed it to Suzuki.

Suzuki took it with a nod of thanks, and stood there, ready. Okudera reached down to adjust the cords holding Suzuki’s pelt in place.

“Be careful,” he murmured.

“I will,” Suzuki replied, almost as softly. Then he moved away and slid the door open. A gust of cold wind whistled through, making Saejima shiver.

“Come back alive!” Okudera said.

“I will,” Suzuki said, and the door slid shut.

For a moment Okudera stayed by the entrance. Then, with a heavy sigh, he returned to his cushion by the fire and settled down.

“He’ll be pissed that I’m telling you this,” Okudera said, “But Sa- Suzuki is like you.”

“Huh?”

“He escaped from Abashiri. Ten years ago.”

“Oh!” It made sense, then, why Okudera and Suzuki weren’t rushing to turn Saejima in - apparently Okudera had long ago made a decision about how to react to escaped convicts, and that reaction didn’t involve running to the police. It might have made Saejima suspicious, but he found he could only be grateful for the fact that the two men were generous enough - odd enough - to take in a man in prison garb without question, and even to go out after his comrade, in what sounded like dangerous conditions. “I’m really so grateful for all you’ve done,” Saejima said.

“Ha. What was I going to do, leave you to die?” Okudera dismissed. “Anyone would have done the same.” He got up again and walked over to the shelves on one side of the room. He rifled around, and Saejima heard clinking. Okudera returned with two cups in one hand and a bottle of Block Party bourbon dangling between the fingers of the other hand.

“I know just what you need,” he said, wiggling the bottle invitingly. “Nothing like a good drink to warm you up after a brush with death on the mountain.” He poured out two cups, and Saejima accepted gratefully.

The bourbon burned going down, but it set a welcome glow in Saejima’s chest.

Okudera took a long drink. “Ah,” he said appreciatively. “Bet you missed that in jail, huh?”

Saejima nodded. “Shit’s dehumanizing. No cigarettes, no booze, disgustin’ food.”

Okudera leaned forward. “Some guys get cigarettes and booze in jail, though.”

“Well, sure,” Saejima said. “But I was on my best behavior. Tryin’ to get out fast. Couldn’t break the rules except in real serious cases.”

“Were you in for a long time?” Okudera asked.

Saejima paused before answering. “I was in for a long time on false charges,” he said. “Then I was out for a bit. Then I was in for two years on true charges.”

“No shit? False charges?”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask-?”

“Murder,” Saejima said. “The real charge was on assault.”

Impressed, Okudera whistled. “I bet you’ve got a hell of a story, huh?”

“I’ll drink to that,” Saejima said, and finished his bourbon.

Okduera raised his cup and did likewise. After tossing back the rest of his drink, he refilled his cup halfway, and then, “That’s all,” he said, screwing the bottle shut. “I can’t get drunk while - Suzuki is up on the mountain. It doesn’t feel right.”

Saejima agreed. Intoxication would be a welcome respite from worry about Baba, but it wasn’t a respite Saejima would willingly seek. “Um, Okudera-han,” he said, “What do you think the chances are that Suzuki-han will find Baba?”

The look on Okudera’s face was full of sympathy, and it made Saejima’s heart sink. “He’ll definitely find him, I think,” Okudera said gently. “Just hope that your friend was able to find some kind of shelter, otherwise...”

Tears pricked at Saejima’s eyes. If only he hadn’t fallen unconscious after fighting the bear, he might have saved Baba himself. As it was - “How long has it been?” he asked. “Since you found me?”

“...You slept for a few hours after I got you back,” Okudera admitted. “But think on the bright side!” he exclaimed. “Sa- Suzuki wasn’t kidding when he said he’s fast, and he’s observant and tenacious as hell, too. There’s no one better to have looking for you if you’re in trouble on the mountain. So don’t you get all mopey on me, okay?”

“There’s also a demon bear out there, you said.”

“Uh, yeah.” Okudera raked a hand through his hair, nearly ruining the ponytail.

“It sure is dangerous up in the mountains,” Saejima said morosely.

Okudera sighed heavily. “Yeah. Shit.” A pause. He fidgeted, playing with his still half-full cup of bourbon. “Are you usually the responsible type or the impulsive type?”

“Uh... depends who I’m with,” Saejima replied. “Compared to some people I’m responsible, I guess, but plenty of folks seem to think I make dumb decisions, so-”

Okudera let out a sound of relief. “Oh, thank fuck,” he said. “So you wouldn’t stop me from going out after my hunting partner even though he told me not to?”

“...Nope.”

“Great.” Okudera slapped his knees and then rose. “I’m going after him. He might need help.” He bent back down to grab his cup, and threw back the remaining alcohol like a shot.

“Hey, Okudera-han, are you the type to stop me from taggin’ along to help my partner?”

“Ah...” Okudera paused in his flurry of activity, and his face twisted. “You really could die if you exert yourself too much right now,” he said regretfully. “Or get permanent tissue damage.”

“The booze thawed me out. You said so yourself.”

Still Okudera hesitated. “Suzuki would bite my ass off if I let you come with me,” he said at last. “He’s the responsible type through and through... most of the time. As much as I know he can handle himself, I can’t just sit on my ass while he might be facing off against that monster. But you’re another matter. I’d love to bring you with me, guns blazing and all, but it’s also true that having a novice with me will slow us way down-”

“Fine,” Saejima grunted in frustration. He didn’t like it, but Okudera was right. It was for the best, however painful, that Saejima sit here uselessly while Baba was rescued.

Okudera pulled on a blue parka and tied off the sleeves, then attached a fur cape across his shoulders with rope, the same as Suzuki had done.

“Suzuki-han said somethin’ about your back-?” Saejima broke in.

“I already took painkillers,” Okudera said. “I’ll be fine. And it’s not like your friend can possibly be as heavy as you... right?” Apprehension evident in his tone.

Saejima shook his head. “He’s a skinny guy, actually.”

“Good. That will be no problem, then.” Okudera fastened an ammo belt over his coat.

“Okay. Are you sure there ain’t anythin’ I can do to help?”

“Keep the hearth warm, I guess,” Okudera said distractedly, hopping around as he pulled on rubber boots. “Just stick some new logs in if it starts to burn too low. Oh, and you should put some proper clothes on, you’ll freeze if you stay in that dumb prison jumpsuit.”

“I don’t got a change of clothes,” Saejima said.

“You can wear some of my old stuff - in that basket.” Okudera pointed at it. “It should fit okay. By the way, I know you said you were on your best behavior, but do you have any contraband with you?”

“Contraband?”

“Like cigarettes or... other stuff. From jail. You know. Drugs.”

“Uh, I might have a few ibuprofen.

“Never mind, never mind,” Okudera said hurriedly. He straightened up and adjusted his pelt one last time before heading to the door and pulling the rifle from the upper set of hooks there. “Okay,” he said. “Wish me luck. For the bear and all, but also so that - Suzuki doesn’t get too pissed at me for disobeying orders.”

“Good luck,” Saejima said, and then with a stiff nod, Okudera was gone.

Saejima drummed his fingers on his knee. The wind whistled mournfully against the cracks of the door. Even near the fire it was a bit chilly, as he was dressed only in the thin prison uniform. He decided to get changed, as Okudera had suggested.

In the basket he was able to find a decent outfit. First thing, a pair of thick woollen socks. The black t-shirt was pretty tight and the pants were a little too short in the leg, but tucking them into the sturdy leather boots got rid of the problem just fine. Best of all, Saejima found a heavy parka with fur trim, and it was in army green - just his color. He happily slid it on, and it fit perfectly.

He started pacing the floor.

For a few minutes he walked around, examining the items hanging on the wall and stored carefully on the various shelves. He briefly picked up a book of poetry and flipped through it.

Then he ran out of self-control and walked out the door.

A helpful villager pointed him in the direction of the trailhead, and Saejima was soon heading uphill, the river rushing beside him. Snowflakes blew into his face, stinging his skin. He fumbled with the zipper on the jacket, but a few seconds made it clear that the zipper was broken. He gave up trying to close it, and began to walk faster. He couldn’t get frostbite if he wasn’t outside for long.

The wind was bitterly cold. After a few minutes Saejima’s face and neck went numb. He pulled the collar of the green parka closer around his throat and kept walking. Snow got into the top of his boots.

He was just beginning to think that maybe it was stupid to go up into the mountain completely unprepared and with no idea where he was going when he spied Okudera coming the other direction. He was hunched, and on his broad shoulders-

“Baba!” Saejima exclaimed, running harder to meet them. Baba was slung over Okudera’s back, looking frighteningly white and still. His lips were blue. “Baba! Is he-?”

“He’s alive,” Okudera said, stopping. There was a smear of blood at the corner of his mouth, above the scrubby beard. “But he’s in shit shape. And Sato’s in trouble.”

“Who?”

“Suzuki!” Okudera corrected hurriedly. “Sato is his given name. But never mind that! Now listen.” He spoke quickly. “Baba’s going to die if he doesn’t get to proper shelter fast. Really fast. So as much as I hate it, I have to be the one to take him back to the house. But Sat- Suzuki was attacked by that fucking bear and he’s holding it off for us.”

“Shit-”

“He can handle the fight, but he was injured and I’m worried about him getting back; Saejima, go find him - just follow the tracks. There isn’t anything an unarmed person can do against that thing, so don’t try to help Sato. Just don’t get in his way.”

“But you want me to help him get back?”

“Yes!” Okudera hefted Baba higher on his shoulders, and started walking sideways back towards the village. “He’s incredibly stubborn and he probably won’t want any support. But promise me you’ll at least take his arm! His side was all torn up - it looked deep-”

The frantic worry in Okudera’s voice was something Saejima was intimately familiar with, in the same way he was all too familiar with the problem of a companion who was unwilling to admit weakness or accept help.

“I promise!” Saejima said. “And - take good care of Baba-chan!”

With only a bob of the head for confirmation, Okudera turned away and headed off again. For a few seconds Saejima stood reluctantly watching him retreat into the falling snow with Baba’s body. Then Saejima turned around and set off again, following Okudera’s tracks.

After only a few more minutes of trudging through the snow, Suzuki appeared in the near distance. He was hunched in a sturdy shooting stance, and there was blood splattered all along the pelt he was wearing. As Saejima watched, a shot cracked out and an an unearthly roar emanated from somewhere beyond the haze of swirling snow, but not far enough for safety.

Suzuki split his gun open, deftly reloaded two bullets into the chambers, and in an instant had the gun braced on his shoulder, ready to shoot again.

“Suzuki-han!” Saejima called. “Suzuki-han!”

Suzuki’s attention only flickered towards Saejima for an instant, then the roar came out of the woods and Suzuki fired once more. There were parallel gashes carved in his cheek, no doubt a lucky outcome given that one swipe of a bear’s paw could take off a man’s face if he wasn’t fast enough.

“Stay back,” Suzuki said, not removing his eyes from the space between the trees where Yama-oroshi lurked just beyond eyesight. Saejima hovered anxiously behind Suzuki. The wind blew harder, and Saejima was racked with shivers he was unable to suppress.

“What are you doing here?” Suzuki said, still keeping his attention focused on the bear. “Return to the village.”

“But I promised-”

At that moment the unearthly roar came a third time, and Suzuki fired a third shot. This time Suzuki let out a short cry of triumph and stepped forward. “Ojisan is retreating! I can give chase,” he said, already starting in the direction from which the roar had emanated.

“Wait-” Saejima said desperately. “Suzuki-han, you’re already hurt and I promised Okudera-han I’d bring you back safe and sound. Can’t the bear wait?”

Suzuki wavered. “You promised?” he demanded.

Saejima nodded.

For another moment Suzuki stood still, frozen in mid-stride, gritting his teeth. Then he lowered the rifle. “Fine,” he said. “So Okudera and Baba got back okay?”

“I don’t know if they got all the way back, but they got to where I was, at least, yeah.”

“...That’s good,” Suzuki said. He eyed Saejima critically, lingering over his exposed face and neck. “Well, I guess we had better get back before you get all frostbitten again.”

Nodding, Saejima reached for Suzuki’s elbow, to support him.

As though he had been stung, Suzuki pulled his arm very far away, and fixed Saejima with a look that was at once questioning and accusatory, a how dare you?

“Okudera-han said I should help you walk...” Saejima explained.

“Tch. I’m not a senior citizen in a retirement home,” Suzuki said acerbically. “I carried your friend all the way down from the ice grove, I think I’m capable of walking on my own-” At that moment Suzuki bent double in pain and let out a cough, and a trickle of blood made its way down his chin, stark against the light grey stubble.

“Hell,” Saejima said worriedly. “You got internal bleedin’ or somethin’, Suzuki-han. We gotta get you to a doctor.”

Suzuki hissed through his teeth. “It’s not that serious,” he said jerkily. “I just-” He swayed on his feet and Saejima leapt forward to catch his arm.

“You got like this protectin’ my friend, now let me help,” Saejima insisted. “Okudera-han said you were stubborn, but if I’d known you were gonna be this stubborn I woulda conked you on the head five minutes ago so that you’d come quietly.”

“I just bit my tongue in half when I tripped over a rock while trying to keep my eye on the bear and carry your friend,” Suzuki snapped. “I don’t think I have internal bleeding.” He spat a gob of bloody saliva onto the ground, shook off Saejima’s grip once more, took a few steps back towards the village, and keeled over face-first into the snow.

Saejima rushed to his side and helped him up. This time Suzuki didn’t complain.

“Now, where are you hurt, Suzuki-han?”

With a grunt Suzuki gestured at his right side, under the ribs. Saejima stepped around to the right, and wound his arm around Suzuki’s waist on the uninjured side. Suzuki held onto Saejima’s left shoulder. Suzuki was a good fifty centimeters shorter than Saejima, so the position was awkward, but it would work. Carrying Suzuki would have been easier, but Saejima didn’t want to know how that suggestion would have gone over. The man was - independent, to put it politely.

In silence save for Suzuki’s ragged breaths, they made their way back down the mountain to the village.

Finally they reached the house. Saejima helped Suzuki up the stairs, and then slid the door open and all at once they were enveloped by the warmth of the indoors.

“Ah!” Okudera exclaimed in the tone of a very relieved grandmother. He leapt up and came rushing over to them and began to fuss over Suzuki. “Thank the fucking mountain gods! How are you doing, Sato?” he said.

There was a pause wherein Suzuki (Sato?) gave Okudera a truly icy glare.

“Ahaha!” Okudera laughed fakely. “You’re so formal, Suzuki, what does it matter if I use your given name around Saejima-san? He doesn’t care, do you, Saejima?”

“Uh, no, it’s fine,” Saejima said, gladly relinquishing the ornery Suzuki to Okudera’s care.

Saejima kicked off his boots and went to Baba’s side.

Okudera and Suzuki had begun whispering furiously by the door, but Saejima could only focus on Baba. He lay stretched out beside the fire on his back, the same heavy quilt that had kept Saejima warm pulled up to his chin. Baba’s face remained very pale, but there were spots of red on his cheeks and his lips were no longer blue. Saejima hoped it was a good sign.

“Hang in there, Baba-chan,” he muttered. “You’re safe now. You just focus on recoverin’.”

Behind him, Okudera and Suzuki had moved onto the wooden floor and were bickering about how to treat Suzuki’s wounds.

“Don’t cut the shirt,” Suzuki was saying in annoyance. “I don’t want to have to mend it again, I can get it off - fuck!” The phrase ended in a hiss of pain.

“I’ll mend it,” Okudera said, and then there was a loud ripping noise, a cry of dismay from Suzuki, and a string of grumbling.

Saejima looked over to see Suzuki sitting shirtless with Okudera dabbing at the place on his side where Yama-oroshi’s claws had raked across his ribs. It looked like some fabric and bits of fur from Suzuki’s outerwear had been embedded in the wound. Saejima grimaced and quickly looked away.

He gently took one of Baba’s frostbitten hands in his own and held it, careful not to rub against the damaged skin. For a few minutes he just sat there, trying to convey strength via telepathy into Baba’s body. It was Saejima’s fault that Baba had almost died; Baba was shorter than Saejima, so Saejima might have put him in front on the snowmobile. And after the crash, Saejima should have defeated that bear faster, saved his energy for searching for Baba -

A creak on the floorboards announced Okudera’s arrival behind Saejima. Saejima didn’t take his eyes off Baba’s face: the peaceful expression, the brush of dark eyelashes against his cheeks. Saejima couldn’t wait for him to wake up and show life, for him to smile or for his brow to furrow in thought.

“He should pull through,” Okudera said. “Suzuki found him just in time.” The last sentence was said with a little bit of pride evident in the tone, pride in his partner’s skill.

“Yeah,” Saejima said. “I don’t know how to thank you two enough. By rights you shoulda just called up Abashiri to take us back. But I’m grateful.”

“Oh, well...” Okudera said. “We don’t have a phone, so...” He laughed. Then, “Suzuki,” he called over his shoulder, moving back to his fireside cushion, “Come eat something.”

Suzuki - now wearing a black zip-up fleece that was much too big for him - came over and sat down stiffly, his mouth set tight with the sternness of a person concealing pain. “Not really hungry,” he mumbled.

“I know,” Okudera said, rubbing his shoulder. “I know. Just please eat? It’s after lunchtime. And you’ve been through a lot.”

With a grunt Suzuki shook off Okudera’s hand and bent forward to serve a small bowl of stew. Okudera sat down comfortably beside him and filled up his own bowl when Suzuki was done.

“You should eat, too, Saejima,” Okudera said around a mouthful of food. “It’s even better now. It gets more tender the longer you simmer it. Right, Sa- Suzuki?”

“Yes,” Suzuki said briefly before continuing to eat in silence.

With reluctance Saejima turned away from Baba’s prone form and faced the fire. He accepted a bowl of stew and chopsticks from Okudera.

“How’s Suzuki-han?” he asked, judging that it would be more productive to ask Okudera than Suzuki himself.

“He’s a tough bastard,” Okudera said fondly. “He’ll be fine. Right, Suzuki?”

Suzuki just grunted again.

“Though I guess he won’t be as pretty from now on-” Okudera went to wipe a thumb alongside one of the gashes on Suzuki’s cheek, but Suzuki flinched away.

“Stop it,” he hissed at Okudera.

Okudera drew away, looking hurt and offended. Suzuki turned to Saejima.

“Saejima,” he said. “You escaped from Abashiri. What were you in for?”

“He was in for assault,” Okudera said, definitely sounding annoyed.

“Oh?” Suzuki said coldly, still directing his attention at Saejima. “What kind of assault?”

“Brawlin’, I guess,” Saejima said. He couldn’t remember the details of what precisely he had agreed to get nailed on. “I got into a lotta fights on the street.”

“And what about your friend there? Baba?”

Saejima paused. “That ain’t my place to say,” he said. “I’ll just tell you that he went in young, when he was just twenty, and he wasn’t actin’ of his own volition, really.”

Unexpectedly Okudera’s face lit up. “He’s a yakuza?” he asked excitedly. “He did a hit for the yakuza, right?” He pulled excitedly on Suzuki’s sleeve. “A hit for the yakuza, Suzuki!”

Again Suzuki shook him off with a growl of frustration. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

Okudera deflated, but only a little. “Well, it’s interesting, because-”

“-Well, this stew sure hit the spot-” Suzuki said loudly.

“-We’re yakuza too! Or, we were.”

“For fuck’s sake!” Suzuki cried, banging his bowl down on the floor. “Okudera, what is the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter with you?” Okudera shot back. “You haven’t been this wound up for years, you’re giving me war flashbacks to when you were fucking-”

“Enough!” Suzuki said. “Enough! Fucking enough!” And then, dangerously polite, “Okudera, could we speak outside, please?” He stood up and left.

Saejima, who had been following the exchange with the enraptured bafflement of a dog at a baseball game, watched the door slide shut with a bang.

“Uh, sorry about that, Saejima,” Okudera said, rising to his feet. “The wife is being pissy again. I’d better deal with it. Let’s show each other our tattoos later, yeah?” Without waiting for an answer he followed Suzuki outside.

the end, for now

thank you for reading. please let me know what you thought, especially any questions you have - theres a lot here that is not stated overtly so im interested to know if its coming across properly. im not sure where or how far ill go with this WIP but i wrote it up because i came up with the whole thing one night while i couldnt sleep, and since it existed it would be a shame not to instantiate it in writing and throw it at some people..

[whereflowersbloom]

Father by accident

Richard Grayson had everything any man could want, a stable and well remunerated job at Wayne Enterprises, working with his adoptive father: Bruce Wayne, a deluxe and splendid apartment with a premier location at The Arch building, his black new flying spur Bentley, more money than he could spend. Yes, Dick Grayson had everything, except for a romantic relationship and happiness. Something was missing and he had no idea what it was. When Richard Grayson arrived in the Land of the Thunder Dragon just about four days before, it never crossed his mind, never in his wildest, irrational thoughts it occurred to him, his life would be completely turned around by adopting a baby. A baby, he found during his morning run, let alone while he was in a business trip in a foreign country.

Dick Grayson was in Thimphu, Bhutan for work, closing a deal with NGN Technologies, representing Wayne Enterprises, technically he was accompanying Tim, his adoptive youngest brother, a prodigy gifted with an inherent business sense and unbeatable instinct, who was in charge of handling the negotiations, reaching an agreement. He was only here to supervise the details and clear his mind, after his recent breakup with Barbara Gordon. Dick would always pretend that he’s fine, after his breakup with Barbara, and that he’s moved on already. But of course, Tim knew better than that, not mentioning anything about women or the name Barbara.

There were minor specifications to arrange before signing the contract, though it shouldn’t take more than a day or two, knowing Tim. He wasn’t too strict with the schedule and let Dick have free time to explore the foreign land. Bhutan. Thimphu, it was a rather small city for a capital. It had several great hikes and fertile valleys, with green and tall trees, blue rivers and mountains spread south-north along river Thimphu Chu, offering a breathtaking view.

Dick decided to start his day with his usual morning run, to stretch his aching muscles.

He quickly acclimated to the cold weather of the Bhutanese capital. January may be the coldest month of the year, but the stunning Himalayan scenery and the bright clear days made it worth it. He also learned rapidly the paths and ways of the city so he wouldn’t need to look at a map or his phone while on his run, thanks to Bruce who taught to be prepared for anything. Nonetheless, nothing could have Prepared him for the enormous surprise awaiting him that particular morning. On the fifth day of their stay in Bhutan, he could practically move around the city without looking at street signs or maps. Perks of being a fast learner. He easily acclimated to his route, and he figured it was easy enough to remember anyway.

Dzong Park’s entrance was beautifully decorated, soft-fallen snow graced the walls and the buthan cypress trees, hues of blue and purple which were gently brushing unto white reigned winter tim, atmosphere calm and peaceful, but it was practically empty especially at six in the morning. There was hardly any sound. He’d been running through the park for the past three days though, so it’s not like this surprised him anymore considering the icy winds.

When Richard goes on running, he usually wears earphones, however he has opted to not use them and enjoy the quietude of the park. And he supposed it was lucky he didn’t, because while he was on his run, he was interrupted when he heard a small cry.

The northern wind rustled his hair gently, whispering, trying to tell him something, and that was the moment his life completely.

He stopped, momentarily shocked by the noise, looking around for the source of the sound. The park was undeniably empty. No one was supposed to be there, but the small cries persisted. Then he decided to close his eye and concentrate on the direction of said sound, in order to follow it, because even anywhere, he could recognize that unmistakable sound, and when he finally found the source of the incessant cries, he was both grateful and regretful at the same time that he did. Grateful in a sense of ‘Thank god, this baby wouldn’t have survived another hour on this place’, it was cold and frosty, and regretful in a sense because then, Richard had the responsibility of having to take care of how to go about it.

Richard Grayson had no idea what to do, utterly dumbfounded. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, when he looked at the source of the small cries that interrupted his morning run. A baby wrapped in a light green blanket was in a woven basket, and the baby was crying loudly. He knelt down and saw a piece of paper sticking out of its blanket, and when he took it to read it, it was in a language he assumed was similar to Chinese.

The air was so cold and damp that the chill reached deep into the young man and clung to his bones. What was he supposed to do? A baby. Oh mighty Lord.

Right then, he had a choice: he could leave, and proceed with his morning run and pretend he never noticed the baby at all. That was a complete lie. He could never leave an abandoned baby on his own. Bruce had taken him in after the unfortunate death of both his parents, how could he give his back to a baby who could possibly be in the same position. His other choice, a more sensible and reasonable option: he could call authorities and risk being late at meeting before signing the contract, because dealing with the officials who will be asking about how he found the baby, he figured would take more than a few hours, or who might have left the baby, and he doesn’t exactly speak Chinese or this strange language they spoke in the land of the Thunder dragon. What had Tim called it, Dzongka? He didn’t speak it. At all.

Not wasting any more time, he pulled his phone out and dialed a familiar number.

“I haven’t had my first cup of coffee yet. This better be important, Dick.” A sleepy voice responded on the line. His earlier anxiety did not fade, contrary, it increased.

Swallowing hard, Dick turned his attention back to the baby in the basket. “Hey Timbo, I need your help.” He began nervously as he ruffled dark locks, the baby’s cries seemed to have quietened down when it saw another human’s presence. He couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. Don’t get attached, Richard. He faltered, worry tightening his features. “Do you speak Chinese or Dzongka? Whatever language they speak in this country.”

“Bold of you to assume Bruce would send me on a business negotiation trip unready.” Tim answered and Dick rolled his eyes at his sarcastic comment. His younger brother took a deep breath before he continued speaking. “I had enough time to get familiar with the language, but I cannot say confidently I speak it fluidly. Why? Please don’t tell me you got into trouble and you need me to speak with Bhutanese officers.”

Silence. Dick remained quiet, obviously at a loss for words.

Weighting the words in his mind, Richard mustered courage to explain the rare situation. “No. I’m in Dzong park, out for a morning run, as usual.” He paused to lick his lips. “But I found an abandoned baby while I was running.”

“You what? ” Tim incredulously asked, not sure he had heard the right word, and Dick heard the sound of liquid spilling on the other end of the line, so he figured the shock must have made Tim spill his precious coffee. “I’m sorry, did you say you found a what?”

“A baby.” Dick repeated.

“That’s what I thought.” Tim said still stupefied and Dick let out a weary sigh, wondering what would get Tim to snap out of it. “Caffeine isn’t damaging my hearing. A baby?” He asked in absolute bewilderment.

Which part of baby was too complicated for Timothy Jackson Drake, the genius Wayne heir, to comprehend.

“Yes. A baby, Tim.” Dick said in as gentle a tone as he can muster, blue eyes glued to the small baby.

“You mean...as in a Homo Sapiens offspring?” Tim faltered on the words as he struggled to calculate the probability of an scenario where his adoptive older brother came across an abandoned baby while running.

Dick snapped, feeling a bit exasperated himself. “Tim, I seriously need your help with this problem. But, yes, a real, breathing tiny human.” He exclaimed impatiently, raising his voice, tone nearly dry as he answered Tim’s question.

“Where are you?” Regaining composure while processing the information, Tim asked for his brother’s whereabouts, feeling the very beginning of a headache brewing, pulsing sharply at his temples. Cursing quietly as he got dressed in a rush.

“Dzong park. Listen, use my tracker to find me. I’m about four miles from the hotel we are staying in.” Bouncing on the tips of his toes, Richard couldn’t seem to stay still, hot Adrenaline rushing through his veins.

A few breathy grunts were all that heralded Tim’s distress at the unexpected event. “I’ll call the authorities. Dick, stay exactly where you are. We are already tangled in this mess, and mess was not in the agenda.” His brother hung up before Dick could assure him he wouldn’t go anywhere without the baby not until the authorities arrived at least.

But Dick took a single look at the small baby, who had opened his almond-shaped eyes, the baby was a boy, with bright green eyes resembling emeralds, open wide and looking at him. Dick was immediately captivated. He adjusted the blanket and found that the baby’s hair was as dark as the night, naturally tanned skin that appeared to have been kissed by the sun itself. He was perfect. This child was the cutest little thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

And something, something he couldn’t put into words tugged in his heart. It would hurt like hell to let go of his child. Let go of something that was not his. It would tear out his heart, his bones if he let anything happen to this baby boy.

Looking at him closely, he would be about two months old, maybe, and he looked healthy and well-fed. Did his mother have a change of heart and left him here alone? He grabbed the note once again and started at it, inspected it, hoped that any English translation would be present below the Strange writing. There was only one word he could find to translate with the help of his smartphone. Damian.

A cold wind passed and the baby shivered slightly, in that moment Richard took the baby in his arms, wrapping the soft blanket around the baby’s body again, protecting his fragile body from the gelid breeze as his cheeks turned lightly pink.

Dick felt a connection, one he couldn’t quite explain, but it was there, and it’s connecting him to the baby. No. Damian. Damian was what was missing.

This is a WIP I comptely forgot about but here’s. Chapter kinda??

Single dad Dick Grayson, raising baby Damian 👀👀

@sofiii @wingedskyes @chromium7sky @deepbreadlover