#anyway. i drew him with bracelets this time. and the fabric he's holding is a reference to the one he gave ango in the light novel

[viscerism]

" and as you stumble through your last crusade,

will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays? "

[yourlocalmaraudersbabe]

Helloooo! How are you? I really like your fics! <3 Can i request some headcanons for young!Sirius? Or maybe kid!Sirius? How do you think he was like? What if he and Y/n were best friends? Would he go to her for comfort when his parents are nasty with him? Sorry for my horrible English🤡 still struggling with it.. (maybe that's why i read so many fics😂) Best wishes!

“I'm starting to think that we deserve each other”

Summary: Headcanons of Sirius and eventually confessing feelings

Pairing: Sirius x Muggleborn!reader (it’s literally mentioned like one time)

Warnings: swearing, angst, parent/family issues (?)

A/N: Ahh hi anon! Thanks so much for sending this in, I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it :)))) Ahhh but this was also a little different style of writing than I usually do so let me know how you guys feel about it! I’m also just like, obviously in love with Sirius Black so um, they get into a little bit at the end and confess some things :=) Ooo, as always, send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist! I also should let you know that I wrote this very late at night so the logistics and grammar might be shit

Word Count: 2054

Masterlist + Characters and ships I write for

Requests are always open <3

I have more time since it’s now summer so please send them in!! :)

Reminder that I do not support jkr. Do not interact if you do.

It was well known throughout your first years at Hogwarts that you and Sirius did not get along. He honestly annoyed the shit out of you everyday. He came from a rich pureblood family and you were a muggleborn, so anyone could see how the two of you clashed there.

All of the professors were completely done with you and Sirius’s antics. It started off with Sirius somehow managing to turn your hair green during the first flying lesson that the Gryffindors had. “Hey y/n, your hair is amazing! Didn’t think you could pull off the green!” a peer had spoken to you just before mounting your broom.

Sirius broke out into a nearly uncontrollable laughter and got a detention for it. But of course, none of that stopped you from getting back at him. Even just the simplest of pranks had gotten the job done.

There was one prank at the start of second year that earned you and Sirius a month’s worth of detention with Slughorn. He basically had the two of you as his personal assistants. It was honestly torture. But there were moments when he would step away from his classroom to talk to another professor, or slip away into his office to plan the next day’s lesson, and it would leave you and Sirius alone.

The two of you gave in and finally had a conversation with each other. It wasn’t much and it was very awkward, but seeing as this was your first day out of a month’s long sentence of detention, someone to talk with didn’t sound too bad.

And that was what blossomed a very chaotic friendship between the two of you. Having to suffer together was what drew the connection. You two eventually planned your own little pranks against other people.

Despite everything in your younger years of being at Hogwarts, Sirius was your closest friend. You could maybe go as far as to call him your best friend, but you’d never say that to his face, it’d add to his already huge ego.

You ate nearly every meal with him. You’d practically drag him into the library to study. He mentioned something about doing well in school for his parents, so that’s what you’d help him with.

Though the two of you quickly learned that it’s very hard to focus in each other’s presence.

You taught him how to braid hair. He practiced using yours. “Would you stay still, y/n?”

“I’m trying! You’re the one yanking me back and forth, Sirius.”

From that point after, you’d sit in between his legs on the floor as he sat on the couch.

He got you sucked into quidditch and nearly got you to try out for the team. “I think it’d be fun having you on the team!”

“I think that’s your way of saying you want to spend more time with me.”

“Of course,” SIrius shook his head no.

One day he saw someone in the hall walk by with eyeliner and he demanded that the two of you try putting it on yourselves.

This ultimately got you in trouble for staying up way too late, laughing at how silly you both looked in the prefect bathrooms. Lily would allow you in saying “This is going to get my badge taken from me, I swear.”

You two eventually got back to studying after Sirius received some notes from his parents.

You caught on quickly that he didn’t have the best relationship regarding his family.

It was actually a little difficult being friends with Sirius at first. It was very hard for him to just be vulnerable and talk, but by fourth year, you understood where he came from and didn’t push for anything. You listened to him the very few times when he would make small little notes of his family, or talked about his brother while passing him in the hall.

Your conversations were more so filled with random things that only really made sense to the two of you. Any outsider would’ve thought you two were completely crazy.

By fifth year, you were looking at Sirius in a whole different light and you hated it. You wanted to be way more than friends and didn’t know what to do with yourself. You started to avoid him. This was the worst and best decision ever. It’s still debatable.

While the rest of your friends were taking a little day to Hogsmeade, and while you were still on a streak of pretty much avoiding Sirius, you slipped off from the courtyard, taking a less used corridor towards the library.

Here, you found Sirius with his shoulders shaking, head in his hands, and your heart shattered. If you were feeling this, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what he must feel like. He didn’t pay any mind to his surroundings until you slid down the wall next to him, placing your hand on his shoulder.

He didn’t even have to look to know that it was you. He leaned into your shoulder while you brought your arm around him, quiet sobs escaping from his body.

He always kept parts of him, especially these emotions so closed off, that it honestly was a little surprising to see him like this. “Sere, tell me what’s wrong,” you whispered.

“I- um, it’s nothing. I just got a letter from home and it’s-” he broke down again.

At this point you let your legs stretch in front of you. He was still under your arms until he just let himself go. He let himself feel. And relax. And he understood that it’s okay to cry. And be vulnerable. And that you were safe to talk to about anything. He hugged you full on. He clung on tight as he cried. And man, you were fucked. This wasn’t helping any sort of feelings you were trying to suppress by being here in his presence. It honestly nearly broke you. You wanted to cry for him. Scream for him. Go off on his parents for him. You wanted to protect him from all that could ever hurt him this way.

He talked about everything that has happened up until the letter and stammered off his explanation with one final point. “A-and I’ve missed spending time with you. It’s like you’ve been avoiding me,” he mumbled into the thick air. He was laying down against you with your fingers in his hair. “It’s like I- I’m missing a part of me. Like we’re so close I couldn’t possibly imagine my life without you.”

You stumbled over your words, trying to find out what to say. ‘If only he knew’ you wanted to groan out into the air. “I’m sorry,” was all you could say, tears stinging your eyes while you blinked them back, hugging him tightly.

From that moment, the two of you had bought bracelets at Hogsmeade and spelled them to change a certain color for when the other wanted to talk, or simply just needed to be with the other. They were simple fabric ones, something you both liked and wore everyday.

Most of the time Sirius came to talk to you about his parents. Which was new considering he was a little closed off before.

You were there if he needed to cry. You would hold him if he needed a hug. You would laugh with him when he didn’t want to be the only one. You were there for him for everything.

There was one night that was really bad. His parents basically sent a letter saying not to come home in the future. You were supposed to meet him in the library yet he wasn’t there.

After asking around, you found him in the Gryffindor common room when it was far too late for you to even be out. His face was tear stained and his eyes were an irritated pink. Though he didn’t seek you in the first place, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, burying himself in your comfort.

By sixth year it was supposedly “Painfully obvious you two were basically in love with each other” Remus would say every time you gave up a library visit to be with Sirius. Or James would very blatantly leave you both to carry out specific parts of a prank together. Lily would just leave you and Sirius alone together whenever she got the chance, really.

One particular Gryffindor win for Sirius was crashed by some Slytherins who came without any good intentions. It was soon discovered that there was veritaserum in the drinks that, of course, you and your friends had already enjoyed.

All of this prompted you to leave the party. You left with a big group of people, Remus, James, Peter, Lily, Mary, Marlene, all off to the grounds, trying to avoid any trouble. You stayed back with Remus and Sirius while the rest walked ahead, talking about the most random of things, like how Remus wants to ride a unicorn. He eventually sped up with the rest of the group, claiming he was going to ride a unicorn, properly drunk. “Mhm, yeah. You go have fun with that Remus,” Sirius called to him as he stumbled ahead.

You and Sirius couldn’t go as far as to say you were drunk, but definitely tispy. You walked over to a small tree and sat yourself under it, laying back against it. Sirius did the same thing except he leaned his head on your shoulder and you leaned yours on top of his. It was a sweet moment as he mindlessly played with a thread hanging from your robes.

The veritaserum didn’t bother the two of you much, you were honest with each other most of the time anyways. Well, it didn’t bother you much until Regulus and a few of his friends stood over you, making fun of how close you and Sirius were. You kept your mouths shut for as long as you could. “What it’s not like you like each other. Do you, Sirius?” Regulus pushed.

“I actually like y/n a lot. She’s always there for me and—” Sirius slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

“Hmm, and I don't suppose you feel the same way, y/n?”“

“I have feelings for Sirius,” you blurted out right as Regulus and his friends walked away.

Sirius looked over to you, smiling like an idiot. You leaned your head back against the tree, covering your face with your hands just before he pulled them away. He squeezed them in a comforting manner and asked why you hadn’t said anything before. “Because you’re such a great person, like you deserve the world and I don’t think I’d be enough a-and I hate that people keep asking questions because I’m on this stupid veritaserum that’s making me look like an idiot

He cut you off with a kiss, effectively shutting you up. The kiss was rushed at first before turning into something exploding with passion that you didn’t even know you needed until now.

“Well, you’re a beautiful idiot. Because, as said before,” he mumbled the last part, returning to his normal tone of voice. “I like you too. A-and I guess that you could tell me that I’m an idiot because—”

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked me, Sirius?”

“My entire life is a mess and I have too many problems and you’re always there for me to begin with, I’d take up too much of your time if we actually ended up dating. And you’re perfect and I look like absolute shit all the time. Just as you said you deserve the world but as I’m saying all this, I’m starting to think,” he trailed off searching your eyes for words. “I'm starting to think that we deserve each other,” he finished in a soft voice.

“I think we deserve each other too,” you grabbed his face gently, kissing him.

That night is now the day you and Sirius started dating, one of the most memorable days of your lives.

You never left breakfast in the Great Hall without stealing a kiss.

Or a piece of bacon from his plate.

There’d be some nights where you could sneak away and fall asleep with him peacefully and everything seemed alright.

[lesdemonium]

For My Own

Rating: G Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 1404 Summary:   Geralt and Jaskier spend their first Yule together AN: this is a prompt for the @geraskierholidayexchange for kate/jaskierofrivia. i hope you enjoy!!

This is a combination of the prompts: 1. First Christmas together as a couple, spending it alone just the two of them (canon) 2. First time Geralt has ever actually celebrated Christmas, because it’s the first time he’s ever wanted to (because he finally gets to spend it with Jaskier) (Canon) 4. Spend Christmas together in the most exclusive, expensive inn in all of Novigrad, with a snowstorm raging outside, pressing expensive jewellery into (or onto 😜) each other’s hands(only sort of for the last two)

read on ao3

“Gods, it’s beautiful out.”

Geralt grunted noncommittally and Jaskier turned away from his look out the window to raise an eyebrow at the witcher. He was sat upon the bed, grinding some herbs to replenish a potion, and Jaskier rolled his eyes. Really, he should have said something about Geralt grinding herbs on their bed, but Jaskier supposed he could pick his battles. At least he wasn’t coming back from a hunt and leaving monster entrails all over the sheets. Again.

The inn they were staying at wasn’t anything particularly spectacular. Jaskier had angled them toward a better one, one with an actual comfortable bed and the ability to take a bath, because Geralt had made an offhand comment about snow possibly coming in, and Jaskier had learned long ago to trust Geralt when he said these things. Lo and behold, now it was far too snowy for them to continue south to warmer weather.

“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, sitting beside Geralt with a heavy sigh, and reaching out to take the items from Geralt’s hands. “You’re supposed to be relaxing. With me. Enjoying the day.”

“Not much to enjoy about getting snowed in,” Geralt answered, raising an eyebrow. “We were supposed to be on the road today.”

Jaskier’s second sigh was loud and dramatic, and the longer it went on the more even Geralt couldn’t hide his small smile. Jaskier put the pestle and mortar on the table, and draped himself over the bed, his head in Geralt’s lap. “Geralt, you are the worst lover I have ever had,” Jaskier whined. “It’s like you do things on purpose just to torment me. Are you being deliberately obtuse? Do you not see the romantic implications of the weather, our togetherness, the time of year?”

Geralt smirked and ran his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “Use your words, Jaskier,” he teased.

Jaskier’s eyes narrowed and he pinched Geralt’s thigh, though through his trousers, he probably hardly felt anything. “We’re snowed in, together, during Yule, our first together I’d like to point out, and you want to do busywork tasks?” Jaskier huffed and crossed his arms. “When you suggested we spend the winter together, I thought there would be some consideration of the novelty of it all, but you are still the same as you ever were. I’m just colder and considerably less fattened up.”

The hand in Jaskier’s hair kept moving, and Jaskier closed his eyes as Geralt began to twist and possibly even braid the strands. If Jaskier had to be honest, he had been enjoying his winter with Geralt. Sure, staying holed up in a court and singing songs to rich nobles and dining on their expensive food was nice, and he missed the comfort of it all. Staying with Geralt, however, had made a peaceful sort of happiness settle within Jaskier. He much preferred this, but if he had his way, the following year they would make much better plans than simply continuing on the Path. Maybe he’d ask after Kaer Morhen, and try to force Geralt’s hand in that direction.

“If you’re missing attention, you could probably go downstairs and play for the others snowed in here,” Geralt answered. There was a smile in his voice. Apparently, this was funny.

“I don’t want their attention,” Jaskier said, opening his eyes again to scowl at the witcher. “I want yours.” He considered Geralt’s face, then felt his own heat up in embarrassment. “Should I have--you don’t even care about Yule, do you? Oh, bollocks. You didn’t even realize it was Yule.” Jaskier sat up. “I didn’t think to ask if you even recognized it or celebrated it or--”

“Jaskier.” Geralt cut him off with a hand at his elbow. “I know it’s Yule.”

“But you didn’t say anything.” Jaskier was well aware he was whining now. He didn’t mean to, but he was a little bit embarrassed and a lot disappointed. “Never mind, just forget it. This time, I cannot blame your lack of communication, because it was my own lack of communication that made for this false start of a conversation.”

Geralt’s fingers slid down to Jaskier’s and lifted Jaskier's arm. Jaskier fixed him with an unimpressed look--he did not want Geralt to try to distract him, mostly because he knew Geralt would succeed--as Geralt pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s knuckles. Then his lips trailed along Jaskier’s skin, stopping only to press a kiss to the back of his hand, then over the veins of his wrist as Geralt turned his hand over, then up his forearm, pushing the fabric of Jaskier’s loose shirt up as he went.

“Geralt, I don’t want you to--” Jaskier started, just as Geralt’s lips pressed against the inside bend of his elbow.

“So you don’t want your gift?” Geralt interrupted.

Jaskier’s eyebrows furrowed and he studied Geralt suspiciously. “I thought you didn’t celebrate Yule.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “No, you decided that when you were rambling,” he shrugged. “My brothers and I usually drink and exchange small, useful gifts. Extra potions, new whetstones, pieces of leather. Things like that. This is my first time… really celebrating it. You didn’t say anything, so I didn’t know if you would want to.”

With a small smile, Jaskier cupped Geralt’s face with his free hand. “Oh, Love. I do. I want to very much. There’s nothing I want more,” he said, with as much sincerity as he could.

“Good.” A moment later, Geralt retrieved something from his pocket, and he took Jaskier’s wrist again. He fumbled for a moment, then pulled away to reveal a thin golden chain around Jaskier’s wrist. It was small, delicate, with tiny yellow gemstones every few centimeters. Jaskier couldn’t help the way his face broke into a wide smile and he trailed the fingers of his other hand over the chain.

“Geralt, it’s beautiful,” he whispered. Jaskier looked up to meet Geralt’s eye and, for once, Geralt looked proud of something he had done. “You don’t get to buy pretty things often, do you? Such a shame. You’re very good at it.”

Now, Geralt’s smile grew sheepish, and to save himself the mortification of answering, Geralt pulled Jaskier in for a kiss with a gentle hand on Jaskier’s jaw. Jaskier wouldn’t complain, though he did finally have to be the one to break the kiss. With a great amount of regret.

“I have something for you, too,” Jaskier said, and stood up to retrieve his bag.

There, at the bottom of his pack, Jaskier had hidden a small box. There was no chance Geralt would go through Jaskier’s bag for anything short of an emergency, but Jaskier had been jumpy about it all week anyway. He removed the box from the bag, then turned to Geralt. For once in his life, Jaskier was feeling shy. Maybe even a bit embarrassed. No, definitely embarrassed. Incredibly embarrassed. He held out the box anyway.

“It’s silly and I know you aren’t really one for--”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, holding up his hand to cut off Jaskier’s ramble before it could begin. Geralt opened the box and stared at the ring on a long chain. The chain was much sturdier than the one Jaskier was now wearing, one that wouldn’t slice through as easily during a hunt. And the ring on the end--

“It’s my signet. So that--so that even when we’re apart, you have a piece of me,” Jaskier said, flushing. He sat down on the bed beside Geralt, but did not look at him. “You aren’t one for jewelry, I know. But I thought you might--”

Geralt didn’t answer, but he slipped the chain over his head and under his shirt. He took Jaskier’s hand and pressed Jaskier’s palm to the bump of the ring, just over his heart, just beside his medallion. Geralt let go, but still Jaskier lingered, and drew closer. His hand was trapped between them as they kissed, long and lingering, and Geralt wrapped a warm arm around Jaskier’s waist.

“I love you,” Jaskier whispered against Geralt’s lips.

Geralt hummed, ran his thumb over Jaskier’s bracelet, and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Jaskier’s lips again. “I love you,” he answered.

The snow continued to fall outside the window. But even Geralt, later, after the sun had set and they had started in on some spiced spirits, could admit that it was beautiful.

[f0xfordcomma]

re:union (kataang week 2021) DAY SIX

prompt: tease

re:union

chapter six: his hands (again)

rating: T*

*note: I updated the rating because this chapter is ever so slightly ~ahem~ suggestive in places

words: 1338

summary: “Exactly!” She jabbed him playfully in the chest with a finger. “I was clearly trying to help you out! And you’re welcome for dealing with Zhu, and for providing you with a much needed cold shower.”

read it on ao3

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“Get back here, Aang!” Katara was dripping wet and propelling herself on a wave across Yue Bay in pursuit of her screaming sparring partner.

Aang, in a similar state of saturation, produced a small tornado to shoot himself up into the air and out of the way of her water blast as she neared him. He almost missed the chance to evade her attack, unable to see through his tears of laughter.

“That’s cheating!” She hollered up at him, her hair whipping around her face from the force of the flurry, her hands planted on her hips, and her lips pouting out in protest.

“It’s just self-defense! I was being hunted by a crazed waterbender!”

“Oh shut up, you deserved it.” She made a show of wringing the water out of her hair with her hands (even though she could have used her bending to quickly dry it) and maintained scowling eye-contact with him while the droplets rejoined the sea. “You messed up my hair.”

“You messed up mine first.”

“You don’t have hair!”

“Well, no. But still! You started it!”

“Oh hush, you needed a shower anyway.”

“Did I really smell that bad?”

“Appa smells better.”

“I was planning to freshen up… thanks for the save with Councilman Pointy Nose back there, by the way. I just got a little caught up with everything and then my shoulder and… well, here we are.” Aang lowered himself back down to the water and stood in front of Katara, shrugging in feigned composure.

“Exactly!” She jabbed him playfully in the chest with a finger. “I was clearly trying to help you out! And you’re welcome for dealing with Zhu, and for providing you with a much needed cold shower.”

Her cheeks burned. His burned too. The insinuation had been an accident, but Aang couldn’t exactly deny the veracity of the statement. Waterbending practice with Katara had always been one of his favorite things. And it had everything to do with the push and pull and peace of the water and absolutely nothing to do with Katara’s waterbending outfit (or lack thereof) and the way that her hips swayed and her hair swished and her lips puckered and her hands… it had nothing to do with any of that.

Aang quickly averted eye-contact, worried that Katara could read the thoughts running rampant through his mind. He took her hand, which had gone slack on his chest, in his own and brought it down to her side, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry I ruined your hair. C-Can I help fix it for you?”

For someone who didn’t have any hair of his own, Aang was surprisingly skilled with the stuff. When they were kids, still schlepping around the world on Appa and hiding out from the fire nation, they’d sometimes pass the time by practicing braids.

Katara had mastered a wide assortment of braids and knots, thanks to her childhood spent with women and fishing nets. First, she taught them to him using strings or reeds or fabric scraps, whatever they could find laying around.

He had taken to the act easily, creating an impressive collection of woven jewelry. Sometimes, they would hand them out to the people that they met on their journeys.

He made her necklace in secret, searching for the most fragrant grasses around their campsite and practicing the most complex braid sequence that she had taught him. He made seventeen imperfect necklaces before settling on the one that he finally ended up giving to her. Perhaps, handing the rejects out to the girls in Makapu village hadn’t been his best idea.

“Can’t you guys find anything better to do?” Sokka had complained once, while digging through a saddle bag full of bracelets in search of some squirreled away seal-jerky. “This is getting excessive.” After their sojourn in the great divide, the storage bags on Appa’s saddle where they’d kept all of the twisted trinkets had been mysteriously emptied.

They moved on to hair. Appa was an exceptional pet for someone learning how to braid. For a time, his entire hide was covered in a variety of plaits. Sometimes they collected flowers to weave in. Appa’s hair became a tapestry of their travels. Flowers from Omashu and Chin and the foggy swamp and Gaoling detailed where they had been. Sokka, though prone to some grumbling at how effeminate it made the “big and burly” bison look, did appreciate the way the floral fragrance nearly disguised his smell, nearly.

Then, Appa had been taken, and Aang’s hands had gotten anxious. One night Katara watched him absentmindedly pick at the skin on his thumb, dig the dirt out from under his nails, wring his fingers together until they were red, tap a stuttering tune on his knee. He needed something to do with his hands. She pulled her hair out of its braid and sat in front of him wordlessly, letting him brush his fingers through it, plait and unplait and replait sections of it. His hands were hesitant at first, drawing back with a start if he accidentally grazed her scalp, her ear, her neck. Over time, though, they both grew comfortable with the closeness. It became normal to him, routine. Run, hide, bend. Eat, sleep, meditate. Play with Katara’s hair until my hands stop shaking.

“That—actually that would be great.” Katara’s scarlet blush deepened as she babbled on. “I was kind of wanting to do something special with it for tonight anyway and Toph isn’t exactly the ideal girlfriend to have when it comes to hair and it's too late to make an appointment and—”

“Katara.” He was still holding her hand, he squeezed it.

“Hmm?”

“Shall we?”

“Oh! Right!” She allowed him to lead her out of the water and toward a shady spot along the bay.

She sat down. He squatted behind her, taking care not to fall into old habits and allow his legs to wrap around hers, settling her into his lap, the way that they would sit when they would do this before.

His fingers were gentle as they brushed the tangles out, bent the lingering water from her locks. He separated her water-born waves into four chunks, braiding each in turn, then wrapping the sections together into a detailed top-knot. He’d left her signature hair loopies out, and they now dangled limply around her face while the rest of her hair was pulled back.

“Can you face me, real quick?”

Gingerly, Katara lifted from her seat and positioned herself on her own knees in front of Aang. Their eyes parallel with one another. Their breaths catching simultaneously.

With trembling hands, Aang reached up to braid the sections of hair around her face and slowly secured them into the bun, as well. He surveyed his handiwork. She closed her eyes against his gaze.

“It needs something…”

A flash of yellow, a sprig of daylilies growing along the beach, caught his eye. He stood to retrieve a bloom and felt her eyes following him as he went.

When he returned, she was standing, watching him with a fond smile on her face and one hand gently patting her head to survey the detailed hair-do. “Aang, this is beautiful.”

He was in front of her. He towered over her. His hands were warm where they brushed her ear as he stuck the flower into the hair there. “Now it is.”

Grey.

Blue.

She licked her lips. In her mind, there were only clouds.

A pebble hit Aang right between the eyes. He grunted, he drew away from her in pain and confusion.

“Glad to see you missed me, Twinkletoes! Been in town five whole hours and didn’t bother to even say hello. Get your lily-livered asses up here, I was sent to find you. It’s almost time for the feast and ol’ pointy is having a conniption fit about the dumplings, or something.”

Toph chuckled to herself the whole walk back to Republic Square, flanked, on either side, by the quickest heartbeats she’d ever felt.

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In which Aang and Katara tease each other, and I tease YOU. (Mwahahahahaha)

@kataang-week

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter seven

[cake-writes]

Point

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Polyamory

Word Count: 3k

Requested by @thorman-barnes​​: What about Stucky having a crush on one of the newest Avengers (reader)?

I figured I should probably format it properly since it’s longer than my usual drabbles. Enjoy!

The first thing Bucky noticed about you was your smile, which lit up your face in such a way that the breath caught in his throat. Despite the stark, fluorescent lighting in the hallway, you were gorgeous, and the laugh that followed was even more so as you shoved Sam in the shoulder with a certain playful familiarity. 

You were friends, it looked like.

That was when Sam spotted him standing there like an idiot, and he introduced you with a grin – prefixed your name with ‘Captain,’ which made you snort. It wasn’t very ladylike, but Bucky didn’t care. He thought it was cute. It suited you.

“Come on, Sam, it’s ‘Major,’ now. Haven’t these good ol’ boys taught you a little respect?” you teased, nodding over to Bucky who was apparently one of the 'good ol' boys' you were talking about. Sam made a show of rolling his eyes and despite your casual demeanour with him, you addressed Bucky a bit more kindly, “Sergeant Barnes, right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stammered.

Smooth.

It caught him off guard, someone using his title from the Army. All anyone called him these days was the Winter Soldier, but not you. No, instead you directed that beautiful smile right at him and held out your hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sergeant.”

“Bucky,” he corrected, finally regaining his bearings a little as he shook your hand. Your handshake was surprisingly firm, much firmer than he would have expected from a woman. Then again, women these days were far more empowered than he was used to, not that that was a bad thing. It was just a new dynamic for him to adjust to along with everything else.

“Well then, Bucky,” you said, eyes twinkling with mischief, “You wanna help me teach our boy here some manners?”

Oh, he liked you already.

The first thing Steve noticed about you was your ass.

He didn’t mean to, honest, he didn't – just happened to round the corner into the plane hangar at the exact same time you bent over to pick up the file you’d dropped. He certainly wasn’t the type to really look at, let alone ogle a woman until he felt some kind of romantic way about her, but Christ, did you have a fantastic ass. The dark blue catsuit on your body almost seemed tailored to fit, enhancing every single one of your curves.

Any other day he would have helped you collect the strewn papers, well-mannered as he usually was, but he couldn’t help but stare. You must have just gotten back from a mission if the torn fabric on your thigh was any indication; not to mention he could smell the gunpowder residue on your clothing, coupled with the slightest hint of your sweat and inwardly he cursed his enhanced senses for it. You smelled so good.

When you stood back up again, papers in hand, you spun around on your heel and made to leave the hangar. The little gold oak leaf on your collar glinted in the muted sunlight: a Major, then, but he didn’t know what branch. Air Force, maybe. You were wearing blue. What drew his attention away from the fact that you technically outranked him was your hair – glossy, just like your lips, he found, when they curled into a smirk.

You’d caught him staring.

His face was beet red before he even had a chance to introduce himself. Not that he really needed to, because he was in uniform and you were already holding your hand out for a handshake. He didn’t fail to hear the amusement in your voice when you offered him your name.

“Steve,” he responded, swallowing thickly when he realized exactly how small your hand was in his, how nice it felt. “Steve Rogers.”

“I’ve heard good things about you, Captain.” The way your eyes trailed down his body for the briefest of seconds before they snapped back up to his made him nervous, but not so much as when you added, “Very good things.”

At that, his throat went bone dry.

To say that the mission was awkward would have been an understatement.

It was unplanned, a hostage situation: rescue a group of rookie SHIELD agents who had royally fucked up. The only people on hand were the three of you, unless you counted Bruce, who was in the middle of a time-sensitive experiment in the lab and he really didn’t want a week’s worth of meticulous work to go down the drain.

In your opinion, the mission should have taken priority, but you told him that you’d manage somehow. If nothing else, Bruce Banner could pull off some serious puppy dog eyes. You didn't realize until after you got in the elevator that you'd screwed yourself.

You found Steve and Bucky in the gym. That was where they usually were, either there or in the kitchen because their metabolisms were ridiculous and they were in a perpetual state of eating. You’d been working with them for about half a year now, and you still didn’t understand how they managed to get anything else done.

“We’ve got a mission,” you said abruptly, throwing a couple of gym towels at them.

Steve caught his at the last minute with an easy, “Thanks, doll,” a pet name that never failed to make your cheeks flush. You were sure he did it on purpose, because there was always a distinct twinkle in his eyes that let you know he’d noticed your reaction to it.

Just like now.

Bucky’s caught him right in the face, however, because he’d been in the middle of a deadlift and his hands were occupied. He dropped the barbell with an annoyed grunt and pulled the towel off of his head, giving you a look – the look, the one that conveyed exactly how much he appreciated your bullshit. Hint: he didn’t, but the playful smile on his lips made your heart warm.

That was how you ended up on the Quinjet with them. You’d been on missions with them before, of course, but never just the three of you. There was always at least one other person there, or just one of them. Never like this.

It was awkward as hell because you’d been attracted to Steve and Bucky since you met them, and as obvious as you tried to be about it, they just wouldn’t take the hint despite how much they flirted right back.

Steve was subtle. He snuck glances at you every now and then, called you ‘doll’ and ‘sweetheart’ so casually, slipped sweet little notes into your duffel bag right before a (planned) mission. Sometimes, you found them and they lifted your spirits. Other times, you found them at the worst possible moment, like a couple weeks ago when Tony yanked it out of your hands and read it out loud to everyone on the jet, the two of them included.

You didn’t talk to Tony for a week after that. Or Steve. It was embarrassing as hell, passing notes back and forth like the two of you were in high school when you were supposed to be a professional. You still had yet to live it down.

Of course, his notes never contained anything of real substance. He liked to compliment you – your hair, a new blouse, the bracelet you’d bought yourself for your birthday. You blushed anyway. He also liked to remind you to be careful, or to try out one of the new fighting techniques he’d taught you.

Steve was sweet.

Bucky was just as stupidly obvious as you were. He was handsy with you; liked to touch you, feel you, know you were there, especially after a difficult mission or when either of you had a particularly gruelling day and you absolutely loved it.

Bucky was by no means good at giving massages, but he liked to try, and to his credit he usually managed to work the soreness out of your neck and shoulders. When you returned the favour, he always played into your hands like putty. Made you feel a little proud, actually – proud and turned on, which was a nightmare of a combination in such a relaxed atmosphere.

You were always so relaxed with him.

You often found him in the middle of the night in the living room, kept awake by what you assumed were the horrors of his past and just as often, you stayed with him until the early hours of the morning. More than once, he’d fallen asleep with his head in your lap while you threaded your fingers through his hair.

Bucky put on a tough front, but you knew deep down that he was just as sweet as Steve.

Needless to say, the whole situation was incredibly frustrating.

You were playing a dangerous game, though, and you knew it. They were best friends. Nothing would come between them, not even you as much as you desperately wanted to. That was one reason you never made a move. Another was because they’d been raised in a different time, when it was the man’s job to make the first move. As dumb as it sounded, you didn’t want to emasculate them.

So you made your intentions obvious as hell, but still no dice.

It was a quick flight. You briefed them on the way, running point on the operation because you were the one who’d received the phone call. You'd led plenty of missions in the past, of course, but not here and not with them. Awkward. Nerve-wracking. Uncomfortable. That's what it was.

Even so, it went without a hitch. The four agents you rescued were beyond grateful, but somehow, the flight back was even worse.

One in particular wanted to take you out to dinner as a thank you. You politely declined at least three times, but he just wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer until you made a clear point of taking the plane off autopilot to get away from him. Not only were you way out of his league (not to toot your own horn), but it was late, you were tired, and you already had someone else in your heart.

Two someones.

The Quinjet was tense and quiet until you finally arrived back to the compound. The agents were too busy licking their wounds, so to speak; Steve and Bucky were having a hushed discussion at the back of the plane; and you, well, you were in a mood.

It pissed you off that he hadn’t taken your ‘no’ the first time. How disrespectful. You were an officer in the United States Air Force, for fuck’s sake, and you deserved to be treated with respect. He was just some low-level agent, and it was entirely his fault that you had to sacrifice your Friday night.

Dick.

You worked yourself up so much by the time you got back that you missed the sidelong glance the two boys gave you before they helped the group of agents off the plane and to the medical ward.

You’d be the last to disembark. Because you took point on the mission, it was your responsibility to ensure that everything was just as you’d found it: full tank of fuel, first aid kit replenished, floors clean and tidy. You’d seen Steve run through the checklist plenty of times. Bucky, too. Now it was your turn.

Grumbling to yourself, you dropped some gauze and bandage wrappers into the trash bag in your hands. The agents had been in pretty bad shape, even him, so much that you were going to have to mop the floors after because they’d bled all over the place. Fantastic.

After a quick tidy, you slung the first aid kit – duffel, really – over your shoulder and went to the cabinet in the hangar where the extra supplies were kept. You had to bend over and dig for some of the things you needed, specific sizes of gauze and certain lengths of bandages but you finally found them; and, when you shut the cabinet doors, you nearly jumped out of your own skin.

“Jesus Christ,” you swore, throwing a packet of gauze at Bucky. “Don’t do that!”  

This time, he caught it easily. “What’s got your panties in a knot?”

“Nothing,” you told him, but the angry way you shoved the supplies back into the kit made it pretty obvious that you were lying.

“Sure doesn’t seem like nothing,” Bucky commented dryly.

You frowned at him before you held out your hand, palm facing up. “Give me that.”

His brows rose in amusement. “I’ll give it to you if you tell me.”

What a child.

You rolled your eyes and went to snatch it away yourself, but he held it over your head, taunting you with it. Now, you weren’t exactly tall, but Bucky sure was. He was tall and strong and when you jumped for it, he just held it up even higher.

“God damn it, Bucky,” you cursed. “Give it here.”

“Ask nicely,” he teased, lowering it so that it was within your reach once more.

You groaned. “I’m so not in the mood for this.”

But then you went for it again anyway – except this time, you didn’t realize that he’d brought it much closer to himself until you landed. You wound up having to catch yourself with one hand on his shoulder, otherwise you probably would have smacked heads or something equally as stupid.

“You’re so predictable,” he said, then, and you weren’t sure whether to huff indignantly or ask what he meant.

Inside, though, your heart was pounding, not because of the jumping but because of your close proximity. Something was different. This wasn’t like that relaxing atmosphere on the sofa, either in the middle of the night or with his thumbs massaging deep circles into your shoulders. There was tension, and a hell of a lot of it.

You could feel his body heat through his tac jacket – he always ran hot, and so did Steve – and you felt your cheeks start to burn. You were way too close.

When you went to step away, however, his free arm slid around your waist and he pulled you closer, flush against him. Your breath hitched when you looked up into his eyes: such a beautiful pale blue, normally, but darker than usual.

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly, fingers curling instinctively in the material of his jacket.

“Kissin’ you.”

You didn’t have time to respond before his lips were hot on yours, and you absolutely melted against him. Your other hand came up to grasp at his jacket in a desperate attempt to pull him even closer as his talented mouth worked yours, sending a rush of heat through you straight to your core.

When your hair was gently brushed to the side, it didn’t register at first; only when another pair of lips pressed a kiss to your neck did you suddenly break away, eyes jumping between the two of them in alarm.

“What’s happening right now?” you asked, like an idiot.

“We saw someone flirting with our girl,” Steve told you, one of his large hands slowly sliding down your spine to the small of your back, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “Didn’t like it a whole lot, did we, Buck?”

“Not one bit.” Bucky released you, then, and gave you a gentle push toward Steve. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be shy.”

You stared at Bucky for a moment, flabbergasted, before you finally turned to Steve. The problem was that you did feel shy all of a sudden. You weren’t sure why. Maybe because it was a lot to take in all at once, after you’d convinced yourself that everything had all been an exercise in futility.

Then Steve smiled at you -- sweet and genuine, just like always -- and pulled your hand into his, giving you enough confidence to bury your fingers in his hair and bring him down for a kiss. It was passionate, full of months of pent-up frustration just like the one you’d shared with Bucky. Your body was on fire, burning with need and desire and everything you’d always wanted from the two of them.

When Steve pulled away, you looked up at him in a daze.

“Guess you didn’t read my note,” he said softly.

Your voice was breathy when you spoke again, “What note?”

“I asked you to hang around so we could talk. It’s probably still in your bag.”

Bucky snorted. “Why would she check her bag before she got back to her room?”

That was the same question you were about to ask, but when Steve shot him a pointed look, it all clicked into place.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” you said incredulously, taking a purposeful step away so that your back was pressed up against Bucky’s chest instead – the very same Bucky who slid his arms around you protectively, chuckling a little into your hair.

Steve’s face immediately flushed at your tone.

“I-- I didn’t mean--” he stammered. “I meant for privacy!”

You laughed at that, taking Bucky’s metal hand into one of yours and holding your free one out to Steve. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest; either that, or you were floating on air. Possibly both. “Well, I guess we’ll need some privacy, then, won’t we?”

The only other time you’d seen Steve’s face so beet red was when the first time you met him, and it was just as endearing then as it was now.

He was sweet. Bucky was, too. 

They were yours. 

Both of them.

(If you like my work, please consider donating to my Patreon or my Ko-Fi!)

[kyukun]

Haunted House (OumaSai)

ofc ofc! gOd i love me some spOOpy saiou haha

this is just an au where kichi is nicer lmao cause why not

title: Haunted House

summary: On one particular October evening, the squad all collectively decide to go trick or treating together. Kokichi sees a haunted house along the way and believes it would be the perfect pranking opportunity. 

word count: 1568

~~ prompt starts after cut! ~~

It was Halloween; everywhere and everyone was completely decked out in spooky attire. Many houses along Shuichi’s street had extreme to moderate amounts of Halloween decor, some consisting of just pumpkins and fake gravestones with skeletons and cobwebs to the more extreme houses which had projections of creepy eyes or moving plastic ghouls whom of which would inevitably spook kids. 

His house on the other hand was more on the plain side. He only had some lights strung up with a pot of candy beside their door with a sign that read ‘take one.’ While he knew full well that nobody alive would just take one, he kept it there anyway. He and his friends had been planning to go trick or treating for the last year as high schoolers. 

His uncle had been working on Halloween so he saw no particular reason to stay at home, eventually agreeing to go trick or treating with the group anyway. He waited outside his door, checking the time on his phone. He wore a simple vampire costume. It consisted of a black cape with red fabric on the inside that flared out in the neck, as well as a fluffy white dress shirt and a vest that had gold buttons embroidered on each side. 

He even bought those stupid fake fangs that they hand out in dollar stores with fake blood dripping down his chin. The teeth had begun to hurt him a tad so he decided to take them out before being greeted by a loud shout. 

“Saihara-chan!”

He looked up and saw Kokichi and the rest in their costumes walking toward him. Kaito wore a really… odd Halloween outfit. It was a cowboy suit that exposed his chest which he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at. His eyes shifted down towards Kokichi, his face grew a tad heated at his costume. It was rather scandalous, to be honest.

“Hey guys. Kokichi… what are you wearing?”

He crossed his arms, holding a bright red whip in his right hand. He could see him furrow his eyebrows through the matching red cat mask that covered a bit more than half of his face. “Do you seriously not know who this is? Saihara-chan I’m so disappointed!“ 

Kiibo shook his head, holding a plastic pumpkin in his hand. "Not this again." 

Shuichi raised an eyebrow but remained silent as the group continued to stare away from Kokichi in embarrassment? "I’m Ann from Persona 5! God, Shuichi! You’re the one who I thought would’ve liked this costume more than anyone else. For more reasons than one…” His voice lowered, he moved his arms over Shuichi’s shoulders which incidentally pulled him closer.

His smirk remained, Kokichi drew himself closer now on his tiptoes while Shuichi froze, unable to move as his face heated. “Calm your horny ass down, Cock itchy. Let’s go get some fucking candy!” Kokichi released Shuichi with a sigh, innocently skipping over to Rantaro who wore a simple pirate outfit. The group moved along a few houses not long after.

After about a few solid hours of candy searching, Kokichi noticed something a few houses down. A haunted house. That’s perfect! Halloween is a holiday known for mischief and pranks after all, right? This would be the perfect opportunity to prank everyone. Kokichi halted the group, which drew out a few groans from Kaito and Miu. 

“Let’s go to a haunted house!” He suggested, tugging on Shuichi’s sleeve while the rest stared with their eyebrows raised. He knew full well that if he got Shuichi to tag along, the rest would follow and eventually everyone would go. So all he had to do was guilt trip Shuichi into going. “Shumai, please? This is our last time going trick or treating as third years! You’re always saying we should make the most of it, so what better way to do that than to try something different?”

Fair point. 

He noticed the taller male’s gaze melt into his. That was the minute he knew he had him. Shuichi was so easy to read. “I mean I guess but–”

“Great! Let’s go!” Not allowing Shuichi to continue, he ran as fast as he could with the teen in hand, leaving the rest behind without a second thought. He could still hear the others let out groans as they reluctantly followed the pair. 

The house had been decorated pretty well, the eery decorations adding onto the already creepy house. The surrounding area was darker but still had a single street light illuminating the pavement and a bit of the house. 

Kokichi giggled as he opened the unlocked door which earned a few concerning comments as he carelessly walked inside. “Kokichi, please be careful–”

The rest of the group went inside the moment they realize he wouldn’t listen. Shuichi silently stayed behind Kokichi, shaking a bit as the lights slowly had begun fading from view. Luckily, he could still see the glowing bracelet everyone in the group had for safety (in accordance to Kiibo,) and continued to walk beside Kokichi’s purple bracelet. 

“Guys stop being so scared! Nothing’s going to hap– woah!” He had spoken too soon and before he knew it, a pair of hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him into a room. “Kokichi–!” The same hands had pulled Shuichi into the same room.

“Guys?! What’s happening?! Oh god, I need my inhaler.” Kiibo screamed, clinging onto Miu as she held hands with Kaede. “You’re going to be fine! Just fucking breathe–” The group was now all split up, living Kaito with Maki as the two stayed close to one another.

Kokichi looked around the room, it was a pretty cliché one at that. Not scary at all. He sighed and closed his eyes. Just great. It was one of those haunted houses. He could’ve sworn he heard a voice mutter his name. It sounded familiar. He turned around and noticed a figure cowarded in the corner. Even better. What scared loser did he get stuck with?

“K-Kokichi, please tell me that’s you." 

Oops, that’s just Shuichi.

Well then.

Well done, mysterious hands.

"It’s me Shumai. Why are you hiding in the corner? This room isn’t even that scary.” He bent down to the cornered figure and put his hand on the latter’s hair in soothing motions. “I hope everyone’s okay.”

“I’m sure they’re fine. Now, you have to get up so we can meet everyone and get out of here. None of this stuff is even real, look!” Kokichi grabbed a fake spider and wiggled it around in front of Shuichi’s face, “Look at me! My name is Arachno, y'know, like arachnophobia!” He teased, making a funny voice in an attempt to make Shuichi laugh, to which it did.

“Thanks.”

“Eh, it’s no biggie. I just want more candy so the faster we get out of here, the better.” He shrugged, placing both his hands behind his head while Shuichi stood on both his feet. It made Kokichi happy that he did that. He made Shuichi feel better. Though he’d never admit the pride and warmth he felt when his best friend and secret crush stand up and laugh because of something he did. 

Instead, he just decided to bask in the glory in secret. The two walked together side by side through the room before Kokichi felt something grab his foot, and in response, screamed and fell over in the dimly lit room. “Kokichi?!” Shuichi immediately bent down to the figure and checked on him.

“Are you okay? Can you move your foot?” In this heap of worry and through the darkened room, Kokichi could still see his grey eyes shine. His lips curled into a smile as the frantic vampire gently tried to hoist him up against the wall while trying to not move him too much.

“Saihara-chan, I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Really. I’m fine.” In a moment of silence, the two locked eyes. Kokichi caressed Shuichi’s cheek, bringing his lips closer to his. Shuichi didn’t know what had came over him. He felt his entire body melt into Kokichi’s touch as the slight sound of rubber could be heard with each movement Kokichi had made. 

Shuichi stared deep into Kokichi’s eyes which were beaming through the red cat mask he had worn. Next thing he knew, his body had taken over and their lips locked. It had felt like a thirst he never knew he had was finally being quenched. 

Like a need that was being fulfilled after a long wait. That type of thing.

Shuichi had no fucking clue what he was doing but god did it feel amazing. Kokichi was now limped over, Shuichi’s grip the only thing that’s keeping his body from completely collapsing. 

His small body shivered under his touch the more his own fingers explored the frame beneath him. Shuichi unclenched his jaw and released Kokichi from his lips, panting a bit. “You worry too much.” Kokichi laughed, ruffling his hair with his hand.

Shuichi could feel his face turn red in a realization of what he had just done. “Let’s just get back to the group.” Kokichi nodded as he helped him off of the ground.

They eventually found their way out of the house as well as the others. But no one really seemed to question why the two came out holding hands. Oh well. It was probably for the better anyway. 

[split-n-splice]

Reminder that this is still a fairly young Shego, still technically a teenager and just a few years into superpowers, and as such, still learning how to cope. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (And she'll be younger in the next chapter. PFFT)

[Chapter Guide]

25. Welfare Check – 7

Dressed for bed with hair damp, Shilo had wasted her evening sitting up in front of the television, waiting for her family to show up to pester her, but they never did. Now it was bedtime, past bedtime, and she’d been lying awake with the blankets kicked off, the top of her pajamas flayed open to cool her burning skin as she lay sprawled out, breathing deep, eyes skewed shut.

Hot flash was literal in her case. She hoped the cotton of her pajamas wouldn’t burn as her skin glittered.

As if rest wasn’t hard enough to come by knowing her family was in town, she had cool blue eyes on the brain – and that was the last thing she needed haunting her to fan the flame.

Another cold shower didn’t exactly do the trick, but at least she was considerably safer under the water. She let the tub fill and lay in the bath long after she got pruney. Dozing off there was tempting, but as a kid, her mother had always warned her about falling asleep in the tub. It was probably just for the sake of not hogging the bathroom, she decided. Sleeping in shallow water was preferable to scorching her sheets for the fifth time this month.

If it weren’t for her brothers, she could self-medicate with the stash she’d stolen from the guest she’d evicted Halloween morning. She’d only just gotten the smell reasonably out of the apartment, and opening the tin now would spell trouble.

Her eyes were drawn to the medicine cabinet and the promise of sleep it held. The last time she’d seen the clock, it was nearing midnight. She didn’t want to think about the hour now.

Shilo clambered out of the tub in the dark, not bothering to grab a towel as the water steamed off her body, and she stood stark naked and on the verge of overheating all over again as she hunched over the bathroom sink. She couldn’t see what she reached for. Everything was blurry from hot tears welling up. She couldn’t keep her eyes squeezed shut forever.

She wanted to dump out the bottle and flush the pills down the toilet.

That was her intent anyway as she fumbled with the lid with trembling hands, but she damned herself as she tossed her head back to swallow one down dry and slammed the cabinet shut so hard the mirror broke. She pawed at her burning eyes and left the bathroom, shaking glass from her bare feet as she decided she’d deal with the mess in the morning.

The apartment was already beginning to feel frigid by the time she choked down a slice of bread to put something her stomach to chase the harsh pill.

Gravity came down on her, everything beginning to feel heavy in a hurry as the unheated studio sapped whatever heat was left on her skin. She told herself she was just tired. She wasn’t steaming anymore and licks of green flame had ceased flickering over her body, so she couldn’t complain.

Shilo exhaled an exhausted sigh as the relief drew her to bed. She was just a little too drowsy now to be upset anymore for giving in. She could hate herself tomorrow, she decided as she patted around her blankets in the dark. Her fingers curled into soft woven fabric bundled near the head of her bed as she straightened the pillows she’d discarded, and she didn’t think twice about pulling on the oversized sweater to replace the ruined pajamas she’d abandoned on the bathroom floor. She pulled off the bat brooch and collapsed, barely finding the energy to tug the disheveled blanket over her as she fell deeper under the pill’s spell.

If her glow wasn’t still dormant four hours later, she would have fired a shot at her alarm just to sleep in. Keeping the offending clock across the room on her dresser was incentive to pick herself up out of bed each morning, but today with a sedative drug in her system, it was a little less compelling.

Eventually though, she rolled out of bed and slumped over shut it off. And then she stood there at the vanity, staring at the miserable reflection looking back at her. Her hair was a mess and she had work to do to hide the shadows under her reddened eyes. A strange man’s sweater hanging off her body shouldn’t have been the only comfort she found in the frame, but she hugged herself and reminded herself it was hers now. She’d stolen it, fair and square.

A knock at the door made her jump and she hastily pulled on the first pair of jeans she grabbed off the floor.

“Hope you’re decent!” hollered Milo from the other side, and she was just spinning her back to the door to button her pants as he squeezed in through a crack and rose to his natural height inside her apartment.

She’d rag his ear off about home invasion and criminal trespass and the likes, but she knew he’d disregard it. They were family and he was a superhero, so he could get away with that kind of thing. She swore it would bite him in the ass one of these days.

“What do you want?” she groused over her shoulder, digging into her drawers and hoping that setting a bra on top would ward him off.

It didn’t. She regretted making him do the laundry since he was a tween, but she’d been stuck taking care of the twerps so it was the least he could have done to pull his own weight.

He put himself between her and the drawers, and she wanted to strike him, and maybe pack a little heat behind it, but when she clenched her fist she realized the heat of her glow was still extinguished. The fleeting fear crossed her mind of Global Justice changing the formula to lengthen her downtime.

Milo crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at her, and said, “You lied.”

“Yeah?” she snorted. “I’m not under oath.” She didn’t care to ask about what. She’d lied that she’d go to the library yesterday, and she’d lied that she’d never take the damn worthless pills again, and she’d lied—

“He didn’t go to Mexico.”

She quirked her brow at him. And then it hit her – that lie – and she took a hasty step back away from her brother. Her heart started to thud. She almost felt warm, but it was nothing compared to the fire that would have burned her had she not swallowed the pill last night. Nonetheless, she suddenly saw her breath in the chilly apartment.

“Don’t worry,” said Milo nonchalantly, waving a hand flippantly and holding it out palm-up. He kept his voice down. “I’ll keep quiet about your weirdo boyfriend.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “He’s not my – augh! Fine.” Shilo spun around, dropping to her knees by her bed to pull out her go-bag, yet to be fully unpacked from the Las Vegas lark. She needed to grab some extra spending money for herself today anyway. She winced at the sound of beer cans knocking around under there and glared over her shoulder as she fished out a single bill. An even hundred dollars was enough for her spoiled little brother to give a content grunt and stuff it in the back pocket of his jeans.

“So you don’t live together, huh?” he wondered, eyeing the place. “Pretty shitty of him if he can’t—”

“Hey! You said you’d keep quiet,” Shilo seethed, bundling up the clothes off her dresser.

“And you said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”

Her lips had never zipped shut faster. Her face went pink – she could see it in the mirror – and she whipped around with an indignant huff to change in the bathroom.

She miserably remembered about the shattered glass strewn across the bathroom floor. She picked her way around it and decided she’d deal with it tonight, sweeping some of it aside with her scorched pajamas for now. If blue eyes hadn’t troubled her last night, she wouldn’t have to deal with the mess at all. Or at least, she wanted to blame the rising distress that had lead to her breaking point on the stupid fantasies. She wouldn’t have taken the pill at all if she hadn’t been flustered over stupid beads.

Once she was dressed and presentable enough for family, she stormed out, ready to shove her little brother away from the vanity so she could finish her routine. She narrowed her eyes on the trinket he held. She wasn’t sure where she’d displaced it last night, but he’d found it and was looking over each little pebble as if they held a clue.

“Too cheap to buy you gold, huh?” scoffed Milo as she yanked the bracelet from him.

Denying him an answer, she returned the trinket to her wrist – if only because it wasn’t a gift from the rogue doctor. Milo didn’t know that, but at least she did, and it helped Shilo hold her ground. “Are you done prying into my personal life?”

“Nope. How old is he?”

She grimaced. She didn’t want to admit that to Milo, much less to herself. It could be worse, but admitting the man in question was several years older than her wouldn’t help her case – not that the detail mattered. “How much do you know?” she asked, sparing him a cagey sidelong glance as she perched on her dresser before the vanity mirror.

“I know you went on a date last night.”

She nearly dropped her brush. Her nerves were harder to mask than the signs of fatigue stamped under her eyes. “No, I didn’t,” she snorted in a poor attempt to dismiss the accusation.

Milo cleared his throat. It was never a good thing when Milo cleared his throat, or opened his mouth at all for that matter. “Let’s elope to Alaska and go skiing,” he jeered, gripping the air as if miming skiing – until he made a suggestive motion that made Shilo painfully glad she’d taken the dreadful pill last night.

Mortified by his heckling, she stared wide-eyed and slack-jawed for a moment before her brow knit together in a glare. “If you tell anyone—”

“Cool it,” said her little brother, hands up. “I’m the only one who knows your dirty little secret. Promise.”

Her patience was worn thinner than tissue. “Get out!” she barked at him, and he actually jumped back.

Milo looked her over and shrugged as he turned around. “If you insist,” he said flippantly.

She wished she hadn’t told him off – because he opened the front door to allow an even bigger headache to barge in. She could only stifle a groan and rub her temples, on the verge of screaming as she stifled a distraught whimper.

They couldn’t keep this up forever, she decided, hastily finishing up in front of the mirror. She shouldered her purse, locked the door, and trotted down the staircase as she tied her hair back with a teal bandana to match her cardigan. Just shy of running from it, she ignored Hugo’s persistent complaints about not keeping to her routine yesterday.

The only good thing that came from him shadowing her was the information he divulged. She tried not to let her shoulders slump with relief at the news they were leaving soon – soon, soon – as in within the hour, because the boys had missed enough school. She couldn’t smile about it, but she was glad to hear it anyway.

“Ohh,” she crooned, looking back at her plaid-clad lumberjack of a brother looming just behind her. “Sorry we didn’t get to hang out much. Maybe next time.”

“Next month,” supplied Milo.

“We’ll work something out,” added Hugo. “The twins would’ve liked to spend more time with their sister, but—”

“I was busy,” Shilo sternly reminded. “My life doesn’t revolve around you guys or the twerps anymore.”

Milo coughed. “Yeah, so I’ve noticed.”

She shot a scowl to her lavender brother sauntering along on her other side. He was close to having his teeth knocked out. She didn’t need her glow for that. She balled her fists and set her jaw, picking up the pace.

A month. She had a month until she had to deal with her family again. A month to tear that reckless Drakken a new one. It wasn’t crucial, but if she could find a new guy to hide him behind by then, she might be set, as long as her family didn’t suspect the rogue to be anything more than a creep preying on young women. Nate had been a crappy alibi, but she’d been desperate, and he had a car, and was easily talked into being the getaway driver for her and Buckley’s girls – and then he didn’t want to leave. He had been convenient. She could do better.

A month was generous.

Shilo looked between her brothers shadowing her. If Milo had been lying – if the leader of Team Go really did know the man who’d spirited her away was in town – then Hugo would surely be wringing his hands and grumbling things like, “Just wait until I get my hands on him,” or interrogating her for his location. He wouldn’t be wasting his time with puppy-dog eyes trying to guilt-trip her, or whatever he was playing at. Town might even be crawling with Global Justice agents if he knew. But it wasn’t, and so far Hugo had only made a pathetic attempt to bring the family back together for the holiday and convince her to rejoin the team to live in the Go Tower alone, if she wanted her space that badly.

So she relaxed a little.

Halfway to Buckley’s, she crossed paths with her downtrodden father. He kept his eyes downcast and said nothing. Shilo looked to her younger brother, a little hopeful the center of attention would like to shed a little light, but he only grimaced slightly and shrugged. As she hugged the twerps goodbye, she couldn’t shake the sense that she’d been disowned on Halloween from the minute she’d slammed the door in the man’s face. That was fine by her. It was high time he got the hint he’d lost all grasp on her – on them. He was nothing more than a glorified babysitter now thanks to Lady Fate and Global Justice.

She squeezed the twerps once more – and kept her complaints to herself when Hugo stooped to engulf her in his huge embrace. If only to be included, Milo managed to wrap his spindly arms around them as well.

The hug lasted a little too long for comfort. She worried she was about to be hefted up and toted off while she was still next to helpless to defend herself. After a moment, she cleared her throat and shifted, spurring Hugo to release her. He did so reluctantly.

The twins turned tearful pleading eyes up at her.

She didn’t need that.

She didn’t need them begging her to come home with them.

Shilo kissed her index fingers and pressed them to their dimpled cheeks before the twerps could start bawling their little hearts out. A sweet lie that she’d send them some of Buckley’s special candy was enough to perk them up. They were still stubborn about releasing her legs. It took Hugo scruffing them by the straps of their overalls to hoist onto his shoulders before Shilo could put distance between herself and her family.

“Next month,” she said in lieu of a goodbye. She was still unsure what next month would entail, but she gave a small wave and a weak smile anyway as she retreated.

The group stood on the corner, watching her go. She turned her eyes straight ahead, determined not to glance back at them until she’d rounded a block herself, where she risked a peek over her shoulder just to be sure they weren’t following her. She heard the rumble of the jet shortly before reaching Buckley’s and saw it zip across the sky.

The next few hours proved to her that her family weren’t the only ones in a funk.

Shilo downed caffeine throughout the day in hopes of taking the edge off her fatigue. Every so often between customers, she slapped her own cheeks. She was off her game. It must have been painfully obvious and awfully annoying to her fellow barista when the stocky girl struck her in the shoulder just as Shilo raised her hands to pat her cheeks again.

“Need help slapping your face?” wondered the henchgirl-to-be with dry sarcasm.

“No, thanks. I’m good,” Shilo shot back, though she decided she might stick to the espressos.

She scrunched her face in a grimace at the bell jingling behind her back, and she drew a deep breath to prepare herself. She was composed and smiling and as awake and alert as she could be when she spun back around on her heel to face the customer and recite the usual greeting, “Welcome to Buckley’s Brew, what can I brew y— yo.”

She jerked back as she fixed her eyes on the customer, standing prim and proper and just about eye-blinding, dressed in shades of white and beige with hair as bright as the sun and eyes as dazzling as a clear July sky and—

And Shilo realized she was staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the radiant angel boy.

She blinked rapidly and shuddered as the warmth crept back over her skin and tingled across her clammy palms. Of course now the effects of the suppressant would wear off. Granted, she might have helped speed it along by downing more than the recommended allowance of espresso.

The boy cracked a smile of bleached-white teeth, quipping, “Yo, back at you.”

Shilo barely heard him. She gripped the counter. “Angel boy,” she blurted under her breath. She blinked again. Glanced back and gestured to the menu on the wall behind her – just about smacking her fellow barista Gail in doing so – and quickly sputtered, “W-well? What can I get ya? I haven’t got all day.” She winced at the crass words that flew out of her mouth.

The young man raised his brow at her and stepped aside to inspect the glass display loaded with fresh baked goods. “Just having a look around,” he said innocently. Shilo tried not to glance his way, setting her glower on the tip jar instead, but still caught his straight face crack again with a smile. “It all looks good. What do you suggest?”

When Shilo stood stock-still and mute, clutching the counter like a lifeline, Abigail knuckled her hip to shove her over to follow the customer to make a sale, but she didn’t budge. “I, uh. The daily special is…uh,” she floundered, realizing to her mortification that she couldn’t recall the special she’d only been suggesting robotically to each customer today.

“Pumpkin strudel,” answered Abigail impatiently.

Shilo caught a glimpse of angel boy’s eyes settling on the latest addition to Buck’s pastry showcase and she felt something twist in her stomach.

“Sounds good,” angel boy chimed, tapping the glass. “I’ll take one – oh, and a caramel latte. To go.”

“I-I’ll get right on that,” Shilo stuttered, prying her hands off the counter and willing away the heat. Severely lacking in the friendly department, she avoided eye contact as she fulfilled her duties otherwise.

“What is with you?” hissed Abigail, all but shoving the latte in Shilo’s hands.

“I – um – nothing,” she mumbled and quickly ducked away. If she could, the fellow barista might have swatted her upside the head. And if she had, Shilo might have spun to release some of the pent-up energy begging for an escape.

Shilo kept her eyes locked on the countertop as she slid the order across. In turn, angel boy slid over a bill. “Keep the change,” he said, as if the fifty cent difference was really all that generous. He took his order and left a little quickly, Shilo raising her brow at his back as he went.

As she made to put the cash in the till, she discovered a slip of paper beneath the bill – which Shilo snatched up and stuffed in her pocket, throwing a hasty glance to ill-tempered Abigail already whispering to Buckley through the window to the kitchen.

Westinger Grill, 6pm Friday

No name. No number. The Westinger rang a bell though.

Shilo found herself eyeing the slip of paper as she sat on the bus heading to the far end of town that evening. Her heart gave a lurch each time she glanced at it. Buckley had warned her, “Watch out for that one.” But Buckley couldn’t tell her why. Just that it was a gut feeling. But Shilo had a gut feeling too, and it had been fermenting all afternoon.

Whether a date or a prank, she knew where he worked. One way or another, she’d make him regret driving her to such desperate measures last night.

Angel boy was good as damned.

She tried not to walk with such a spring in her step, but jubilance made the trek up the hill go that much quicker. As usual, she found the gate chained and locked, but the barbed wire at the top had been removed after her mishap, making climbing it a second time a cinch.

As she entered the stuffy lab Dr. Drakken had himself safely holed up in – behaving himself finally now that it didn’t matter – she swore she caught a whiff of something sweet. It almost made the stale air pleasant to breathe.

“Ugh!” she groaned hugely as she strode across the cavern toward the man seated in a spare computer chair, hunched over his favorite work desk. He didn’t look up. She tried raising her voice, adding dryly, “I never thought I’d be so glad to be in a stuffy cave.”

The closer she came, the quicker his movements got, but there was no hope of finishing his task quick of enough to hide the project she fancied poking a little harmless fun at him for. He still seemed to be in a rush to connect cables like veins and arteries that connected an arm to a torso, too preoccupied to spare her more than a grunt.

“What’chu got there, Doc?” she jibbed, as if she didn’t already know. She perched on the armrest and leaned an elbow on his shoulder to stoop over and watch him tightening minuscule screws and tapping here and there with a soldering iron. He stiffened under her weight, and she let herself lean heavier against him as she pressed his buttons. “Trying to replace me already, huh? Man. Can’t believe you’re still working on these things. You’re such a nerd.” She tugged a lock of loose hair hanging by his ear for good measure. “You really got your heart set on these robo-girlfriends, huh?”

He fumbled with his screwdriver, dropping a tiny screw through the mess of connective cables. She could see his ears turning purple with his weird blush, and though he wore his awkward goggles, she knew he was glaring. His jaw was set, but he pried it open to gripe, “I’ll have you know, they’re more like my children at this point.”

Shilo – Shego scoffed. He’d yet to explain in full how they came about, and she wasn’t sure she could stay awake to listen to ancient history if he began the tale now. He had let on though that the Bebe sisters were a pet project of his since his teens and fresh out of high school – which must have been an awful long time to have his heart set on a single project he’d yet to perfect. It didn’t reflect well on his capability, by evil genius standards, and just thinking about the prototype robots made Shego quirk her mouth in doubt that this man would amount to more than a hermit scientist in a hole in the ground, making his living by building dangerous toys for others.

She wondered for a moment if she’d be alright with that – as long as he gave her something to do and took her out to stir a little mayhem now and then, of course.

Watching the twist and pull of his frown as he chewed on curses and grumbles, she stopped herself just short of reaching for the ponytail worn loose and low, and jerked away instead at the jolt of nerves flaring in her gut.

She shoved off from his shoulder before she could burn him by accident and found something else for her hands to do.

Hovering beside him instead, she lifted a limp robot leg to shamelessly inspect the carapace for female anatomy beyond the breastplate – which surprisingly served a function, allowing for extra room to store the cooling system and other vitals like the battery and what amounted to a complex synthetic nervous system.

Though her search came up empty, she mumbled, “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” and leaned forward to fold her arms on the table as she watched the man beside her continue to tinker and fumble with the inner workings of a shoulder, reaching into the gaping chest cavity on occasion to string something through.

Drakken must have reached a stopping point because suddenly he stood. Or maybe he just couldn’t focus any longer with her practically breathing down his neck. Either way, he snapped the breastplate shut, but otherwise clearly left the task unfinished as he hit the button under the desk to draw the privacy curtain shut and shut off the surgical light overhead. With his dorky magnifying goggles on, she couldn’t really see the glare he shot her way, but the curve of his mouth was enough to get the point across.

“I don’t need you criticizing me,” he declared, abandoning the pet project for now. He tore off the goggles, tossing them aside on the computer mainframe serving as a desk as he passed, and pulled his regular spectacles back on.

Tailing him, Shego clicked her tongue. “Contract never said I couldn’t,” she twittered.

He made a beeline for his kitchen, shedding his gloves and tossing his oil-stained jacket on the back of a barstool Shego set herself in a moment later to watch him roll up his sleeves and scrub down. “So,” he grumbled over his shoulder. “If you’re here, then I take it your family has gone home, yes?”

She couldn’t help the contented smile that stretched across her face. “Affirmative,” she answered blithely. “So far, so good. But you need to practice being sneaky. You’re lucky you weren’t busted.”

“Hmm, why’s that?”

“Milo saw us.”

Drakken threw an alarmed glance back at her, fumbling for a towel to dry off. “What? Who’s – the purple one?” he guessed, and she nodded. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, I’m not worried about that one.”

“That one has a mouth on him, you know. He’s kind of a rat,” she warned gravely. She barely found the nerve to discuss the matter, especially after her brother’s crude take on their idle chitchat at Cow-n-Chow. “You need to be more careful. They’re coming back to check on me next month. Dunno when. Hope they give me a heads up first. But for now, they’re out of my hair.”

The man made a disgruntled kind of noise as he rummaged into the fridge. “That’s good to hear,” he said, though it didn’t sound like he thought so. “So you’re available again?”

Shego perked up at the implication in his tone, and couldn’t help a wry smile. “Depends. What’chu got in mind?” she shot eagerly.

“Oh, it’s that pesky Dementor again,” said Drakken, lip raised in disdain as he waved a large knife with a roll of his wrist. “Every time I think he’s out of the picture, he pops back up like that moldy spot in the corner.”

“Ew,” Shego muttered, and couldn’t help a glance around to figure out which corner he was referring to. In a room carved out of the earth, there were a lot of corners, nooks, and crannies.

Drakken cleared his throat to regain her attention and dropped a cutting board with a clatter at the end of the island. “Anyway. I hear he goes by Professor Dementor now. He’s reconstructed and upgraded his seismic generator, and now he’s planning to threaten the world with tsunamis for some ridiculous demonstration. We need to find it and get rid of it – for good, this time.”

Shego grimaced. “That’s hero work,” she complained, and bit her lip for sounding like such a petulant child. Nevermind that there was evidently a villain teaching a class on global threats—

“It’s a necessary evil – err, good,” Drakken answered grimly, slicing away at bell peppers. “I can’t have his plans succeeding before mine.”

She rolled her eyes and retorted, “What are your plans anyway?” She already knew the answer to that. “I haven’t seen you do anything super radical since I got here.” Granted, she hadn’t been with him long.

“We’re biding our time, Shego,” crooned the rogue doctor, and she could practically mouth it along with him. “By the time your pesky brothers accept you’ve given up the whole hero lifestyle and have moved on, I’ll have the resources to play in the big leagues. I’m almost there, dear. You’ll see. We don’t need some little city guardians tipping off big brother because they found out their little sissy is a criminal.”

Somehow, sissy bothered her more than dear. She grimaced. “Watch it,” she warned. Nonetheless, she was glad to still be included in his plans, and it was reassuring to know her brothers’ hovering wasn’t a deal-breaker – though it was all the proof she needed to believe he was out of his mind. And even if it was all sweet lies he fed her to serve his unclear agenda, she still smiled at the prospect of sticking around to see it.

She had an itch after all, and he knew just how to scratch it.

A/N:

This scene picks back up immediately in Ch27. Aura of Others! ;B

[missnmikaelson-main]

The Forgotten - Chapter 12

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11

2011

He came to a sudden stop in a second floor bedroom and pressed her to the solid oak door with his hands on her hips.

She dragged her eyes up from his parted lips to his eyes; concern had flooded the irises. Her gloved fingers came to rest on his broad shoulders and it took every ounce of self-control not to bury her hands in his hair and tug on the silken strands.

“Are you alright?” He breathed, afraid to break the silence and the spell that had descended on them. The thought that she had been playing along with his flirtation and at any moment she would scream for help crossed his mind.

Her scent was entirely human, but one thing she had said stuck out: ‘ninety-seven’ years. The exact length of time he had ‘slept’ in his coffin.

“Are you going to be ill?” He searched her eyes. Her name and teasing manner might have been coincidence, but her locket wasn’t. He already knew what he would find if he opened it.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “I got over any motion sickness I might have had a long time ago.”

She ran her fingers over his lapels, flattened her hands on his chest and felt his heart beat against her palm. Between his body and the door she was boxed in place; the look in his eyes suggested he was afraid to let her out of his sight, that if he were to turn away for even a moment she would disappear.

“Are you really here?”

She nodded.

“They told me you were dead,” he breathed. He could still picture the scene as Elijah described it. One hand left her hip to cover her left breast – whole and unharmed. Her heart beat fast under his palm and his skipped a beat beneath her hand.

“But you’re here,” his thumb stroked her collarbone, “you’re alive,” he inhaled the sweet ambrosia that had haunted his dreams. “You’re human…”

“No,” she cut him off. With her right hand she unhooked the silver bracelet and lowered it to a nearby shelf.

She knew what he smelt when the charm was gone, but for good measure she allowed the veins beneath her eyes to darken and her irises to flood with red. He didn’t say anything and she began to feel self-conscious, fearing that he had only wanted the weak human girl he saved in the cemetery.

“Thierry?” He breathed.

“Safe,” she bit the corner of her lip.

“Are you gonna ask how?” She hated the meekness in her voice. She was not some helpless girl anymore; she was a grown woman who against all odds had survived everything life had thrown her way.

“No,” he shook his head, “later.”

“Later?” She questioned.

“You waited ninety-seven years for a decent dancing partner, darling,” he stared into her eyes, “but do you know what I’ve waited for?”

She shook her head, felt her heart leap into her throat. The intense look in his eyes made something inside of her swoop as warmth grew wherever he touched her.

“You,” he murmured.

That was the only warning Elena got before his mouth was on hers. She gasped and gave into her desire, threading her fingers through his short hair and pulling him closer until she could feel his heart against her chest.

The kiss was electrifying, and the heat only increased when he swept his tongue along the seam of her lips and into her open mouth. He stole her breath; he stole her heart and gave back his own as replacement before finally dragging his lips from her mouth and down her throat.

The kisses pressed to her neck were gentle, but no less passionate. He moved lower, groaning as he felt the maddening rise and fall of her bound chest.

“You smell divine,” he nudged her collarbone with his nose.

Elena drew his chin up and met his dark eyes; she suspected her pupils were as blown as his.

Their joint breaths all but masked the string quartet a floor below.

She tilted her head and placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, moving to his jaw. She needed him closer. She needed to feel him – feel the way his heart skipped under his skin – so with deft fingers she pushed his jacket from his shoulders, tore his bowtie from his neck and slipped the vest from his body.

“Elena,” he groaned. His hands grabbed her hips and as she unbuttoned his shirt he took fistfuls of her full skirt.

His back hit the wall beside his bed.

He grunted, glancing to where his hands were pinned at his sides.

“If you rip my dress,” she dragged her mouth down the center of his chest and back up, “you’ll have to steal clothes from Rebekah again.”

His blood boiled at the mention of his traitorous sister, but he swallowed his anger for the beauty currently nipping at his throat.

“I’ll be careful, love,” he smirked when she looked up, “promise and I always keep a promise.”

She released his wrists from the symbolic hold; they both knew he was a vampire she couldn’t best.

She took a step back at his urging and watched him remove his shirt with the utmost care before draping it on a chair. Her eyes followed the rippling muscles in his back until he turned and stood in front of her again.

“Tease,” she pouted.

“You could say it’s what I was born to do,” he flashed an impish grin.

He spun her in his arms at vampire speed and bent to lay kisses on the smooth curve of her throat. A sensitive spot behind her ear turned her knees to water.

“Do you know what you do to me?” His breath fanned over her flushed skin.

“I have a pretty good idea,” she rolled her hips. The choking noise he made and the feeling of him through the layers of fabric had desire curling down her spine.

He forced his feet to step away and took a deep breath while reaching for the almost invisible zipper at her back. He pulled it down revealing inch after inch of smooth skin until he could see the entire length of her spine.

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to press her onto his bed and kiss every vertebra until he reached her perfect behind when he would roll her over, spread her thighs and taste her, but then she let the material fall and turned to face him.

She still wore her gloves when she took his hands and placed them on her waist he felt two kings of silk, but the skin under his palms was preferable. Her fingers slid up the length of his arms and dug into his hair before she finally pulled his head down to kiss him.

His large hands pulled her closer and slipped over her body. She moaned and he felt it in his chest; a groan reverberated through him as her hands traveled down the length of his abdomen and pulled his belt free.

She heard the distant sound of voices: Stefan and Damon looking for her, Finn asking Elijah if he had seen her, and Klaus asking after both of them.

She quickened her movements, shedding the last of his clothes.

“What’s the rush darling?” He breathed heavily.

“People have noticed were gone.”

He chuckled, but allowed her to pull him down on the bed and between her parted thighs; it was the precise place he wanted to be anyway.

“Why should I care about that?” He hooked a finger in the band of her underwear: the last barrier separating them.

Elena blanked for a moment. Her first thought was that nobody could know about her, but that didn’t matter anymore, not to her; she had finally found him.

“I don’t want someone interrupting us.”

++++

Stop staring,” Damon followed her gaze to Caroline and rolled his eyes, “it’s creepy.”

Rebekah tore her gaze from Matt and glared at the clueless vampire. She decided to use his assumptions to her advantage – or rather to her brother’s advantage; everybody thought she was a jealous bitch, so she leaned into the curve and sneered.

“Of course, she looks beautiful. Nik gave her everything she’s wearing.”

“Well, you’re no dog yourself.”

She focused on his features and narrowed her eyes. The corner of her lips lifted.

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“You tried to kill Elena last night,” he scoffed, “you don’t get compliments.”

“Caveman,” she snorted. She could remember the previous night clearly. She had left the mansion with every intention of causing the girl some pain, but then she saw the silver locket.

“Where is Elena?” Damon frowned.

++++

The music had shifted to something new on the floor below, and she could hear the sound of people mingling in the hall, but none of that mattered to her because Kol’s hands were exploring every inch of skin he could reach as his hips shifted.

She moaned, hooked her thigh over his waist and flipped them over. Her hands fell to either side of his head as his found a home on her waist.

He breathed against her lips, groaning as the angle of her hips shifted and she kissed him, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth.

“Bloody hell,” he sat up, guiding her hips with an arm around her waist, “you’ll be the death of me, darling.”

“I’d better not be,” she gasped, “I pre…”

He cupped her breast his free hand, scraping his thumb over her stiff nipple, and she forgot for a second what she was going to say. He made matters worse by trailing hot kisses up her throat.

“… Kol…” her whispered voice turned to a whine, “… please…”

“What do you prefer, darling?” He coaxed. “Tell me what you want.”

“I wa… I want…” she rolled her hips, “I want you…” she gasped, biting her lip, “… alive… here… with m… me.”

“I think I can arrange that,” he smirked, flipping her onto her back and hooking her leg over his shoulder.

++++

She knew she was there as a show of muscle and that she was supposed to be distracting the Salvatore brothers so they wouldn’t get in Elena’s way, but Elena had already pulled her disappearing act. Although she doubted her friend had gone to meet with Esther since she had overheard Klaus and Rebekah discussing a missing brother by the name of Kol.

She knew she should be distracting them, but the best thing she could do was wait for them to comb over the ballroom because if she confronted them they would know Elena had planned her vanishing act.

She held her hands in front of her and fingered the diamond bracelet; Klaus’ birthday present that said ‘sorry-I-sent-your-cheating-ex-to-bite-you-on-your-birthday-I’m-not-that-bad-love’.

She hadn’t meant to wear it or the dress, but Elena had asked her late so she had nothing to wear, and Klaus – homicidal maniac that he was – had exquisite taste.

She rolled her eyes when the psychopath in question appeared on her left. She deliberately turned away from him and focused her attention on the horses.

“I’m not talking to you until you tell me why you invited me here.”

“I happen to fancy you,” he watched her stroke the horse’s nose, “is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes,” she scoffed, glaring over her shoulder. “What are you doing out here?”

“Why is it hard to believe?” He tilted his head and smiled. “You’re beautiful, you’re strong, and you’re full of light. I enjoy you.”

“I’m not yours to enjoy,” she rolled her eyes, “and you didn’t answer my question.”

“You’re out here, do I need another reason?”

“I’ve been out here for nearly an hour alone, so I’m gonna say yeah.”

“I was looking for Elena,” he relented, “she’s pulled a disappearing act.”

“Did you ever think that she’s avoiding the guy that killed her?”

“Does that mean you know where she is?”

“Somewhere inside,” she shrugged. Her eyes narrowed when he nodded and turned towards the mansion. “I thought you ‘enjoyed’ me.”

“I thought you weren’t mine to enjoy,” he countered, with dancing eyes.

++++

She was laying half on top of him with her heart against his chest and lips pressed to his neck, and for the first time in as long as he could remember he felt happy. He forgot about the siblings who were never on his side and the horrendous acts that had weighed on his conscience for years and allowed the peaceful bubble to surround them both.

He dragged the tips of his fingers up her spine and back down with the barest touch until she squirmed against him and giggled.

“That tickles.”

“Why do you think I’m doing it?” He smirked. He flattened his hand on the small of her back and rolled her over his body to pin her down. The sheet had been dragged with her and he had every intention of pulling it away to find further ticklish spots, but before he could the door opened.

It closed a second later and they were greeted by a blonde doing her level best to keep her eyes above the cream coloured sheet.

“You really like interrupting us, don’t you?” Kol snapped, sitting up and tucking the sheet firmly over Elena’s chest.

“The first time was unintentional,” she pointed at him. “I bought you as much time as I could, but Nik isn’t he only one looking for you now. Elijah’s also looking for Elena.”

Kol exchanged a look with her, reading the confusion in her eyes.

“What does the noble stag want with her?” He frowned at Rebekah.

“How am I supposed to know?” She scoffed. “All I know is that Elijah is looking for you,” her blue eyes turned on Elena, “and you’ve got about ten minutes before his search moves to the second floor.”

“A lot can happen in ten minutes,” he turned to Elena, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Unless you want Elijah finding you naked and in the throes you’d better get dressed,” Rebekah looked around, reaching for the door knob. “Nik would dagger you for this.”

“You’d know all about that, sweet sister,” he muttered, “since you were the reason I was daggered last time.”

Rebekah stiffened and slowly turned back around.

Elena felt a sudden desire to sink into the mattress and disappear. The last place she wanted to be was between feuding Original vampires.

“I never betrayed you, Kol,” Rebekah met his flaming eyes.

“You told them about her,” venom dripped from his tongue.

“I nev…”

“Don’t lie to me!”

Elena shot up so fast the sheet nearly fell, and she knew she was giving Rebekah a good view of her bare back, but she didn’t care.

“Kol,” she pressed one hand to his chest. When that didn’t work she moved her hand up and cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Rebekah didn’t tell them.”

A line appeared between his brows when he turned his angry gaze from his sister to Elena; his look softened for her, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface.

“You don’t have to defend her, love,” his hand settled on the base of her spine.

“I’m not defending her Kol. I’m telling the truth. Rebekah didn’t tell them, and I know because it was Mary Alice.” She read the disbelief in his eyes. “She used magic to send Klaus a letter from the cottage – confessed to it when I was inside; actually seemed thrilled at the prospect of me dying.”

“If you’d bothered to read my note you would have already known this,” Rebekah tore open the door, “I’ll be waiting for your apology downstairs.”

Elena stood up from the bed, walking around the end to pick up her dress. She fixed the bodice in place and turned her back to him; the zipper was drawn up in silence.

Locating her gloves, she slipped them on and turned around to face him.

“Mary Alice?” He reached for her hands.

“I told you she didn’t like me,” she smiled sadly.

“But to do that…” he shook his head. “She signed your death warrant.”

“My human life was always going to be limited,” she squeezed his fingers, “at least when it ended it wasn’t permanent. I’ve got you to thank for that.”

“Me?” He frowned.

“I’ll tell you later,” she smiled. “I’ve gotta go. Elijah’s looking for me and I bet it’s got something to do with your mom wanting to talk to me. Where’s my bracelet?”

“Side table,” he nodded to the door. He stood and started dressing while she went to collect the jewelry. “My mother wants to see you?”

“Yeah,” she moved back towards him, hooking the bracelet around her wrist. “Do you have any idea why?”

“None,” he shook his head.

Elena stepped into her heels but paused, her eyes draw to the exposed skin of his chest.

He noticed her stare and left the shirt to hang open. “Like what you see, darling?”

“I didn’t think I needed to say yes,” she smirked. Her hands slipped over his stomach. She tipped her head up and kissed him twice because once wasn’t enough.

“You’d better go, darling,” he kissed her again, “before I barricade that door and rip off your dress.”

“Don’t you dare,” she gave his chest a playful slap. She snatched a piece of paper from a notebook on his nightstand and scrawled a series of numbers on it before folding it and slipping it in his pocket. “Go apologize to your sister.”

“Must I?” He pouted.

“Yes,” she reached for the doorknob. “She helped and you accused her. She was actually the one who got Thierry out of the house before Klaus and Elijah got there.”

“Fine,” he sighed.

Elena smoothed her hair over her shoulder and opened the door. She was halfway down the hall, resisting the urge to go back, when she felt a hand on her elbow. She found herself grateful for the bracelet that masked her scent and Kol’s when she came face to face with Elijah.

She knew everyone was going to find out eventually, but she didn’t want to have the conversation yet. The ‘you’re sleeping with my brother’ would lead to the ‘you’re a vampire’ which would lead to the ‘I left you to die in New Orleans’ which would inevitably lead to a slap across his face; she was floating too high for that.

“Elena,” he smiled tightly, glancing down the hall, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Sorry,” she shrugged. “I got a little turned around,” several times… by your brother… forgot which was up for a bit.

“The house is rather large,” he met her eyes. “I understand my mother requested an audience with you.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “why, is something wrong?”

“Well,” he moved to stand in front of her, stopping their path, “her ability to forgive my brother after everything he’s done to destroy this family strikes me as a little strange to say the least.”

Elena blinked up at him. Now that she was thinking about it she found it a little odd as well; her children weren’t particularly forgiving in nature and that was often a trait learned from parents.

“Do you think it’s an act?” She felt her mouth turn down; her elation dropped.

“It has me asking questions I never thought I’d ask,” he looked over her shoulder before taking a step closer and lowering his voice. “Can I depend on you to tell me what she says?”

Standing so close she didn’t know how he couldn’t see who she was, or remember what he had done to her in 1914. If she were one of his siblings she would have refused outright, but she wasn’t. She doubted her grudge against him would hold much longer, so she nodded.

“Of course,” she managed a small smile. “I’ll find you later, okay?”

She didn’t wait for a response before walking around him and down the hall. The study was easy enough to locate because the door was open; she closed it at Esther’s nod and blinked.

When she opened her eyes again she was on the ground floor standing alone amidst a sea of people. She blinked at the crowd and tried to clear the fog in her head; the task was so much work that she didn’t notice Elijah sidling up until he was beside her.

“So,” he gave her a charming smile, “how was my mother?”

She got a glimpse of the study in her mind and pressed her lips together. She could only come up with one word to describe the woman and associated memory.

“Intense.”

“I see,” he plucked two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, “and for what reason did she wish to speak with you in private?”

Elijah offered her a glass of champagne at the same moment she noticed Esther on the stairs. A voice whispered in her mind and told her she needed to reassure him, but it didn’t sound like her voice.

There was something important she needed to remember, pressing on her brain along with a tingling sensation she knew to be magic.

“Elena?” Her eyes snapped back to him. “Should I be concerned about my mother’s intentions?”

She opened her mouth to speak and the voice that came out was hers, but the words were not. She was standing a quarter mile away listening to herself talk to Elijah and wondering where the syllables were coming from because they certainly weren’t originating on her tongue.

“She just wanted to apologize for trying to have me killed.” Her facial muscles strained under the smile; there was something important.

“So it’s true then?”

She strained her memory: candles, blood, a spell…

“She’s forgiven Klaus?”

… Frozen muscles, horror, pure terror…

“Elena?”

… ‘If one goes’… a needle…

“It’s true,” her heart skipped a beat. She knew he could hear it, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything before the crystal rang and their attention was drawn up.

She welcomed Esther’s speech for the distraction it was and took a moment to breathe and search her head for the source of the fog and the reason why she felt like a marionette on strings. She needed to find the puppeteer, but first she needed to pull back the curtain and make sense of the snippets she had summoned.

… ‘They all go’… ‘They are abominations’… ‘Betrayed nature’…

It hit her over the head with the force of a bag of bricks. Esther – the woman talking about the joy of a family reunited p was planning to slaughter every Original vampire by linking them together as one. The question remained of how she planned to do it.

She heard her own voice in her head: ‘I couldn’t help if I wanted to, and I don’t want to’.

‘Your blood is only useless to my son’.

Elena’s head snapped up; the voice hadn’t been from a memory. Her eyes locked on the Original Witch as glasses rose.

“Cheers,” Esther smiled at the crowd, raising her glass; something metallic glinted under her pearl bracelet. The call was echoed by a hundred voices.

Elena’s eyes fell to the glass in her hand. She had lived for over a hundred years, attended some of the highest parties of New Orleans society and planned even more, but she had never once seen pink champagne in that particular hue.

Her eyes narrowed.

Don’t drink the champagne, she thought the words, pushing them over the crowd of people again and again, but nobody showed any sign that they had heard.

Across the room Kol heard the faintest of whispers and stiffened because he knew the voice; it was the same one that had whispered against his skin less than an hour before. He glanced at Rebekah to see if she had heard it too and found her looking sideways at him with the smallest of lines between her brows.

Elena turned back to face Elijah and against her will clinked her glass with his. She prayed he had heard her and lifted the flute of sparkling liquid, pressing her lips to the glass tightly because her tongue still didn’t belong to her.

Kol glanced over his shoulder to where she stood with Elijah. Her mouth was too tight to allow the champagne between her lips. He turned his attention to Rebekah and clinked glasses with her.

“Cheers,” he smirked, but it didn’t meet his eyes. He tipped the glass up and allowed the liquid to touch his mouth, but it didn’t pass his lips.

Klaus frowned at the whisper that he couldn’t quite make out before shaking it off and drinking the toast. From the corner of his eye he saw Elijah drink.

Elena deposited her glass on a passing waiter’s tray after the toast was done and smiled at Elijah before murmuring an excuse and rushing out into the night.

“Elena?”

She turned to see Caroline racing towards her with a sparkling shawl. The blonde was followed closely by Damon.

“Elena,” he grabbed her arm, “where the hell have you been?”

“I had a meeting,” she glared at his hand.

“You shouldn’t have gone alone.”

“Are you seriously mad at me right now?” She pulled her arm free when he tugged her towards the cars.

“I’m mad at you because you made a stupid decision like you always do, and put your life in danger,” he snapped. “Sue me for trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” she crossed her arms over her chest, “so just stop it.”

“I can’t,” he stepped toward her.

“Why not?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Because I love you, dammit!”

Her breath caught as the ninety-seven year old memories surfaced. Damon fancied himself in love with her, but time had let her see that what he wanted was a replacement for Katherine that he could control.

“You don’t love me, Damon.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then you should stop,” she met his eyes. The words were cruel, but they had to be said. “I don’t love you Damon, and I never will, not the way you want me to.”

“About time someone told him,” Caroline muttered. She was going to hand the shawl to Elena, but it was pulled from her hands. She watched a dark haired young man drape the glittering material over her friend’s shoulders.

“Alright, darling?” His hands held the shawl closed around her front.

Heat curled down Elena’s spine at the sound of Kol’s voice.

“I’m fine,” she sighed, but she could hear her heart skipping. She just kept from leaning back into his chest.

“What are you doing here?” Damon snapped, glaring at Kol.

“Well, it is my family property,” he smirked.

“Take your hands off her,” he growled.

“Certainly,” Kol slid his hands up her arms and kneaded her shoulders, “as soon as she tells me to.”

“Well,” Caroline cleared her throat, “as fun as I’m sure this verbal sparring match is gonna be, I am tired and I think Elena is too, so we’re just gonna say goodnight.”

“What she said,” Elena nodded, “so as nice as this massage is, I’m gonna need my shoulders back.”

“As you wish, love,” Kol sighed.

Elena turned around to face Kol and smiled softly, mouthing the words: ‘please don’t kill him’.

She was halfway to Caroline’s car when she heard Damon hiss and shove Kol because he had her scent ‘all over’ him.

“Keep walking,” Caroline gripped her arm. “It’s high time someone put Damon in his place.”

I’ve left hints throughout the chapters for how Esther did what she did to Elena. Can anyone guess what it was?

@elejah-wonderland @elejahforever @eternityunicorn @morsmornte @fandomrulesall @xanderling @cry-btch @kol-and-elena-fanfiction @geekofmanyfandoms

[themurphyzone]

Lucky Thirteen Ch 2

Cavendish has to tell Dakota something important. Too bad his nerves and the world are complicating matters.

Ch 2: Second Thoughts

Dakota yawned and hugged his pillow. He hated waking up early on the weekend and would be in bed for at least.another two hours. However, Cavendish was an early riser and was already dressed for the day (like Poor Richard, he believed it would make him healthy, wealthy, and wise). The ring box was tucked in Cavendish’s lapel, safe and secure from prying eyes. 

He hopped out of bed and made his choice. 

Cavendish tucked the receipt into his pocket and walked out the door. 

He couldn’t do it. 

Dakota could charm everyone with a sandwich in one hand and a cola in the other. 

Cavendish was just the guy who died. 

Like, a lot. 

His stomach grumbled, but Cavendish hushed it. “Jeweler’s first, then we’ll see about breakfast. Honestly, you’re as bad as Dakota.” 

If he’d come along, Dakota would have dragged him into the nearest Paul Bunyan’s for a breakfast burrito and coffee. 

Breakfast burrito. That’s breakfast inside of a burrito. 

Pigs in a blanket. That’s hot dogs sleeping inside a bread blanket. Hey, a brenket! Yeah, that’s a thing now. Cause I said it. 

“Get out of my head, Dakota,” Cavendish muttered. “You’re messing with a highly efficient and organized mind.”

Once the voice bearing an uncanny resemblance to the real-life Dakota was driven out, Cavendish opened the ring box. The rings were on the cheap end of the scale, but they still ate up a good portion of the month’s budget. 

Luckily for Cavendish, Dakota never paid attention to the budget chart. He was usually more interested in the area Cavendish had deemed ‘Money for the Snackhound’s Appetite’. 

He hadn’t initially planned on using actual rings either. 

It was a run-in with Milo and Sara at the grocery store that convinced him otherwise. Sara was extra-vehement at his decision to use edible fruit-flavored candy rings instead, and she was not taking the ‘it’s way cheaper’ excuse. 

You can’t substitute mass-produced neutron bracelets for the one-of-a-kind Lazuli Kingdom bracelets, Sara had protested indignantly. 

According to Milo, she was just quoting Dr. Zone Episode 22: Jewel of the Earth, so her perception of romance probably wasn’t realistic. 

Still, they hadn’t left him alone until they were absolutely positively certain that he wasn’t going to propose to Dakota with a generously sized hunk of sugar. 

The jeweler wasn’t far now. He just had to cross the street to get there.

Are you sure you want to do this? a voice asked. You spent the past few months gathering your nerves, and now you’re just tossing it out on a whim? And what exactly are you going to tell Milo and Sara? They sacrificed their time to help with the ring selection, the least you could do is follow through. 

“I’ll tell them Dakota said no,” Cavendish retorted, drawing attention from passersby. He ignored them, slipping the ring box into his pocket to avoid the curious stares. “You’re making it harder than it actually is.” 

Pot calling the kettle black.

“Oh, be quiet. I know what I’m doing, thank you,” Cavendish muttered. He thumped his forehead in an effort to get the nagging voice out of his mind, and the receipt dropped from his hand. The paper fluttered down to the crosswalk. 

“I’m having a crisis here. The least you could do is cooperate,” Cavendish told the paper. 

As he bent down to pick it up, a cacophony down the street drew his attention. People screamed and ran for their lives, a car crashed into a fire hydrant, and a motorbike with two people swerved to avoid traffic, dragging a colossal dinosaur made of ham behind them with a bungee cord. 

Cavendish scrambled out of their way, avoiding the wheels of the motorbike, but a sharp hit to the gut cut off his air supply and left him wheezing. Something knocked him off his feet and he tripped into a squishy and meaty wall. 

Dakota didn’t know Cavendish’s whereabouts. He would still be asleep, lost in some faraway dreamland where bars of chocolate served as transportation and rivers were made of chunky salsa. 

Cavendish would die in this hammy tomb, and they had no method to travel back a few minutes to prevent it. 

Wait, ham?

His vision returned, and Cavendish realized he wasn’t dead. 

Well, duh. No civilization in history claimed heaven smells like ham. Well, maybe the Island Dakotas would say otherwise, but they’ve never been a conventional sort. 

On the bright side, his internal organs hadn’t been displaced.

Cavendish crawled out from the wreckage of the ham dinosaur, wrinkling his nose at the ham-scented fluid that clung to his suit. The smell reminded him of Lard World, and not in a good way.

“Can’t you wait until I’ve had breakfast before you try to kill me?” Cavendish griped as he rushed back to the crosswalk, desperate to find the receipt he’d dropped.

He only found three measly scraps, and the other pieces had long scattered to the wind. 

He could still salvage the situation. Run into a store, request receipt paper, make a forgery. As long as he got the price right, there shouldn’t be an issue. 

Yeah, it was totally a foolproof plan. 

“You’re Cavendish, right? One of Milo’s friends?” a voice behind him asked.

Cavendish yelped, jumping away from the man and clutching his chest in shock. His back hit the curb of the sidewalk, making him groan in pain. 

“Great Scott, are you trying to kill me?” Cavendish spat once his brain worked again. The man before him looked vaguely familiar, though it didn’t click until he saw the brown cowlick. Right, they played that hodgepodge board game together on the day he and Dakota were trying to close the deadly vortex above Milo Murphy’s home. He racked his brain, trying to recall a conversation where Milo had mentioned his parents. “You’re...Marlin?”

A nearby manhole opened, revealing Danville’s resident underground lunatic. “I, Scott, the master of Subterranous in all her garbagey glory, answer to your summons, Overlander! Who would you like me to trap in the sewers for the next 48 hours?” 

“Not every ‘Great Scott’ is an incantation to summon you,” a woman sighed, pushing the manhole on Scott’s head until he disappeared beneath the surface. 

“Okay, I get the message! Mildred and I have important stuff to do anyway!” Scott called. 

“Anyway, it’s Martin. And that’s Brigitte for future reference,” the man corrected as he helped Cavendish up. “You got clotheslined by that bungee cord pretty good. Are you okay?” 

Cavendish brushed the gravel off his suit, though he knew it would take a trip to the laundromat to get the fabric back into pristine condition. “I’ve had worse. Don’t worry.”

Then he noticed the helmets Martin and Brigitte carried. “Were you the drivers of that motorbike?” he asked, gesturing to the upturned vehicle. A bungee cord was caught in its back tires, leading to the fallen ham dinosaur a few feet away. 

Brigitte laughed nervously. “That was me. I found my old motorbike from an extreme motocross race I did back when I was a college student and fixed it up. The gas pedal was touchier than I thought and Martin’s sleeve got caught in the second seat while he was getting breakfast.” 

“I picked the right day to wear a motorcycle helmet in the kitchen,” Martin added. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s fine,” Cavendish said as he brushed past them. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to forge a receipt so I can return a pair of rings to the jeweler’s.” 

“I’m going to ignore the bit about forging a receipt,” Brigitte said slowly. “But did you mean these rings by any chance?”

She fished out a familiar ring box from her pocket. 

Cavendish took the box gratefully, annoyed at himself for having missed such a crucial object. His plan would’ve fallen apart at the seams if he’d lost the rings. 

“How come you’re going back on your engagement?” Martin asked. 

“I-we...Dakota and I aren’t engaged!” Cavendish stammered. Were Milo’s parents always this nosy? “Where did you even find these rings?” 

Brigitte shrugged. “Found ‘em after the bike overturned. They fell out of your pocket.” She returned the box, and Cavendish secured it inside a pocket that had a button flap. 

The most logical reason of course. 

“Milo and Sara mentioned that they went to the jeweler’s with you a few weeks ago,” Martin remarked. “They were really excited for you. Especially Milo. He called you his weird but cool uncles that one only meets in family reunions.” 

It was awfully hard not to preen at Milo’s good words. The boy didn’t have a mean bone in his body. 

While Cavendish was fully capable of finding flaws with everything that existed in their universe, he still couldn’t air a single grievance against Milo Murphy.  

“Anyhoo,” Cavendish coughed before the conversation entered further awkward territory. “I should really be going. Besides, Dakota could be waking up any minute now.” 

“Does Dakota know?” Brigitte asked. 

“I think-um, no. No, he doesn’t know I have these. Unless he went snooping, and I wouldn’t put it past him,” Cavendish admitted. 

Brigitte raised an eyebrow. “I meant, have you told him how you feel yet? 

Prying woman! 

Before Cavendish could snap, deny, refute, or utter a curt goodbye, Martin’s phone emitted the chorus of Chop Away at My Heart. 

“Ah, could we put this conversation on hold?” Martin asked sheepishly. 

How about indefinitely? Cavendish bit back.

Martin tapped a green circle and held the phone to his ear. “Hello? Oh, it’s you,” he sighed. He looked completely and utterly done with life. 

At Cavendish’s questioning glance, Brigitte mouthed Doofenshmirtz, her fists clenching in irritation. 

Cavendish found himself oddly grateful for the man’s interference though. Spared him from arguing his rationale for returning the rings. 

Martin’s eyebrows flew up in shock. “No, I didn’t give you permission to turn the oven into an Escape Pod-inator!” 

Doofenshmirtz said something that Cavendish couldn’t make out. 

“For the last time, vending machines aren’t plotting to take over Kansas! What would they even rule there-ugh, forget it. Just forget it. I’m not dealing with this. No, I’ll handle the cleanup. You find something else to do that doesn’t involve exploding appliances.” 

Martin hung up, muttering something very unkind about couch-crashing pharmacists. 

Doofenshmirtz is Professor Time. Professor Time’s rumored to have dated the strangest things. If we can’t return the rings, we get his help for your proposal. 

“I didn’t say I was proposing!” Cavendish protested, much to Brigitte and Martin’s surprise. He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Er...sorry. I just had the most peculiar idea where Professor Time-that is to say, the guy crashing in your home...helped me with-ah, my dilemma.” 

Martin’s face broke into a wide grin. “You’ll really do that? Doof will be tagging along with you for a while?” 

Brigitte elbowed him sharply. 

“Ow, your joints hurt,” Martin said, rubbing his side gingerly. “What I meant to say is that it’s great you’re reconsidering and asking someone you think can help you out.” 

Well, it can’t hurt to try one more terrible idea that’s sure to backfire with all the force of a nuclear explosion. 

Cavendish logic is way too much fun I swear. 

[tsw-story]

Chapter 78 - Contained

Standing at around the same height as the stone beasts before was a creature completely black from head to toe. He had cat-like eyes, teeth like daggers, muscles that could grate cheese, curved horns, and claws the length of swords coming from each finger, but the head on top was tiny in comparison.

Beside him was a car nearly cut in half by claw marks that pierced the metal like a warm knife through butter. When he turned, his tongue lashed out, but a grin of absolute glee was always present across his face.

Deena and Daveon ran up, then Renatta landed beside them.

“You've got to be kidding me,” cursed Deena.

“Who's this?” Renatta looked to her. “A friend?”

“No. We faced him before. Remember the Elixir of Strength? This was one of the first to drink it, during that whole debacle.”

“So this is the demon Eldrian mentioned, way back,” spoke Daveon. “I heard of a demon who got in and out from that city. I guess he escaped with the rest.”

Rend flared his nostrils. “You smell familiar. But all humans do, I guess. No. There's something more. Something nostalgic.”

Deena wasn't in the mood for smalltalk. He stepped down a boot, and from her hand, she whipped a smaller ball of swirling shadow than normal, like a baseball. It exploded over the side of his head, shattering his horn to bits as it detonated with crackling power. However, it started reforming shortly after. Shadow Ball!

“Damn it!” Rend yelled out. He started sprinting towards them, like a feral animal, with claws ready to strike. “Across the land of elves, demons, humans, and more. I will kill them all. Never again will I be trapped. All will fear... Rend Devilclaw!”

His blade-like fingers sliced into the asphalt, as Deena had blinked behind him. She had a calm composure, and one hand in the air, with fingers pointed skyward. The red eyes beneath her cap squinted. “You still talk to much.”

“Wait.” He sniffed. “I do remember this. That cold exterior. There's more on you too. It's a smell I hate the most. Eldrian.” His eyes widened, and then he screamed, “Where is Eldrian?”

She clenched her hand. Beneath him, the trap set off, and black bands wrapped up his legs and to his hips, to bind them together like a constrictor snake made of darkness. Not only did they hold him in place, but they were painfully tight—enough to suffocate an ordinary person. Shadow Snare!

“Nowhere you need to know,” she replied.

“You think you can stop us like this?”

“Who's us?”

Rend clenched his teeth. Finally, he wasn't speaking.

From the shadows came their fire-dancing assassin with both of her chakrams still at the ready. With a pivot of her hips, she let loose one, and it burst into flames in the air as it neared the bound demon. It sliced through his arm, beneath the left shoulder, lopping the limb to the ground. It dissolved.

“Damn it!” he cried. With enough struggling, he finally burst free from the bindings, but the strike had taken its toll. His arm regenerated but he was panting, perhaps moreso with rage than exhaustion, however.

From Daveon's hand came a lengthy vine covered in thorns and he held it like a whip. “Who are you working with, huh? Is this about the Elixir again?”

“No, you fool! Nobody knows what happened to that. It probably shattered.”

The creature leapt at Daveon. Though he had a keen eye, at least enough to watch the other two, he didn't think enough to notice the chakram returning to its owner. It stuck into his back, but he was still able to slice a single claw over the skin of the druid's arm, tearing the fabric of the sleeve. It drew blood, but he was still in one piece.

Daveon retaliated by strafing to the side, and lashing out with his whip. It wrapped tightly around the demon's neck, and he then slammed his foot into the ground. The surface beneath Rend's feet cracked, allowing Daveon to take him off-balance, and crash him down to the ground.

“Then why are you here?” he asked. “Just to run around killing until the government grabs you again?”

“She wouldn't let that happen.”

“She, huh?”

Rend clenched his teeth again, and he mumbled a swear.

As she stood, Renatta slammed into him with a barrage of fiery kicks. They caused him to stumble, but he thrust his own powerful food into her midsection, causing her to gag and fall back against the side of a car.

Whistling was heard from afar, and then an explosion. They all looked up to see a flare had gone off in the sky, which burst into an unnatural purple cloud.

With impressive speed, Rend took off.

“Get him!” Daveon threw out his whip again, and it made contact. However, Rend then shifted his form back into its ordinary tiny size. It allowed him freedom from the binding, and his small, dark form disappeared.

“That little sneak,” Deena muttered. “What happened?”

Daveon gazed up at the dissipating smoke. “A signal. Whoever this woman is Rend is working for must have recalled him, and that means whatever they were doing here must be over.”

“Then we need to find the others. Now.”

Renatta pointed down the street. “Somebody is running this way!”

***

Arlandria had the widest barrier she had ever projected out in front of her, and it was taking its toll. It reached about ten feet in each direction. Behind it was her, Kevin, and Eldrian, but the soldier stepped ever closer. Bullets fired against it, but were absorbed by the magic, causing waves of light to ripple out from each impact.

“I can't break it. You're no wizard,” Whitfield said. His eyes scanned over Arlandria closely. “You really are an interesting fellow. I guess we'll figure out what you know when I drag you back.”

“We can't just keep hiding back here, but the military is showing up. We can't fight all of them.” Eldrian squeezed both hands around the staff, lost for what to do. “Maybe we can retreat out of here.”

As soon as he finished his line of thought, he was yanked backwards with enough speed to knock the air from his lungs, and was then tossed to the ground. His eyes opened to see a man with dark skin, short black hair, and a deep grey outfit covered in wrapped up fabric, almost like a mummy. His face was exposed, however, besides a mask around only his eyes, which ended in material that whipped back in the breeze.

“I told you I wasn't alone, boy!” Whitfield called out.

Eldrian looked to him. His left hand's glove was different than the other. On the palm and fingers were metal plates, and he had a feeling it wouldn't be a wise idea to find out why. When he quickly thrusted up to make an attack, the man teleported a distance back.

“You're a wizard,” he muttered.

The man nodded. “Your reckless freedom is what lead the city to how it is now.”

“I see you're not going to change your mind, Bandages.”

“That isn't my name, but I'm afraid you won't stay long enough to find out anyway.”

Bandages brought both hands over his chest and the backs of his arms started to glow vibrant red. He shifted a foot forwards, and was moment away from unleashing his spell. His eyes turned right, but it was too late. Kevin ran in and thrust forward his shield, causing the man to stumble, but more importantly, shattering his spell.

The cigarette fell from Whitfield's lips. “What the hell? A spellbreaker?”

It surprised them. Even Bandages showed a brief shock in his widened eyes.

Whitfield had enough, so he started to run. Arlandria's barrier didn't block the entire street. He vaulted himself up and between the edge of it and the wall of a building, then started sprinting directly towards Kevin. Arlandria could do nothing but make sure the SWAT team didn't fill them all with bullets.

His bat crashed down against Kevin's shield. The boy thrust the baseball bat immediately away, and jabbed with his sword, but unfortunately missed.

In the mean time, Bandages and Eldrian initiated combat. His outfit started to wobble. Then, the wrapped fabrics around his arms unrolled with incredibly speed to wrap around Eldrian's arms. They heaved him up in the air, and slammed him down hard against the sidewalk.

“There's too many of them!” Kevin shouted. “We need to get out of here. We can't fight the entire police force, especially not with just one wizard.”

Arlandria saw a chance. There's no way they would barrage the area with gunfire with two of their own men in heated melee combat. She dropped the ward, and sprinted with her remaining stamina towards her allies. Just before Whitfield was going to strike, she quickly warded Kevin from beside him, bouncing the attack away.

Eldrian stood and fired off a Shadow Ball at his foe. Though it missed, the detonation behind him caused him to stumble forwards. He tired to take advantage of this, but the bandages on his legs snaked out swiftly and attempted to grapple Eldrian's ankles.

He flew up into the air to dodge.

Just as quickly, Bandages blinked into the air above him, and that was when his metal glove grabbed around the boy's throat. They both crashed to the ground, but he was unable to perform any spells. The metal was anti-magic.

Men with pistols started advancing around Whitfield, putting Kevin and Arlandria in a lot of trouble. They were soon surrounded.

“Put the sword down, boy.” The soldier slapped the bat against his palm. “You were all a bunch of fools to come out into the open like this. How big do you think your balls are? This is the United States military you're dealing with. Don't you think we've dealt with wizards before?”

Kevin looked over at Eldrian, who was trapped, and for some reason not using magic. He assumed the worst. Then, after watching the Staff of Lightning become stowed away, he saw one final blow knock Eldrian unconscious.

His hands trembled. After looking to the guns one more time, he retracted the sword and shield back into the forms of a ring and bracelet respectively.

Then he turned to Arlandria.

“You have to run to the others! You're the only one that can get there without being shot, so go quickly! Tell them exactly what Whitfield told us!”

Her eyes welled up with tears.

“Go now!” he said once more before she could respond.

So she ran, as fast as she could, with a barrier projected behind her. The sound of guns firing chased her but she refused to turn around. She just needed to find the rest of her friends.

It took her awhile of running through the streets—too long—to find them up ahead. A purple flare burst in the sky behind her but she didn't stop.

“Somebody is running this way!” she heard Renatta's voice announce.

Finally, she made it, and collapsed to her hands and knees in exhaustion.

Deena knelt down. “What happened?”

The elf was unable to speak, and tears poured down her cheeks. Through heavy breaths, she steadied herself long enough to respond to the answer, though only enough to make it brief. “They were caught.”

“No!”

“There were too many.” Arlandria removed the mask and wiped her eyes. “The military. Spellbreakers. Wizards. So many guns. They had to surrender.”

“We shook the hornet's nest,” Daveon said.

Deena cursed. “We knew we were too. But Eldrian said we had to save people's lives regardless. This is the price.”

“That's not everything.” She slid the mask back over her face, and with Renatta's help, stood back to her feet. “It was something a spellbreaker called Whitfield admitted. This city is being contained. At any moment, everybody in the city's memory will be wiped of all of this.”

“Then we need to get out of here fast. Where did they take Eldrian and Kevin?”

“It was way back there. They'll be gone by now for sure, especially with a wizard. I assume they were teleported out moments after I left.”

“Then who shot the flare for Rend to retreat?”

She shook her head. “I don't know about any of that. I heard it go off, but it was awhile after I got away.”

Daveon held up his phone. “I already told Lucy everything. Some demon was summoning those stone guys, and he's in captivity again.”

“There's no way it was someone's goal to get them captured. Something else happened, and there's only one person that could let us know.” Deena clenched her teeth. “And I'm not looking forward to asking.”

[teachingoutsidethebinary]

Insomnia Cookies: Best Birthday Ever

Summary: Poe, Finn and Bucky plan a special surprise during Y/N’s 17th birthday party.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Reader, Poe/Finn Dameron

Warnings: none, major fluff alert though

Word count: 1852

A/N: So sorry this took so long!! This was a really important chapter for me, and I wanted to make sure I got it right. We’re starting to wrap everything up now, so there will only be a few more parts. As always, thanks for reading!!

Read previous parts here

“Here comes the cake!” Finn announced to the room. Tony dimmed the lights and Poe walked in carrying an ice cream cake decorated with seventeen blue candles. The words “Happy 17th Birthday Y/N” were drawn in a loopy cursive, and icing hedgehogs dotted the space around them.

Y/N blushed and grinned shyly as everyone started singing. Poe and Finn had taken Y/N and her friends from school out to the movies earlier in the day, and now they were celebrating as a family. It was a patchwork family for sure, but to her, it was perfect.

Tony, Sam, and Clint really belted out the last lines, and the others clapped enthusiastically.

“Make a wish!” Nat exclaimed. She held out her camera as Y/N closed her eyes. She paused a few seconds before taking a deep breath and blew out all of the candles at once.

“What did you wish for?” Bucky asked, squeezing her shoulder.

Y/N shook her head. “I can’t tell you!” she admonished. “It won’t come true!”

“Yeah, Bucky!” Steve joked. “You should know better!”

Before Bucky could interject, Poe and Finn began passing out the cake. Of course, Y/N got the first (and biggest) piece, and she eagerly attacked her cake.

“Good?” Poe asked.

Y/N nodded and gave him a thumbs up. “You sure?” he asked uncertainly.

She swallowed her cake and smiled. “Poe, this day has been awesome! I promise.” She crossed her heart for emphasis.

“Okay, okay, just checking,” he replied. He moved over and sat next to Finn on one of Tony’s couches.

“They’ve been acting weird all day,” Y/N whispered to Bucky. “Like all nervous and jittery.”

“It’s your first birthday with them, kid,” Bucky said. “They probably just want it to be perfect.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said uncertainly. “Do you think everything is okay?” Her forehead creased with worry, and her eyes filled with a slight sense of fear.

“Y/N, I swear, everything is fine,” Bucky reassured her. He scooted closer and gave her a side hug. “You’re good, it’s all good.” Y/N nodded and slowly went back to eating her cake.

A clinking glass drew everyone’s attention to the center of the room where Tony was standing. He cleared his throat. “Y/N,” he said, “you are a very special kid. And a special kid gets presents for her birthday, am I right?”

Everyone cheered and clapped as Nat and Clint brought out two large piles of presents. Y/N’s face lit up as they were placed in front of her.

“No way!” she squealed. “Thank you!”

“Don’t thank us until you’ve seen them,” Steve warned. “Some of us weren’t supervised.”

“Hey, man,” Sam argued, “you guys picked the worst time to get presents. Not all of us follow your super soldier schedules.”

“So Sam’s present is bad, got it,” Y/N replied cheekily. Sam pretended to be offended, but he broke a smile when Y/N got up and gave him a hug. She sat back down on the rug and began going through the pile as Nat took pictures.

All of the presents were surprisingly awesome. Clint got Y/N a bow and arrow set that Tony insisted was “for outdoor use only”. Clint shook his head and winked at Y/N when Tony wasn’t looking, and she giggled in response. When Tony whirled back around, she got busy opening the first edition A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, one of her favorite books, from Nat.

“Nat, this is awesome!” Y/N exclaimed, jumping up to give the redhead a hug. “Thank you!” She pulled away and turned the book over. “Where did you find this?”

“Let’s just say I have my sources,” Nat replied, coyly.

“Okay, my turn!” Sam announced, pushing a bag towards Y/N. She carefully rooted through it and pulled out a stuffed hedgehog. “You got a hedgehog pillow at Ikea, remember?” he asked. “I thought you might like this to go with it.”

“It’s beautiful,” Y/N whispered, hugging it to her chest. “Does it have a name?” Sam shook his head. Y/N held it out in front of her in consideration. “How about...Spike?” she asked.

“Spike?” Clint scoffed. “For a hedg-ow!” He stopped as Nat jabbed an elbow into his side.

“It’s perfect, Y/N,” Nat said, sending daggers Clint’s way. “It fits perfectly.”

Y/N nodded in satisfaction and hugged Spike into her chest.

“Open mine next!” Tony said, pointing to a small box.

Y/N tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box to reveal a key card. She held it up and tried not to look too confused at the odd present.

“That’s a key card for a room in the Tower,” Tony explained. “Specifically, your room. It’s on the same floor as Barnes, and you can decorate it however you want.”

“Seriously?!” Y/N asked, her mouth gaping open. “I have a room here?”

“As much as I love torturing Tin Man, I figured he didn’t need to sleep on the couch every time you slept over,” Tony replied.

“Wow, this is...is this okay with you guys?” Y/N asked, turning to Poe and Finn. They both nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, sweetheart!” Finn replied. “Tony asked us first, and we think it’s a great idea.”

Satisfied with their answer, Y/N lept up and gave Tony a hug. “Thank you!” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Anytime, kiddo,” Tony said.

Steve cleared his throat, and Y/N turned to face him.

“This one’s from me,” he said, handing her a box. Y/N tore the paper off and pulled out a large collage picture frame. Steve filled it with various pictures of him, Y/N, and the other Avengers. The words “Friends Forever” was embossed in a fancy cursive at the bottom of the frame.

Y/N carefully traced each picture and smiled at the memories. Steve and Y/N at the top of the Ferris Wheel at Coney Island. Nat and Y/N getting manicures at the spa. Tony and Y/N battling it out on the Wii. Everywhere Y/N looked, she saw happiness. Her happiness, to be exact. It had been so long since she had seen any pictures of herself, and this was a girl she could get used to.

“Steve,” she said, choking back tears, “I love it.” She stood up and Steve met her halfway in a hug.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” he whispered.

Poe clapped his hands and jumped up. “Okay, last but not least!” He jogged out of the room and came back in wheeling a suitcase wrapped in sparkling blue paper.

“What the heck?” Y/N giggled.

“Just open it,” Finn insisted.

Y/N kept giggling as she pulled off the paper. The suitcase was a sleek navy blue, and Y/N spun it around to admire it.

“This is like the Ferrari of suitcases,” she said, running her hands down the fabric. “Thank you!”

“Open it up,” Poe suggested. Finn gripped his husband’s hand nervously as Y/N tipped the suitcase on its side and unzipped the main compartment. A pair of Mickey ears sat inside, and she carefully held them up. She gasped and looked up at Poe and Finn with excitement.

“We’re going to Disney World?!” she shouted.

“We leave next week!” Poe exclaimed.

Y/N yelped and ran over to tackle them in a hug. She sat back down and stared at her hat adoringly.

“What does the back say?” Bucky prodded.

Turning the ears around, she ran her fingers along the the silver stitching on the back.

“Y/N Dameron,” she read. She furrowed her brows, looked up at Finn and Poe and looked down again. “Dameron?” she asked. “I don’t...I’m not...I don’t understand.”

“There’s still more,” Finn urged, pointing inside the case.

Y/N rifled through the tissue paper and picked up a picture frame.

“This certificate shows,” Y/N read aloud, “that on this day of October 14th, Y/N L/N became a permanent member of the Dameron family.” She stopped and gasped. “Are you...am I…?” she stuttered.

“There’s one more,” Poe said, clutching Finn’s hand tightly.

Y/N moved the frame and took out a manila envelope. Opening it, she bit her lip and tried not to cry as she read the document title.

“Adoption papers?” she whispered. “For real?” Once the first few tears escaped down her cheeks, she couldn’t stop.

Poe and Finn both stood up and knelt down next to her.

“We love you so much,” Poe said, resting his hands on her shoulders.

“We would be honored for you to be our daughter,” Finn added, wiping away her tears. “Officially, anyway,” he laughed. “We’ve thought of you as ours from day one.”

Y/N couldn’t speak as she continued to cry, but she nodded her head vigorously, and wrapped her arms around Poe and Finn, hugging them tight. The other Avengers smiled and wiped away their own tears as Nat recorded everything.

“We love you,” Finn said, squeezing her one more time.

“I love you too,” Y/N replied. “This is amazing. Thank you so much.”

Poe cleared his throat and looked at Bucky. “Hey sweetheart, Bucky’s present is in the front pocket. Why don’t you open it?”

Bucky gulped as Y/N pulled out a box from the small pocket in the front of the suitcase. She opened it and found a charm bracelet inside. Holding it up, she examined the two charms that swung gently from the silver band.

“Is that a cookie?” she asked. Bucky smiled and nodded. “That’s so awesome!” she exclaimed.

“A cookie?” Steve whispered to Nat. “I don’t get it.”

“Shhh!” Nat hissed. “She’s looking at the other one!”

Y/N placed the second charm on her palm. It was a small heart with delicate filigree designs all along the outside. Two words were inscribed in the middle of the heart.

“Goddaughter?” she asked, looking at Bucky in awe. “You want to be my godfather?”

“If you’ll let me,” he replied. “Poe and Finn asked me last week, but I wanted it to be your decision.”

Y/N was silent and stared down at the charms again. Her chin trembled as her emotions overwhelmed her again, and Bucky was terrified he pushed her too far.

“Y/N?” Finn asked, gently.

She finally looked up, her eyes swimming with tears again. “I would really love to be your goddaughter, Bucky,” she announced, her voice cracking. She wiped at her eyes. “Oh come on, I just stopped crying too!”

Everyone chuckled as Y/N and Bucky embraced in a hug.

“Pictures!” Nat called. “We need pictures of the new family!”

Poe and Finn posed with Y/N first, and then Bucky joined in. Their eyes were red, and their cheeks were blotchy from crying. But what really stood out were their smiles. They all grinned from ear to ear, and their eyes sparkled. Their joy shone through as Nat snapped picture after picture.

It was by far the best birthday ever.

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety @fab-notfat @cutefandomsdaily @rebekahsprinkle