#but then self corrects once he realises the tracks have already turned off

[fidgetspringer]

Mini track + item search

[btsxmalereaders]

☆ Even in zero gravity, I would still fall for you!

♡ pairing — bang chan x male reader

> genre — fluff | f2l

> word count — 4.3k I don't know how this happened

> summary — chan realises he likes you by not being able to use pickup lines on you

> a/n — i saw a tiktok where chan says he's gonna use a pickup line on felix and my love-deprived self ended up writing this lol i hope you all like it

| 05282021

| Please keep making more whosfan accounts and keep streaming WOLFGANG on the correct platforms!

"Hey, how you doin'?" Chan casually says as he enters the kitchen, trying not to grin and start giggling right away. He even places his hands over the table and tilts his head a little in an attempt to look confident. Felix takes his attention away from the food he is cooking and turns on his feet to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Good?" He answers with an air of suspicion. "Why?"

Chan finally lets out a small giggle, "Oh nothing, I was just thinking that... I am not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together."

And Felix thinks it's a creative pickup line, funny even, but what ends up making him laugh is the way his best friend bends over to start laughing louder and the way his cheeks turn reddish at the embarrassment he's probably feeling.

"That was a good one, I must say," He chuckles. "Not as great as the Optimus Fine one, though. Even if it made you laugh for ten minutes after you said it."

And Chan can only laugh harder at the remembrance, placing his hands over his slightly aching abdomen and gasp for air when he can't handle it anymore. Felix giggles as well and denies with his head, going back to stir what's on the pot.

"Stays keep getting creative when it comes to flirting with you," He speaks again as the laughter finally dies down. "They probably think you might use it on someone you like, and you're here almost crying because you use them on us."

Chan hums, "Well, I don't really like anyone right now."

Felix turns off the stove and makes a -dramatic- pause, turning again to face Chan as he gets closer and squints his eyes. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Chan laughs. "Why would I lie?"

"I don't know, but I don't buy it. Maybe it's the love songs you have as drafts in your laptop."

"Ah, that doesn't mean I'm in love," He explains and takes a seat in front of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "That's why they're still drafts, though. They don't convey the feeling of being in love because I am not in love, you know?"

"Good point, but it still doesn't convince me."

"Why?" He asks again with a chuckle, a little embarrassed by the sudden interest in his - nonexistent - love life. "You know our activities barely give us time for ourselves, so it's almost impossible to have a relationship with someone. At least a formal one."

"You can still like someone and not be with them." Felix shrugs. "So spill it. Who is it?"

And Chan knows he's just messing around with him, but he can't help but feel flustered. "No one! I think so." He almost says it in a whisper; however, Felix doesn't comment on it.

"I still want to listen to those drafts," He stands up and smiles. "Why don't you show me?"

This was not the way Chan expected the conversation to go, so he hesitates a bit about his friend's request. Well, it wasn't unusual anyway, at least Changbin had heard a couple and also helped in the composition of the songs, so having someone else hear them wouldn't hurt. He might even listen to ideas on his part to improve them.

"Okay, I can do that. Next week Y/N will come to the studio and work on something, why don't you pop-up at some point and I can show you?"

Felix nods, "Sounds good! Y/N asked for help for his new album?"

"Yeah, he wants me to listen to some tracks he has been working on." He casually comments, taking his phone from his pocket and leading his attention to the device, so now Felix can't see the slight blush on his cheeks.

"Hm, I haven't seen him in a while. Why hasn't he come to the dorm lately? We should invite him."

"He has been busy with his album, that's why. If you think I leave late from the studio, that's nothing compared to him, he truly spends an ungodly amount of time there."

"So you see him often?" Felix asks with sudden interest, now being aware of how Chan's ears are tinted pink.

"You could say that, yeah. He also spends time on my studio whenever he has the chance. And vice-versa." He shrugs, not finding it odd. You two were really good friends, so it was a normal thing for you to do. "Why?"

"Nothing, I was just curious." He mischievously laughs. "So, next week, you said?"

After a quick glance at the time on your phone, you decide to stand up and stretch your body. It's been a long time since you started working, and you still have a lot to do; and on top of it all, the progress you've made tonight doesn't totally convince you, and that just meant you'd be spending more time in the studio.

As you take your phone again to read your notes, a notification pops up on the top. You weren't supposed to meet up with Chan until later, but in the new message you just received, he tells you that he's free from working on his stuff and you could go earlier if you wanted.

You decide to go; after all, it was nearly impossible for you to concentrate again, and you truly needed to know what does he think about the tracks you sent him a few days ago to finally make an advance. So you grab your laptop after making sure you've saved the changes and the cup of half-drunk coffee, walking out to the long hall and taking the elevator to an upper floor.

The soles of your shoes are dragged across the floor all the way to the studio's door, where you softly knock a couple of times before remembering you already know the password to enter. Your fingers press the buttons, entering code you know by heart at this point, and the door quickly unlocks, making Chan to look your way and greet you with a smile.

"Hey, how have you been?" He sweetly says, seeing you entering the room and placing your belongings on top of the big desk in front of you and taking a seat on the couch behind him.

"Busy. And tired." You murmur and let out a sigh. Chan immediately plays a song at a low volume and takes seat next to you.

"You're still struggling with the track you told me about?"

You nod as an answer and pout, "I am desperate. It's like, no matter how many times I rewrite the lyrics or change the beats, it still doesn't convince me at all and I hate it."

"I get it," He sighs. "But don't worry about it, I'm here to help you out."

And Chan isn't someone who breaks his promises, so the following hours are spent listening to your music, carefully reading everything you've written so far, listening to your ideas and giving you advice.

In between work, he tells you every other joke to make you laugh and feel at least a bit less stressed; and it works wonderfully since he has a long list of dad jokes that take you off guard, plus his laughter is contagious, so not laughing with him is impossible.

It's no surprise that his advice and opinions are so accurate to the point of clearing your mind and helping you out of your creative block. Chan has always been hard-working and so good with words that every time you engage him in conversations, you feel more relaxed and less burdened. No matter what situation you had a problem with, Chan would always help you find the best solution for it. Maybe that's why you admire him so much, maybe it was one of the many reasons why you didn't hesitate for a second to go to him and find security in his presence and words... Maybe it was one of the thousands of reasons why you had romantic feelings towards him...

"Is it better now?" His voice takes you out of your thoughts. He's sweetly smiling at you; he probably realized you got lost on the way his lips were moving as he told you his thoughts on the recent draft of your song.

"Yeah, yes, honestly, you've helped me so much. I don't know what I'd do without you." You smile and go for a quick hug, taking the opportunity to ruffle his hair. Your fingers sliding between his soft and messy curls and making him fondly smile in the process. "You're my hero. I mean it."

Chan chuckles and can't keep his eyes off you as you type something on your laptop and hum. He recalls the conversation he had last week with Felix, and that ambiguous feeling settling on his chest makes him wonder if, after all, his friend was right. He doesn't remember when was the last time he felt the urge to hold someone in between his arms and dearly appreciate, and he wants to know why he smiles and feels his stomach tickling when he sees you.

Maybe it's because you spend a lot of time with him, a voice inside his head says. But he doesn't feel this way with any other friend.

Maybe it's because you have known him for a long time and you just appreciate him a lot, the voice tries again. Maybe. He finally gives in at the last thought. He'd have to figure it out.

His phone buzzes inside the pocket of his jeans and he takes it, knowing for sure it's a message from Felix.

"Felix is arriving in a few minutes." He murmurs, making you take your eyes off the screen. "He wants to listen to some songs I have, is that okay?"

"Of course, it's your studio, silly." You giggle. "I am almost done with this, so if you're gonna be busy I can go back to m-"

"You can stay, if you want to." He quickly adds. "Plus, he says he wants to see you, you know... He misses you." Chan laughs. He wasn't lying, but that wasn't the only reason he wanted you to stay.

"Okay! Sure, I haven't heard from him in a while, either." You nod and keep making changes on the file you have open.

Just as he said, Felix enters the room just a few minutes later, smiling brightly and immediately running to give you a big hug once he sees you.

Soon, the room was filled with laughter and long conversations to catch up on everything around your lives. Felix tells you about the new pastries he baked last week and that he was waiting for you to come around and bake with him, the new video game Jeongin bought and has been playing with Hyunjin, the new songs Changbin and Jisung have been working on and how Seungmin was learning to play piano, playing songs at night for everyone at the dorm.

"And you know? Chan hyung has gotten better at flirting." He laughs as the latter gives him a threatening glare. "He can't stop saying pickup lines whenever he has the chance."

"Ah, really?" You chortle. "You haven't said one in all the time we've been here."

"Well, we've been working, and I've told you many other jokes... Besides, it's not like I come up with them out of nowhere."

"Yes, you do!" Felix says. "You do that all the time, what are you talking about?"

You glance at Chan, who's currently blushing and at the loss of words. Felix, on the other hand, seems to be happy to see what he just provoked. And he'd definitely enjoy every part of it.

"I want to hear one! C'mooon!" You laugh. "Please?"

Chan rolls his eyes and tries to look confident as he would normally do. He clears his throat and thinks of a good pickup line he hasn't used yet.

"Alright," He says and smiles, he even thinks it's gonna start laughing before even opening his mouth, but the very moment he looks into your eyes, it's like he forgot every single word on his vocabulary. "Uhm, are you, no. Did you-? Wait! I forgot what I was gonna say-"

Felix can't help but burst into laughter, and you only look at him, as if you couldn't believe it. Was he nervous or was it because of the fact that Felix was in the same room? Would it have been any different if he weren't there?

You end up laughing at Felix's loud laughter, as well as seeing Chan blushing up to his ears and hiding his face behind his hands, probably also in an attempt to cover the huge grin he now has.

"Wow, that was an epic failure. And I thought you were the biggest flirt on earth." Felix teases him, to which Chan ends up groaning.

He continues talking about other stuff while Chan stops feeling embarrassed, even though he's not able to look in your eyes for the entire time until you have to go back to work.

You close your laptop and stand up, throwing the now empty cup of coffee on the trash bin. After thanking Chan for his help and promising Felix you'd drop by their dorm soon, you walk out of the studio with a smile and feeling your heart beating fast. There was no way you didn't have feelings for him.

"Oh my god, so I was right!" Felix says a few seconds after you left. Chan's first instinct is to cover his face again. "Look who got nervous so suddenly."

"Stop, I- I don't even want to talk about it." He murmurs, feeling flustered and avoiding Felix's gaze. He types something on his laptop and presses the play button, hoping that this way, his friend would forget about what just happened and could focus solely on the music.

And Felix doesn't talk about it anymore. The next few minutes are set by the music coming out of the speakers; the room filling with Chan's voice, singing the love songs that probably no one else would listen to. Felix seems to be concentrating on the lyrics, but Chan's thoughts are solely about you. As he listens to the songs, he is aware of how his skin bristles every time his hands accidentally touch you, the times when your eyes connect with his and you give him smiles every time it happens, all those times when his heart would race when he hugged you.... It's as if all those songs that professed a love he said he didn't feel, started to make sense.

He feels overwhelmed. Maybe if he was aware of it before, maybe if he listened to his heart instead of his head, this wouldn't be a big revelation to him.

Chan pauses the music, and before Felix can ask what's going on, he speaks up: "Why- why did I do that?"

"Did... what, exactly?" Felix asks, confused.

"The pickup line thing!" He blurts out. "I mean, I do that all the time, right? Why did I just forget how to even talk?"

Felix giggles, "Well, have you considered it's because when you use those pickup lines on us you just do it for laughing? To joke around with us, and with Y/N it's because... I don't know, you have feelings for him and it gets real? Like you're flirting with him."

Makes sense, he thinks. He remains in silence for a moment, processing everything that just happened and finally connecting the dots.

"Wait, you just had your epiphany?" Felix jokes. "It took you too, too long."

"I can barely fall asleep, how was I supposed to know I was falling in love?"

"Fair enough." He says, comprehensive. "Are you telling him?"

"Should I?" Chan's eyes sparkle, but he still feels confused. Should he even try? It's been so long since he last felt this way about someone, and given the circumstances of his life as an idol, he felt more reluctant to take the next step. Even more, considering he had just taken the first one by accepting his feelings a few minutes ago.

"I was right all this time by you being in love," He says. "And I am also sure that it's mutual. I've seen you two for a while, you know? I am surprised you didn't come the realization way earlier than this."

Chan giggles. "Alright, I get it."

"But it's up to you now, I guess. All I know is that you deserve to be happy, and you deserve good things... And Y/N is a great person. You should give yourself an opportunity on love."

Chan feels chills as he hears those words. Tonight's even have been too much for him to process, so he'll think deeply about it later.

"Okay," He nods. "Thanks, Lix. You've been really helpful."

"I know, what would you do without me?" Felix laughs. "Now let's keep listening to the songs, I am loving all of them."

Fortunately, the help Chan gave you really made it possible for you to finish the songs in no time. You are just now walking out of a meeting with your managers and the people in charge of the release of the album to set the final details, and you quickly send a message to Chan to let him know the news.

In the meantime, you drop by your studio to clean up a little and maybe write down some ideas for new songs that have been in your mind for a while. After a few minutes, you hear a knock on the door, snapping you out of your thoughts and then feeling confused. You weren't expecting anyone to come. So you slowly open the door, and a smile spreads across your face the moment you realize it's Chan.

"Oh, hi!" You greet him with a hug, immediately letting him in afterwards. He shyly gets inside, taking a seat on a chair and placing a bag on the small table behind him. "What brings you here? I thought you were still busy with you guys upcoming album."

"It's okay, Changbin is working on his stuff now at the studio, so I took the chance to come here and celebrate with you!" He grins. "Congratulations on making your first self-produced album!"

He starts clapping, making you smile; he truly was the sweetest person you've ever met.

As soon as he read your message he went to the nearby cafeteria and bought your favorite drink and pastries, claiming that it was a special occasion and should be celebrated.

"For all your hard work and the success of this album!" He makes a toast as he raises his cup of tea.

Soon you find yourselves immersed in a long conversation about everything that went into creating this album; from when you had the first idea for the concept, to those sleepless nights when he helped you without hesitation. Chan was definitely an essential part of this whole process, so to be celebrating with him right now felt right. It was how it should be.

"You know," Chan clears his throat as another song starts playing. "These past days I've had this thought in my head, and after talking it out with Felix... I am certain about it. And I want to tell you about it. I know I have to."

You frown, feeling curiosity, especially since his semblance has changed to be a bit more serious. He still has a small smile that gives you some kind of tranquility, but another part of you can't help but feel nervous as he gets a little bit closer.

"Of course, what is it?"

"So, uhm" He starts. "Some weeks ago, when Felix came to the studio and we were talking with you... Well, the reason he came was because he wanted to listen to some love songs I've worked on. And, after listening to all of them I figured out why I didn’t like them. I was sure I wasn't in love. That's why, to me, they all sounded plain and didn’t convey the feeling of love... But then..."

He makes a pause, catching his breath as he feels more and more nervous. He knows for sure his ears and cheeks are red right now, and it's impossible that you haven't noticed it. His hands slightly shake behind the table, anxiously looking for yours, but refraining from doing it because he doesn't know how this was going to end. You don't want to interrupt him, so you give him his time to clear his head and talk again.

"While listening to those songs, the only thought I had in mind was you." He finally confesses, with his gaze now fixed on his lap. "I guess that for a while I didn’t realise that I started to, uhm, catch feelings for you. And, it's okay if you don't feel the same way about me. I just really wanted to let you know because the thought has been on my mind for so long and I needed to let it out."

For a moment, the only thing that can be heard in the room is your voice coming from the speakers along with a sigh from Chan, who still didn’t dare to look up and face you.

"So... what you're saying is..." You speak up, feeling incredibly shy, trying to process the words addressed to you.

"What I am trying to say is that I am in love with you."

And you swear you could start screaming to the top of your lungs right now, but you try your very best to stay calm and finally grab Chan's hands. With that, he looks at you again.

"Channie," You softly say, looking at him in his precious eyes and dearly smiling. You don't even know where to begin, but a voice inside you begs for you to give him a hug. So you open your arms and embrace him tightly, feeling instant comfort and love. "I am so glad you feel this way too. I love you too."

Chan sighs in relief, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer; his nose pressed against the crook of your neck and closes his eyes, melting between your arms and enjoying every single second of that gesture.

"Wait a minute," You say out of nowhere, so he separates a bit from you and tilts his head. "That's why you couldn't even say a sentence when you tried to say a pickup line?"

You laugh when his expression changes to look ashamed, his lips frowned in a pout and his gaze avoiding your eyes again.

"Try again, I'm sure you're good at this." And Chan's head only comes up with the dozens of lines he has read, but seeing you smiling right in front of him and your arms over his shoulders, he can only think how lucky he is. He can't possibly say anything to you. "Alright, let me try instead."

You hum and recall all the pickup lines you've read and have been told before, "Hm, can I borrow a kiss? I promise I'll return it."

And you expected Chan to start laughing out loud, instead he starts blushing again and giggling, covering his face as he feels nervous.

"C'mon! Seriously?" You laugh and wait for him to stop being shy.

"You make me nervous, give me time." He excuses himself and laughs some more. "That was a good one, and you know what? You can borrow all the kisses you want, as long as you keep your word and return them."

"See? That's what I'm talking about!"

Chan fondly smiles at you, placing his hand on your head to pet your hair for a moment. You close your eyes as he does it, feeling his soft touch traveling all the way down to your chin. He rests his thumb on your cheek and after a few seconds you decide to open your eyes.

"Can I?" He murmurs as his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips.

"You don't even have to ask."

And just as you give him permission, he breaks the distance between you two. He starts carefully, placing his lips against yours in a tender, chaste way, barely there pressure that makes you exhale through your nose as if you had been holding your breath all along. One of his hands still holds you by the waist, so he takes the opportunity to slide it to your lower back, carefully holding you and sending you shivers to your entire body.

You lean forward barely a few millimeters, but it's enough to feel more pressure over your lips. Chan angles his head and traps your bottom lip, tongue trying to dart out of his mouth to taste more of the sweetness of yours. He, however, contains himself and smiles in between the kiss, instead. He was probably gonna be the death of you.

The deep kiss loses intensity as a minute passes by, so you two end up giving smaller kisses and share smiles, your noses constantly touching in skimo kisses. And you think it's perfect; it's way better than what you one day imagined.

Chan can't miss the chance to make you sit on his lap, so now your head rests over his chest. Your fingers fidgeting the hem of his hoodie and shyly longing to intertwine your hands.

"Hey, Y/N?" He grabs your attention and smiles. "Are you a parking ticket?"

You raise an eyebrow, "Why?"

"Because you've got fine written all over you." He ends up with a muffled laughter.

"Oh no, what did I just get myself into?" You joke around, this time finally making him burst into a louder laughter. "You just declared war on me about pickup lines, you know?"

"Oh, so you got some lines, too? Can't wait to hear all of them, then."

And for the rest of the day you let yourself be held in between the arms of the person you loved the most. Later you'd find the way to flirt with him and make him feel flustered when he least expects it.

[cazimagines]

Born to be wild - Chapter 4

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren’t prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: To make up for the lack of Niki last chapter, I'm hoping to get these chapters out more regularly!

Warnings: Swearing

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Born to be wild masterlist

Previous chapter

You twirled your spanner in your hand, feeling the harsh metal catch on your skin as it grazed over it. You were eyeing up the car before you, determining all the ways you might improve the machine to your liking. You wore your blue jumpsuit which had already obtained oil stains without even getting near the car yet. Today the garage was empty, most of the crew having the common sense to take a day off unlike you. You knew from driving it that the car needed to be improved and instead of telling your team and risking offending them, you took matters into your own hands. Plus you were just itching to get your hands dirty.

You climbed down onto your knees and then onto your back, pushing yourself under the car to observe the underside. The thing needed a clean, rust and grime underneath it making you grimace but at the moment that wasn’t what you were focused on. You started to loosen a few of the screws in order to access some of the wiring. If you were able to get to the inner part of the engine, you might be able to rewire some of the boosters improving your speed.

As you got to work you were humming to yourself a tune you had heard on the radio this morning and so you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching you. As the top half of your body was under the car, you didn’t notice the man approaching and then leaning on the wall beside you, observing your movements.

“You’re just wrecking the engine.”

A groan left your lips as you heard that Austrian accent ring out across the room, sending a wave of irritation straight through your body. Of course, if anyone would be here during the off day, it would be Niki Lauda and seemingly he was still pissed about the other day and had come over deliberately to test your patience even further.

You grasped a hold of the panelling and thrusted yourself out from under the car to glare up Niki who was looking down at you.

“You really have nothing better to do than come and ruin my day?” you spat out to him.

Niki tilted his head as he observed you, his eyes narrowing for a moment in a way that always made you feel self-conscious as you wanted to know what he was thinking about you.

“I am merely doing you a favour and correcting your mistakes,” he finally revealed, raising his voice in a light hearted manner though you knew it was really cover for his mocking tone. Knowing this, in response you snort, shaking your head at the man as your lips twitch into a smirk.

“Yeah right, like I’d believe that.”

“You don’t trust the word of one of the best drivers?” he asked, his lips dipping down into a frown.

You placed your hands down on the concrete floor and steadily pushed yourself up to your feet so Niki was no longer standing over you, instead you stood face to face with the man.

“I don’t trust the fact that an asshole would want to help me at all, especially with how rude you were to me previously.”

“I was justified in my actions. You made a stupid move,” he stated as if it was obvious.

You groaned again in amazement, throwing up your hands, shaking your head as you spun away from him for a moment, not wanting to even look at him but the pressure to get the last word made you turn back around.

“There it is again, your arrogance is astounding.”

“I am merely stating what happened, I can’t help the fact that you can’t accept the truth.”

“You speak about accepting the truth.” Niki scoffed, looking away in thought, looking perplexed by the mere idea of it. His angry eyes quickly snapped back to your own though when you say the next words. “You can’t accept that there are better drivers than you.”

“What, like you?”

“I could beat you in a race!” you exclaimed without thinking. All you could feel was the anger towards Niki creeping up in your veins again, making you be irrational.

“You didn’t last time.”

“Yeah well, why don’t we test it out again? Just me and you on the track.”

Niki rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his body. “Why would I waste the tires, fuel and risk my life for a petty race?”

“Fine if you want to be a pussy and back out of it...”

You turned your back to Niki to polish the front of the car but you knew that the remark would make him frown at you, his ego damaged. You could feel his eyes burn into your back, his gaze apparently unwavering until after a few minutes of thoughts racing through his mind he came to a decision.

“Fine, if you really want me to prove to you again that I am the better driver,” he states as he quickly turns and walks out of the garage. You run after him to shout out and get the last word,

“You’ll be eating my ass!”

He turned around again at you, briefly a smirk appearing on his thin lips.

“We’ll see.” he shouts back and then saunters into his garage, once again taking the last word.

You weren’t prepared to take the car out and you knew the team would not be happy with you for doing so but Niki made you so mad you had no control over your own decisions. You were irrational and hot-headed around him and now that led to you driving the car out onto the track and waiting for Niki to pull the car up beside you.

Niki sent you one last sarcastic look with a raised eyebrow through his helmet. Driving over to the starting line, the two of you agreed on a count down. When ready the two of you started to count down from three and as you both hit zero, the two of you shot forward, speeding side by side as you started the race along the straight line of the first part of the track.

Soon however the two of you reached the first turn of the track. Niki once again took the underside and pushed forward on the accelerator he took the lead. As he turned the corner he slammed the break making the car drift as he made a sharp turn, quickly getting around the corner. He ensured the car took up most of the track however to make sure you wouldn’t try and get past him again like last time.

You quickly pushed around the corner as well but you weren’t able to pull off as sharp of a move, therefore not being as quick as him and subsequently finding yourself stuck behind him. Pushing down on the clutch and turning the wheel, you were able to reach back up to Niki’s side, who had been driving at a leisurely pace, his arrogance already believing he would stay in front. So when he saw your car drive past his left side, his head quickly snapped to you in surprise and then back to the road, clutching the gear tighter.

He caught up to you again, and this time he started to drift slowly left cutting you off the track. You instantly had to pump the brakes to slow down and avoid a potential collision as he pushed over. It was a dirty move on his part, from someone who was mad at you for less and the thought of it had you fuming.

Once again you pushed forward in the car, attempting to catch up with Niki but he was able to push the car further, keeping the distance between the two of you. Another turn came up and Niki was able to make a smoother and more closed in turn whereas you had to go wide which cost you a few more seconds of time.

Still putting everything you got in the car, you slammed the accelerator and rushed forward again to get side by side with Niki as the two of you turned another corner together. Now it was the final straight strip of track and the two of you were neck in neck. Both of you were pushing on the accelerator trying to get the car to go faster, however, Niki had obviously worked on his car improving it’s speed as he shot forward and past the finish line first.

He pulled up ahead of you as you slowed down and stopped on the track, hitting your head against the steering wheel to let out your frustration. You had been so certain you could beat Niki and yet once again he won against you and you knew he would be holding it against you. As you looked up now you could see the very man had taken off his helmet and was strutting towards you with a very self-serving smirk.

You knew you couldn’t hide away from it, that would just be cowardly and something he certainly wouldn’t forget so instead, you gathered the strength to pull yourself out of the car, yanking your helmet off and turning to Niki.

“I told you-” he began and instantly made you roll your eyes.

“Yes, go on and brag about it. I know you will be for the rest of the year.”

Niki chuckled and looked away for a moment, flicking his tongue over his lip then glancing back at you.

“I don’t need to brag, you will always remember how I beat you fair and square today.”

“You’re such an asshole” you murmur, starting to turn away from the man but still he continued to talk to you.

“Can you think of any other insult apart from an asshole?”

You shot back around to him, your eyes glaring.

“Yes, motherfucker, wanker, jerk, twat, pain in my ass,” you paused for a second, “Rat.”

Niki just crossed his arms, his eyes gazing over you as his tongue flickers out again. “Not creative enough, James already calls me all of those.”

“Are you just determined to criticize everything I do?”

“You’re angry, that’s good. Use your anger to focus your driving.”

“Why would you want to help me?”

“I don’t, the worse you are the better for me. However, if your driving improves, you are less likely to cause an accident next time.”

Heat flared up inside of you realising his alter motives but before you could shout any words at him, he had already turned around and was walking away from you without looking back once.

TAGS: @lieutenantn @greeneyeblondie44 @lorna-d-m @cable-kenobi @zemosimp05 @edencherries @hofficoffi @somethingthatsaysbubbles @apparrio @vverliebt @shadowycollectiveduck @alindeluce @scuttle-buttle @handmaiden-of-mischief @rumblelibrary @nyx2021 @fictionlandslanddreams @darksxder @liaDameronDjarin @daniel-bruhhl @aedeluca @trashbin2 @livvyshmiv @nymphalbee @black-mistress-of-evil @laura-naruto-fan1998 @danielbruhlswife @stilltoomuchafangir @hannahbal-the-fannibal @hungrhay

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[writingsbychlo]

strip it down | thomas

word count; 7894

summary; your best friend ask you if you’ll spend your summer break keeping fit with him so he’s ready for track returns in the fall, but he’s pretty distracting.

notes; this is based on an ask that I got, inspiring it, and it was just too good to pass up, so I hope you like it!

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, public sex, reference to injury, very brief reference to drink spiking (past tense).

You were just beginning to surface, enjoying the summer break you were getting for college, and happy to spend the summer in your own place. It was quiet, your roommate getting ready to go home, and you would have the apartment to yourself for weeks. Squeezing the pillow in your arms tighter to you, you froze, the bedding beneath you rising as it took a breath, and you jumped back.

Sitting up in your bed enough to rub your eyes, you growled a little as you recognised the chuckle that sounded, opening your eyes to find your best friend staring at you, his phone in hand as he slumped across your bed.

“Mornin’ angel.”

“What the fuck are you doing in my bed? You scare the life out of me, and it���s-” You twisted, picking up your alarm clock, one that had been promptly turned off seeing as it was summer break, to check the time, “-eight in the morning? Really, Tommy?”

“Did you know that you cuddle in your sleep?” He ignored your question entirely, and you sat up in the pillows beside him, the bedding still covering the lower half of your body as you covered a yawn, realising that you weren’t going back to sleep any time soon. “It was cute. Like, the second I got myself all comfy here, you put your head on my stomach, and a leg over mine, holding on for dear life.”

“Thomas-”

“Also, continuing with the cute cuddling thing, if I play with your hair while you sleep, you get this sleepy little smile, a-”

“Thomas!” His jaw snapped shut, turning to look at you, honey brown eyes catching flecks of the sunlight pouring in through the now open curtains, and it was no wonder you’d woken so early of your natural self, his lips pursed as he stared at you curiously. “Tell me what you’re doing here so early in the morning, right now.”

“Only if you tell me whether or not you knew that you cuddle in your sleep, first.”

“No, I didn’t know that. I’m not really a sleep-cuddler, I’m very picky about positions.” His jaw dropped, a cheeky look flashing over his features, and you held up a finger, shaking your head and shutting down the innuendo he was about to release. “Sleeping positions.”

“Just me, then? That’s adorable.” He tapped the tip of your nose, before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, standing up and stretching a little, the edge of his shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of his stomach, your eyes diverting. “You have a very comfortable mattress, is that memory foam? Anyway, the reason I’m here.”

“Finally.”

He shot you a mock glare, rolling his eyes at you. “You have to get up, because I want to go for a run.”

“And I want to go back to sleep, so that's gonna’ be a hard pass on the physical exertion. Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to keep being lazy.” He frowned, and you grinned, rolling over onto your other side and turning your back on him, and he scoffed a little. A second later, the covers that you had wrapped yourself up in were being tugged back and out of the way, a groan on your lips. “No, Tommy, let me sleep! If you’re really my best friend, you’d let me sleep.”

“No, if I was really your best friend, I’d carry you all the way back from the club on a Friday night after you called with your head in a toilet bowl because you got spiked, and stay by your side all weekend until I was sure you were okay.” He tapped his chin for a second, your stomach twisting just at the memories. “Oh, wait, I already did that.”

“That was low.”

“If you were really my best friend, you’d come on a run with me so I have company while keeping in shape for my track return in the fall.” He grabbed onto your ankles, pulling you down the bed toward him, and you yelped at the action, half of your bed hanging off of the mattress as you stared up at him in shock, his hands on his hips as he smirked. “C’mon, please? Minho is out of town, and I hate running alone.”

“Fine, but only if you buy me a smoothie fro-”

“From Annie’s Café? Blueberry, yoghurt and a dash of lime?” He reached over to the nightstand, a paper cup you’d failed to notice, and you sat up, reaching for it as your body moved closer to his, and he handed it to you. Peeling back the lid, you found it was perfect, the scent of the mixed fruits being a perfect combination. “I already got it on the way over here.”

“Okay, fine.” He cheered loudly, watching as you took a sip of the drink you had, humming happily at the taste that was exploding over your tastebuds. “Go get me some clothes.”

“You’re the best.” He held your face, peppering your cheeks with

You waved a hand in the vague directions of your drawers, knowing that he was familiar with where your things were, having helped you pack and unpack over the last few years, much like you had him, your final year of college bringing around a friendship that had lasted since the first day, and you crossed your legs on the bed, waking up a little more as you sipped your drink.

He dug through the drawers, chucking a pair of leggings in your direction, a sports bra following it, and some socks, and he stared at you inquisitively for a second, eyes scanning down along your body, licking over his lower lip. “Do you wear panties to bed?”

“Thomas!” You threw the empty smoothie cup at his head, and he ducked, laughing loudly as he avoided the assault.

“It’s a practical question! So, I know what to pass you!” You rolled your eyes, scooping up the clothes and looking over the bundle.

“Where’s my top?”

“I passed you one!” He paced back over, picking up the pink and grey undergarment, and waving it before your face. “See?”

“That's a sports bra! I need a top!”

He raised a brow, and you didn’t realise your poor choice in wording, his playful mood taking over. He moved back over to you, hands finding the edge of the bed, and he crawled up toward you as you edged back toward the pillows, placing a foot on his chest to keep him away as a smirk took over. “I could be your top.”

“Quit it, you perv!”

“Oh, so you wanna’ be on top?” He rolled onto his side, head propped up on his hand, wiggling his brows, and you scoffed, standing up with the bundle of clothing, and moving to the bathroom to get changed, his laughs echoing behind you as you went.

Shutting the door, you rolled your eyes at the muffled sounds of him moving around your bedroom on the other side of the wood, your face splitting in an uncontrollably wide grin, cheeks warm to the touch with a blush.

Brushing your hair and pulling it back into a style enough to run with, you turned on the taps, toothbrush first as you scrubbed at your teeth to clean them, drifting into your thoughts. Thomas had been your friend for a long time, the two of you having met on your first day in a freshman biology lecture, and even when you’d switched your major a few months later, he still stuck by your side. He’d been someone you could rely on and depend on since your very first day of real independence and adulthood, and so he had embedded himself permanently in your life.

You cleaned your face too, feeling refreshed as you went, before swapping out your clothes, folding your pyjamas up neatly, and unlocking the door again. Thomas had pulled the sheets on the bed neatly done, sitting on the edge, and smiling at you as you emerged.

“Ready to go, pretty lady?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be for exercise at the crack of dawn.” He looked like he was going to correct you, but your mock-glare made his lips zip back up again, standings and brushed himself down. Grabbing your keys, and locking up the apartment as you went, you let him take the small piece of metal, tucking that into his pocket too, and placing a hand on your lower back to guide you through the halls. “Just so you know, I haven’t done exercise in years. I’m going to make it, like, a mile. That’s it.”

He turned to look at you, nothing judgemental, just a fond smile as he held open the main door of the building for you to pass through first, the busy streets of the early morning crowding around you suddenly. “How about, we just go and jog around the park over there, huh? It has those nice trails through the woods, too.”

You glanced out, a hand shielding your eyes from the summer sun, a park you’d rarely had time to venture into, once on a picnic with Thomas and his friends last summer, but that was about it, and so it would be nice to explore it a little more.

Tightening your hair as you approached the edge of the grass, choosing one of the trails from the sign at the entrance of the park, quickly settling on a short one with plenty of scenery through the trees. The pace started slowly, and Thomas was happy to fill the silence with chatter as you went along, breaking out in a sweat long before he did, the sun beating down and your heart pending in your chest, throat growing dry, but you were willing to just push through it.

It truly was beautiful, the early morning sun was something you rarely go to experience, either locked up in class or the library, or catching up on much-needed sleep, and Thomas had always been the opposite of you in that respect, He was good with the mornings, the athlete in him woke him up when the sun rose, sometimes even beforehand, while you preferred late nights and the dark hours of the day.

Sunlight filtering through the trees, dogs playing in the grass of the main park before you got too far away, the rustle of leaves underfoot and the gentle breeze, the smell of flowers in the air. It was a memory you’d forgotten even having before getting caught up in college and stress, shutting yourself off as you buckled down for your education and career.

The first half-hour or so was a breeze, despite the sweat you broke out in and the pounding of the blood in your veins, you became accustomed to it, listening to Thomas talk. You held up your conversation, the two of you making plans for the summer before you returned to classes for your final college year, and you planned to make the most of it since you’d both have such unlimited time together.

In the second half an hour, the pace picked up, Thomas going quiet, occasional smiles that he gave you, before his skin began to shine from the exertion too, and you were swallowed thickly. Hair matted to his forehead, tanned skin only enhanced with veins that crawled along his forearms, blood pounding much like your own, and he was working at a faster pace than you as you became tired, only just having passed halfway around your set, jogging before you.

You tried to control yourself, but his shirt was stretched across his shoulders, the muscles in his back standing out, shifting under the thin cotton that was damp with patches of sweat, every movement of his arms making it clear, and you had to try and focus, almost swerving off of the path and tripping a couple of times as you failed to pay attention to the forest floor under your feet.

In the final third, everything went to sit. The tree covering thinned slightly, moving toward the centre of the day as the sun shone in the sky, almost directly overhead, and the temperatures were shooting up. Thomas had slowed to meet you again, growing slightly tired himself as you felt like you were dragging dead limbs along, sure you’d be achy and unable to move tomorrow, and at some point, as you’d dipped your head, you’d noticed the bounce.

It wasn’t your fault, your eyes were just drawn to the movement, almost choking on your own spit as you realised just what was bouncing under the thin basketball shorts, your eyes squeezing shut for a second and trying to clear the image from your mind, your brain going hazy and the rubbing friction between your thighs suddenly becoming prominent to you as you ran, wanting to squeeze them together.

You kept going, swallowing the lump in your throat and shaking your head clear. But then his arms were flexing, reaching behind his neck to tug his shirt away from his body, and your mind went blank. Shining abs, the smattering of dark hair between toned pecs and down to his happy trail making your mouth water, sweating skin glistening in the sun as he moved, muscles bouncing, like some kind of Baywatch audition, and you couldn't be held responsible.

Your feet got caught, a loud popping sounding before searing hot pain radiated up your leg, a cry leaving your lips as you hit the ground, rolling to as top, before splaying out in the dirt, a little dazed and confused. Thomas popped into view, concern written all over his features as he talked a mile a minute, so fast you could barely understand what he was saying as his hands found yours and he pulled you up, your eyes sweeping over him. Oh, right half-naked secret crush. That’s right.

“What the hell just happened?”

“I fell.” He let out a weak laugh, worry still holding his brows furrowed, though, and you reached out to him, smoothing your thumb over his forehead to rub away the creases in a way you’d done so many times before, particularly before exams. His features softened as you did, and he let out a little sigh, standing himself and pulling you to your feet. As you put pressure on your ankle, it gave way, and you wanted to scream, possibly even die a little, as you tumbled forward into his chest, his arms wrapping around you. “Nope, no. Ankle says no thanks, no today.”

He grinned, scooping you up under your legs, and carrying you over the grass at the edge of the pathway, luscious and thick green as he set you down, finding shade under a large tree, hidden by some bushes to shield your eyes, before he was kneeling before you. His fingers skimmed along your calf, your leg twitching as he did, before he was pulling up the edge of your leggings to get a look at it.

He hissed a little, fingers running over the patch, registering where the skin was already going hard, and the way you cried out and jerked at the touch, pain coursing through you, and he apologised each time, a sigh on his lips. “I don’t think it’s broken, just a bad strain. It’ll take a while to heal, though.”

“So much for our summer plans.” You whispered, his eyes finding yours, and you swallowed thickly, embarrassment creeping in. “I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“What the hell are you sorry for? It’s my fault you’re hurt.” it was your turn to be confused, his head dropping and eyes hidden from yours. “You could still be tucked up safely in your bed, totally not injured, but I made you come for a run.”

“Thomas, look at me.” He didn’t, still adjusting your leggings back over your ankles as he undid and retied your laces, tighter to keep pressure on the injury for now, and you hooked a finger under his chin, forcing him to look up. “Tommy, I know I complained, but I was having a  good time. I always do when we hang out, even if we are running ourselves to death.”

His lips flicked up at the joke, but he still looked guilty. “I know, but I should have just worked out alone.”

“But you don’t like that, so I was happy to come with you. Stop beating yourself up.” He sighed, trying to let the tension go, and nodding his head. “Besides, I don’t get all gross and sweaty like this for just anyone, so cheer up, that’s how you know I wanted to be here.”

“You’re pretty no matter what. Sweaty, all dolled up, glitter in your hair at a club or all breathless and sweaty on a run, you’re breathtaking.” His hand came up to sit on your cheek, a thumb smoothing over your skin. “When I wanted you to fall for me, this isn’t quite what I meant, though.”

You stared at him for a second, eyes narrowing, and his usual cheeky grin flashed up, but there was something deeper in his gaze that you’d never taken long enough to notice before. “Did you just flirt with me?”

He looked taken aback for a second, wide eyes and parted lips, before a disbelieving sound left him, and he shook his head lightly “I’ve been flirting with you since the day I met you, but thanks for finally noticing.”

“You have?”

“Uh, yeah.” He deadpanned, your head emptying once again, and you watched as he twisted his body, sitting down on the grass with his legs spread out before himself.

“You took your shirt off.” He paused, looking down at himself, and his cheeks were tinged pink when he looked back up, confused. “You took your shirt off, and my mind just sorta’ went blank, and the next thing I know, I’m on the floor in pain. I’ve been into you since, like, last year. The whole system just short-circuited as you did.”

You waved a hand up and down yourself, and he frowned, not exactly the reaction you were expecting, the fear of rejection racing through you. “So, it was my fault you got hurt?” He looked totally distraught, lips in a pout as he stared at you, and you couldn't take it anymore. “I’m really, really so-”

Pushing forwards, your lips met his, his back finding the grass as your body crashed into him, a groan spilling from him as his brain caught up. One hand sought your waist as you lay atop him, the other lacing messily into your hair and tangling the strands as he kissed you back deeply and passionately, lips gliding with yours. You held yourself up over him, the pain in your ankle disappearing as he kissed you just as eagerly, an exchange that was long overdue.

It was frantic, and needy, his mouth working against yours until the breath was stolen from your lungs and your lips were stinging, desperate for breath but never wanting to part from him, a whine leaving you as he pulled back, gasping for breath much like you were. He pulled away, staring up at you as his head fell to the grass, a finger smoothing over your face as the tomb of the other rubbed circles into your hip, tucking under the edge of your shirt to find bare skin. “We should have done that a long time ago.”

“Yeah, definitely.” You rolled your lips together, licking the taste of him from them as you stared down at his flushed face, whiskey eyes twinkling as he stared up at you. “Wanna’ do it again?”

“Fuck, yeah, I do.” He leaned up halfway to meet you, neck craned and he hummed happily, this kiss a little slower and calmer, testing the waters as the initial shock and desperation died down, and he rolled you over, your back meeting the ground as he settled above you, your back coming down to rest in the soft grass. “Been dreamin’ ‘bout kissing you for years.”

He mumbled the words into your lips, one hand finding your shoulder, sliding down a little lower over your arm, pausing a little as he found your ribs, thumb brushing just under your tits through your clothing, your breathing hitching in your throat. His kisses shifted, trailing along your jaw lightly and your hips bucked up, a groan on his lips as you brushed over him, shy heat flushing your face once again as he paused.

“I meant it, y’know. I realised not long after we met that you weren’t going to return my flirting, but I liked you so much but then, and so I decided I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all.”

His teeth continued to tease your skin lightly, and you shivered under him, his hips dropping down to press against you more firmly, and your eyes slipped closed.

“Pure torture, though. All your pretty dresses, movie nights where we’d cuddle, and you’d wear my jumpers when you came over, looking so cute that all I wanted to do was kiss you until your mind was empty, and wake up to you on lazy Sundays. I want you to kiss before exams and whisper good luck in my ear, before we get to celebrate late at night. God, I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“You are?” It was a startling realisation, your body jerking a little in shock, and he grunted as your core shifted against him, his lips bucking up to you in return this time.

“You don’t have to say it back, but it’s true.”

Your hands came up to find his face, bringing him close enough that your noses bumped and breath was shared. “I love you too, Thomas.”

He whined a little under his breath, nose playing with your own, and you tugged him in closer, until his body was pressed up to yours. The temperature was rising between you, making you feel suffocated as the gaze you were being fixed with by the man set you on fire from the inside out, and you pushed him back, breath caught as you looked at him.

Your hands moved to the hem of your shirt, skin itching to be rid of it as you felt like every nerve within you was speaking with electricity, tugging at it as it was trapped between your bodies, and he moved to help. Peeling your shirt up and over your head, it was a flurried collection of movements, sports bra revealed to him once again, and you sighed a little as your back met the crisp and cooler strands of grass again, his body covering yours as he followed you back to the ground.

One solid hand came up to your thigh, hitching it up onto his hip so that he could settle between your thighs, and as the hardening cock in the thin shorts he wore pressed up to your core, you both let out soft sounds of pure bliss at the friction. Dragging a hand down along his chest, your nail scraped over bare skin, sweat and slick from all his exertion, the dips between pecs and toned muscles twitching and clenching under your fingertips, and he let out a breath sigh into your mouth as his lips found yours once again.

Wet and passionate, his tongue teasing over your lip until you parted them for him once again, and he moaned as your tongue dared to come out and play with his own. You dared your hand lower, fingers brushing across the trail of dark hairs below his navel, until a single finger was tracing over his cock, and he whimpered needfully at the feeling, his bucking up into your touch as your hand was crushing between your bodies, the noises he made making your head spin.

Cupping him fully, you squeezed tightly, and his arms over you buckled a little as you did, his lips leaving yours so that his forehead could press to your own, hot washes of quickly panted breaths coming over your face. “Sweetheart, if you keep that up, I’ll fuck you right here in the park.”

“Sounds naughty. Sounds fun.” You mumbled, a slightly tighter grip as you rolled your hand over him, and he groaned a little under his breath, dipping down for a desperate kiss. Supporting all of his weight on one hand, the other coming down to peel your touch away from him, and pinning your wrist to the warm grass over your head, shaded by the tree the two of you were partially hidden behind, a growl on his lips.

“I’m not kidding.”

“Neither am I.” He pulled back, eyes finding your own as he evaluated your words, finding no joke in your eyes and a dark look crossed over his features, rolling his lips before they twisted up into a smirk.

“You know, I always pictured something romantic for our first time together.” Your breath hitched in your throat, the tip of his nose nudging at your jaw as his lips brushed over the sensitive skin of your neck, tongue brushing as he licked at his lips, and you keened up into him. I” figured it would be after a couple of dates, when I finally manned up enough to tell you how I felt.” He pressed a delicate kiss to your skin, and again, nothing rough about it, not at all what you’d expected, and you lifted a hand to lace into his hair. “I’d take you home, strip you down slowly, kiss every inch of your body until you were breathless, and then I’d make love to you for the whole night.”

“Big promises, think you can last that long?”

“Probably not, you drive me crazy with everything you do, but I’d give it my best go.” He laughed gently into your skin, teeth grazing over the spot where your neck met your shoulders, and he gifted one hand again, to land on your jaw to turn your face to the side, his teeth biting own roughly on that spot, and a loud moan left you as you felt him do so, not enough to break the skin, but enough that there’d be a mark, and your eyes rolled back a little.

His lips sealed over that spot, sucking harshly, and you whimpered a little under his touch, swipes of his tongue thrown into the mix, slow and torturous over your sin, and there would be a large bruise you’d be unable to hide for days to come. “Tommy..”

“I know, sweetheart,” He dipped down a little further, lips working over your skin until he was kissing down toward the edge of your sports bra, the tip of his nose dragging over a perky nipple beneath the elasticated material, and he chuckled into your skin at the needy noise you made. Hot and wet kisses, placed along your stomach, until he had reached the hem of your pants, humming under his breath, his fingers latching into the sides. “Are you sure about this?”

“The sex, or the sex in public?”

He lifted his head, a laugh flailing from his lips, cheeks flushed with warm pink as he stared up at you, an adoring look in his eyes that shone right through his amusement. “Both, I suppose.”

You collapsed back into the grass, feeling his finger twitch where they waited in your waistband, before nodding your head. “I’m pretty damn sure, Tommy.”

He didn’t waste any time, pulling your pants down just far enough to fall under the rise of your ass, bunched around your upper thighs, before your hips were falling down once again, a loud giggling falling from your lips as you did, squirming a little against the floor, and his fingers paused in their motions along the bare skin of your thighs that had been revealed as his brows rose. “What’s so funny, angel?”

“The grass is tickling my ass.” You mumbled, and he paused, your head lifting to look at him in the silence, and his face was split in a wide grin, trying to choke back his laugh as he stared at you, shaking his head.

“You totally just ruined the moment.”

“I did not!” You grinned, giggling as you spoke, before sitting up and moving to your knees, spreading your legs as far as you could with the stretchy material still around your thighs to kneel before him. Taking his hand in yours, you pulled it down, watching as he swallowed thickly, eyes still locked together, and his breath hitched as the back of his palm brushed over your yoga pants. The tips of his fingers traced over your sodden folds, your teeth caught prisoner between your teeth as his jaw dropped, and he took control then. “See? Totally not ruined.”

“You will be,” He mumbled, a threat that had your head spinning, and he was firmer in his movements now, a single digit swirling through your wetness and dragging up until he was bumping against your clit, a sudden cry leaving you as he did, and your fingers dug into the skin of his wrist. “So wet, sweetheart. That all for me?”

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he began to trace slow circles onto the small bud, and he hummed under his breath.

“Thought about this so much, the way you’d look when I touched you, how you’d sound moaning my name, the way you’d feel as you came around my cock. You’ve been all that’s on my mind for so long.”

“Tommy..” You sighed his name out, pushing him a little further, and a dark chuckle left him as you tried to get more, feeling that sam wet pad brush over your entrance. “Please?”

“Use your words, I want to hear you say it.” His other hand came up, cupping your jaw, and you could feel his eyes burning into you, voice becoming raspy as he spoke low and quiet, words for only you to hear as the two of you tried not to draw too much attention to yourselves. His thumb brushed over your chin, dragging your lower from where it was held to press on them, stinging slightly from the scrape of your teeth, before you were parting them, allowing his thumb to press to your tongue. “I want to hear everything that this dirty little mouth has to say, go ahead and drive me wild, angel.”

You hummed around the finger in your mouth, hips bucking up into him as he circled your hole, never dipping inside but make sure to rub across you just enough to catch, making you absolutely desperate, feeling your juices flooding down onto his hand and smeared between your thighs as he kept this up. Sucking tightly on the finger in his mouth, he let out a broken moan, pushing his finger in further to keep you quiet, before one long finger was dipping into you, as far as he could reach.

The teasing, the build-up, everything had been overwhelming, all too much for you, and your whole body trembled at the simple addition, feeling him still as you acclimated to the invasion, before he was curling his finger to press at your walls lightly. “Nothing to say, so soon? I was hoping I’d at least get my cock in you before you were fucked senseless.”

He pulled that wet finger back, smearing over your china s your gasped for breath, and you opened your eyes to look at him. “You really want to know what I think about?”

“I really do.” He pulled back, beginning to set a slow rhythm with his finger, pumping in and out of you slowly, and you needed more. “You ever thought of me while touching yourself like this? I’ve thought of you, when my hand was wrapped around my cock, thinking about how much better it’d feel if it was you. Your hands, your mouth, this sweet little cunt, always you, though.”

Your hands ran up his shoulders, coming up to sit over his neck lightly, feeling the erratic throbbing of his pulse under your hand. “I think about your mouth, all the fucking time.”

Pink lips formed a smirk, his finger being joined by another and beginning to stretch you out picking up pace, and you could feel the knot within you beginning to wind up tight, pulling and twisting as you felt butterflies begin to explode for action inside. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, you don’t know how much you mess with it. You’re always licking your lips, and making these little smirks, and your cute little smiles, You rub at your jaw, and oh God, don’t even get me started on your hands.” You let out a gasp as the tips of his fingers found your sweet spot, exploring within you as he learned what made you tick, what made you moan.

“Right there?”

“Right there!” You confirmed, breathy exclamation of the words, and he focused his attentions on that, your mind going blank as pleasure raced through every vein in your body. You’d wanted this for so long, this kind of intimacy with your best friend.

You were close, close enough that he had a key to your apartment and stated over frequently, close enough that he’d seen you in your underwear before and close enough that you’d shared a bed, cuddling on nights when you were stressed before exams, showing up at his place in sweatpants with tearstained cheeks, and he’d bring you inside without a word.

This was what you wanted though, you wanted his lips on your own, kissing away every sound you made as it became more frantic, a wet sound filling the air, smacksmatchinging of your lips and the atrociously dirty sound his finger s made as they thrust in and out of your wet channel, a peak like no other beginning to take you over, even from the simple foreplay, purely because it was him. “I’m close..”

Your words were mumbled against his lips, and he only groaned under his breath, the palm of his hand brushing over your clit with every movement, the sparks of electricity it created were running along every nerve you had, and you rolled your hips down into his hand, searching for more of that friction as you chased your high right towards the edge. “I can feel you, baby, squeezing my fingers so good. Can only imagine how good you’ll feel milking my cock.”

“Thomas!” He recessed down roughly on your g-spot, nails brushing over your walls lightly each time he pulled back, a combination of filthy sensations that made tears line your eyes as it all became too good. “Tommy!”

“C’mon, baby, come for me. Make a mess on my fingers, like I know you want to.”

His words threw you over the edge, deep voice and dark tone, your face pressing into his neck as you cried out his name, muffling your sounds in his skin as you came, juices washing over his digits as he pumped you through it, shushing you lightly, a mixture with praises, telling yo how goo you were dong, and it made heat crawl along our skin to your cheeks as you realised how much you liked it.

You’d always been independent, relying only on yourself, and then Thomas had stepped into your life and forced you to depend on him just as much, and as he coaxed you through your climax, mumbling sweet whispers about how good you were for him, you crumbled to nothing under his touch. “Feel better, honey?”

“So good.” You whispered, walls fluttering as his hand pulled back, and you retracted yourself from his body long enough to watch him stick his fingers into his mouth, one eye dropping in a lazy wink as he licked the clean. Your hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, letting out a contented sigh as you looked at him. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”

His chest puffed up a little under your touch and at the compliment, your finger moving in feather-light patterns over his chest, making him shake a little as you moved. He moved you, back, laying you down in the grass, slow and intimate, his body covering yours, kneeling between your thighs and moving to peel one leg free of your leggings, your shoe dropping off at your foot and skin raising with goosebumps at the summer breeze washing over flushed skin cooling you down immensely. His hands were supporting him on either side of your head another question about whether you were sure, but this one was unspoken, a look in his eyes said it all.

Dragging your hands along the bare skin of his back, you found the shorts he wore, basketball style, thin and silky under your hands, and you pulled on them, inching them down and far enough over his ass for his cock to spring free, wet and dripping with precum, bumping against you sodden folds, and you took a sharp intake of breath at the feeling.

His hips thrust up, instinctually as he twitched, the swollen head of his cock pumping to your clit, and the both of you let out soft whines at the feeling. Reaching between your bodied, your fingers wrapped around him, his lips parting and eyes sliding shut as you gripped onto his shaft, a few test strokes as he fucked up into your fist, before you were nudging his cock down, lining him up perfectly.

Sinking into you, his hands gave way at the bitten-off cry of your name that he made,  dropping from his hands to his elbows, bodies pressed flush together as your hips sat snugly together, his throbbing length encased within your walls.

“I feel like I just went to heaven.”

You giggled, the movements making you tighten around him and he groaned at the feeling. When you were both ready, you circled your hips against him, rocking up into him slowly, and he reached down to latch a thigh up onto his waist again, no obstruction as your bare leg came up to his body, wrapping and holding him tighter.

“I promise, next time, it’ll be after a date. Something fun and romantic, and when we get home, we’ll be all alone, and I’ll take you apart piece by piece until you're crying my name, but not right now.” His lips brushed over yours, his head tipping to the side a little, before you could fee his cheeks twitch in a smirk. “But right now, I just want to fuck senseless.”

“So do it.”

“I intend to.” He pulled back, almost all of the way out of you, before he was slamming back into you, no warm-up or time to adjust, you back arching up from the grass as you met him, and you barely covered a loud moan with your hand before he was repeating the motion, a grunt on his lips as he did.

Your nails raked over his back, tearing welts into the skin as he picked up to an earth-shattering kind of pace, and just as promised, you were left speechless, absolutely fucked senseless. It was pleasure like none you’d ever felt before, stretched out around his length, long and thick and your breath was punched form your lungs as you gasped for breath with every thrust that he delivered to you. Leaning up, you caught his lips with you own, a kiss that he was eager to return as he let out a soft sound at the connection, lips puckering immediately to return the love, and you smiled against him.

Shifting your hips up to meet him, skin was clapping against skin, drowned out by the sounds of fresh water and birds chirping around you, distant chatter from the other sides of the bushes and trees that you were hidden behind. It was scandalous, the thrill that anybody could simply walk around this side and catch you, half-naked with your loved ball-deep inside of you,  hand over your mouth as you tried to quiet your screams, you weren’t sure what you’d do.

Slipping your other hand between your bodies, you found your clit, rubbing patterns on it to match his thrusts, the high within you building up to reach cosmic peaks. Locking your legs around his waist, you flipped him over, a grin on his face as he found his back pressed into grass, your centre sliding along his length as you sank back down, seated across his thighs.

“Oh, so I take it that you’re feeling better.”

“I’ll probably regret it later,” You whispered, a jolt of pain sparking along your body as you caught your ankle at an odd angle, face screwing up lightly, and Thomas sat up to meet you. Wrapping your legs around his waist at a more comfortable angle, you let out a little sigh, his hands on your hips helping you to move. “That’s better.”

“Mhm, I’m glad.” He whispered, and you whimpered, hands coming up to wrap around his neck as you leaned in, close enough that your lips brushed, heads pressing together softly, and he circled your hips slowly. It was special, breath shared, and while it may be risky and erotic because of where you were, heated circumstances throwing your hormones into overdrive, you knew it wasn’t a mistake, it was the first step through the doorway you’d both been lingering outside of without realising the other was there. “I’m close, sweetheart.”

“I know, me too.” You whispered, picking up your motions and rocking yourself down into his body, every pulse of his cock making stars flash behind your eyes. Slipping a finger between your lips, he brushed the pad over your tongue, waiting for you to soak the digit before he was pulling it away, his mouth closing over your own, hand slipping between your bodies. He tweaked at a nipple through your sports bra, chuckling in the kiss as you whimpered his name, before he was finding the swollen bud between your legs. “Fuck, Tommy!

Rubbing lightly, he had barely begun, before you were tumbling into orgasmic bliss in his arms, locking up around him, body going rigid and your heart feeling like it stopped in your chest as you came undone. He held you tightly, your bodies pressed together, fingers laced into his hair, mouths sliding together in sloppy kisses as you tried to keep yourself somewhat quiet.

Only moments after you came, he was chasing right after you into your peak, his eyes rolling back in his head, tone raising just a little as he moaned your name, cracking slightly and you felt like you’d broken just hearing him say your name in such a way. Ribbons of hot cum filled you, making you shudder as you felt chilled from the outside as he pumped you full, and you felt tears line your eyes. “Oh, fuck.” You whispered, words dragged out as you felt your heart race in your chest, beginning to come down from your high. “That was incredible.”

“That’s an understatement.” He mumbled, lips moving along your jaw in sweet kisses, pressing gently as you waited to catch your breath, sweaty skin now even slicker, the run having had nothing on this kind of activity, as you came down, he flipped you over pressing you back into the grass so that your legs could unwrap from his waist, letting him pull away from you and collapse down onto the sun-warmed ground beside you. Tugging his shorts back up, you stared down at your one bare leg, your shoe metres away, and you groaned, trying to sit up.

A cringe was on your lips as you felt arousal still leaking from your core, and he chuckled, lifting a hand to brush lightly over your skin, watching as you tried to readjust yourself without putting too much pressure on the ankle that was still injured.

“Do you want to get a pizza?”

“What?” You turned to stare at him incredulously, snickering slightly as you reached for your shoe, and bringing back the shirt he’d dropped long ago as you did. Lacing up your shoe once again, you turned to face him, finding him still staring at you.

“Movie night. Me and you. A date. Pizza or Chinese food?”

You grinned, plucking your shirt from the bush-branch it had landed on after being flung away, trying to turn it the right way out once again. “Pizza works for me.” Your words were whispered out, a light sigh as you realised it was officially, and Thomas sat up upon hearing the crack in your voice. Settling a hand over your cheek, he pulled you down to his lips, a smile pressed between you as he gave you a simple kiss.

“I meant it, y’know. Everything I said, about how much I care for you, and how into you I am. I honestly do want us be a couple, have for a while.”

“I’d like that, too.” You mumbled, accepting the hands he was holding out to you, pulling you to your feet before letting go to tug his shirt back on over his head, a wisecrack on his lips about not wanting to cause any more injuries, and hide the marks you’d made on his back. As you stood up and balanced with weight on your ankle, you tested a first step, sighing a little. “Still hurts.”

“When we get back, I’ll get an icepack for you, and let you put your feet in my lap while we watch movies.” You huffed, his arm wrapping around your waist to help you go, and you twisted to look up at him a little.

“I’d rather be in your lap myself.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, turning to press a kiss to your temple. “That works too.”

“I should hope so. Your lap belongs to me now, girlfriend rules.”

“Alright, well that means that cute little butt belongs to me. Boyfriend rules.” His hand slipped down, pinching at your ass lightly, and you jumped, swatting at his hand as you steadied yourself and rebalanced on your feet, wincing at the pain on your swollen ankle.

“You are going to injure me even more.”

“It is not my fault that you can’t keep your eyes to yourself.” You gaped, shoving him with your elbow as he snickered. You continued on you walk, moving in slow and cautious steps as you began to make your way back to your apartment, hoping your roommate wouldn't be home to witness the messy state you were in, grass stains on your pants and Thomas’s knees, because she’d put it all together in seconds. The hand on your waist squeezed lightly, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the moment. “I’m joking, you have o idea how many times you’ve distracted me.”

“Now you can do something about it.”

“Yes, I can.” He beamed, dipping down to press a soft kiss to your lips, and you returned it, heading home for the first date for the man you’d adored for so long. Maybe exercise was good for something.

[iatethepomegranate]

Just a post-Aeor fic where Caleb buys a house with Beau and Yasha in Rexxentrum, becomes a professor, and learns how to be a person and protect people from what he has endured.

Content warnings: Caleb's backstory (a lot of it)

Chapter summary: Caleb's mind was in overdrive. There were so many calls to make, so many spells to prepare, so many things that could go wrong at every stage of this delicate operation, so many plans and backup plans and backup plans for backup plans. He could not let the past repeat itself.

Chapter notes: Say hello to a major plot arc. Also, I did my best to figure out a vague layout of the relevant parts of Rexxentrum but I am bad with directions, so *finger guns*

Chapter title from Eight by Sleeping At Last.

****

Chapter 6: I’m just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence

Caleb’s scars itched as he headed home from the Academy, mind buzzing uncomfortably. His hands were somehow steady as he messaged Beauregard.

“Beauregard. I had an unsettling conversation with Astrid and Wulf. Two Volstrucker students are missing. Felix and Nicolaus. Evocation wizards. May have self-orphan orders.” He realised belatedly that he had forgotten to ask Astrid for a description. Also, he hoped Beauregard never told anyone he had used the term self-orphan. He’d made himself a little queasy in his haste to keep to the word limit.

“I’ll make sure the Soul keeps an eye out. And I’ll get a description from Astrid in the morning. Get over here. Dinner’s ready.”

Beau and Yasha kept the conversation flowing over dinner, absolving Caleb of that social responsibility. He felt useless, sitting here while there were two boys out there somewhere, who were possibly in the process of deciding whether or not to kill their parents based on an implanted memory of treason. If they weren’t found in time, Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself.

The two women hugged him goodnight after dinner, and he shook so hard he feared he would collapse. Yasha held onto him a little longer than she had probably planned, while Beauregard stepped back to take a look at him.

“Caleb.” She had that tone, the one what told him he looked like shit but she was trying not to freak him out. “Maybe you should take a spare room on this side tonight.”

“I’m all right, Beauregard.” He knew he sounded ridiculous. “Hear me out. Please.” Beauregard tilted her head in a silent challenge. “I need to think. I need to process this. I need to come up with plans for every possible outcome. And I may need to make some calls.”

“Do you want to talk it out?”

“I would like to be alone. Just for tonight. We will talk tomorrow.”

Beauregard looked for a moment like she was going to argue, and then she quite intentionally relaxed her shoulders. “Okay. You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?”

“Ja, of course.”

Yasha gave him one last squeeze. “We mean it. Anything.”

“I know. Danke.”

Caleb escaped to his bedroom. He forced himself to slow down a bit, take deep breaths, and get dressed for bed. He settled under the covers, slowly circling his palm over the quilt and feeling the different animal patterns. He’d already committed them to memory. But, on a night like this, it helped to know that what he thought was reality before was still reality now.

What a fucking mess. Before he could get too deep into his head, he messaged Caduceus.

“Hallo, Caduceus. Two of Trent’s students are missing. We suspect memories may have been modified. If we locate them, are you available to help us?”

There was a short pause; Caduceus was probably weighing his response, aware that he would not be able to track the wordcount once he began to speak. “Of course. Let me know when I’m needed. If you could spare a teleport, that would be great.”

Caleb cast the spell again. “I will give you a head’s up when I need you and then grab you from the Grove. Danke. Today has been… a lot.”

“Get some rest, Caleb. I left some sleepy tea in your kitchen if you need it. I’ll be here when you need me.”

That was one problem handled. Caleb burned through another Sending.

“Astrid, Caduceus is on call to correct any memory modification. Beauregard will be in touch with you tomorrow to get their descriptions.”

“Danke. I will ensure the Cobalt Soul is adequately informed. Now go to bed.”

Caleb let him feel her unspoken concern for him, just for a moment. Maybe one day they could be friends again. He curled up beneath the covers and closed his eyes. He would have to ensure he packed Counterspell and Sending every day. Perhaps Hold Person would also be useful. Control Flames would also not go amiss, just in case. And Expeditious Retreat or Fly would be useful in case time was of the essence at any point. Suggestion could be useful if they had the chance to talk. Running through spells he should prepare made him feel a bit better about how little control he had over this.

He was still losing his mind a little bit.

“Caleb,” came Essek’s voice, pumping air into Caleb's lungs. “Apologies. I meant to message earlier. I’m safe. Saved a child’s pet cat from a tree. He hugged me. Strange. How was your day?”

“Intense.” Caleb wasn’t sure how much to say, and he would definitely have to burn more spells to go into any detail. “Astrid promised to find a venue for the ex-Volstrucker support group. Two boys are unaccounted for. We are concerned. They are… almost graduates.”

Before Caleb could decide whether to say more, Essek Sent again. “Are you all right? Can I help with anything?”

“Not right now. We will… see how this pans out. They’re from Blumenthal, and I didn’t hear anything when I was there. May have time.” Caleb burnt another of his own spells before Essek did. “I have Caduceus on standby and Beauregard will talk to the Soul tomorrow. We may have a chance. I hope.”

“I will come in a heartbeat if you need me. Keep me updated. Get some rest if you can. Goodnight. You are in my thoughts.”

It helped, just a bit. Caleb still tossed and turned for a while, unable to turn his brain off. But things were… maybe they were manageable. He had half a mind to take himself to Blumenthal tomorrow, find out where the boys’ parents lived and get them somewhere safe. Or maybe he could… no, they would not handle a stranger showing up at their door in the dead of the night very well.

****

Astrid came to the house the following morning, with sketches for Beauregard to distribute to the Cobalt Soul. It was odd to sit on the couch with her. Like friends would.

“Eadwulf is in the city with the Volstrucker we could mobilise,” she said. “If either of them come to Rexxentrum, between us and the monks, we will find them. I spoke to my guard contact; the families are okay.”

“Have we considered evacuating them?” asked Caleb. The thought had kept him up for a long time last night. Maybe it was the best option.

There was a flicker of discomfort across Astrid’s face for the barest of seconds. “I don’t trust the Crownsguard to handle a delicate mission like that. It would be up to us. Or perhaps the Soul, but I’m already stretching our relationship with them.”

“Yudala Fon knows the stakes,” said Caleb. “If you are not comfortable visiting Blumenthal yourself…”

“Are you?”

“I have been once. I can bear it again to save half a dozen lives.”

They both knew it wasn’t just the parents whose lives were in danger. If Felix and Nicolaus followed through on this and were not stopped…

Well, Caleb had lost eleven years, and then another six running and running and running. Astrid and Wulf had lost their freedom as well. And Caleb could not even begin to comprehend the special kind of pain it would bring these boys if they murdered their parents only to discover Trent had been in prison for weeks, his crimes exposed, his orders no longer in effect. Caleb wasn’t sure he could have survived that.

Astrid must have understood what Caleb was feeling, because she spoke gently. “It is an option. We could also leave them in place under guard to draw the boys out.”

“I would rather not.” Caleb could already conjure a dozen scenarios in which that could go horribly wrong. “Astrid, we cannot fuck this up. You and I both know these boys could overpower a Crownsguard, or sneak past a security detail. No risks. We have to move the families.”

Astrid opened her mouth to respond, and then paused, eyes drifting upwards in concentration. “Thanks, Wulf. Do not engage. Herd him towards us if you can. We will be there shortly.” She focused back on Caleb. “Felix is in the city. Eadwulf is trailing him. They are approaching from the south.” She hopped to her feet, and helped Caleb up. “Shall we?”

As they raced out the door, Caleb messaged Beauregard. “Felix has been spotted. Approaching The Tangles from the south. Wulf is trailing. We are headed to intercept. Could use a hand.”

“I’m in the Court of Colours, southwest of your position. I’ll link up with Eadwulf. Will get the monks to surround. We got this.”

“Beauregard is southwest of us,” Caleb told Astrid. “She’ll try to find Wulf and have the monks form a perimeter.”

“We only have one shot with Felix,” Astrid muttered. “This could make or break everything. No fuckups?”

“No fuckups.”

They ran.

As they drew closer to the suspected middle point, Caleb shot a quick message to Wulf. “We are close to the midpoint. Turning invisible now.” He grabbed Astrid’s hand, hiding them both from view.

Wulf’s response was a whisper. “Slowing down. I think he knows I’m here, but hasn’t done anything yet.”

Caleb was grateful most seventeen-year-old wizards had not yet figured out teleportation. He and Astrid also slowed, still hand-in-hand.

“We try to talk to him before we do anything aggressive,” Astrid whispered. “Get us close.”

“Worst case scenario, Beauregard stuns him and Wulf carries him somewhere we can have a secure conversation. I can try casting Suggestion if necessary, before we do anything to freak him out.”

They turned a corner and Caleb spotted the boy in a crowd of people carrying baskets and cloths and the like, probably headed to market. Felix was slim and blonde, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His shoulders were tight. The pair stayed ahead of him. Caleb spotted the instant Felix started getting a little too nervous, his eyes darting backwards for the barest of moments, towards Eadwulf, buried even as he was in the crowd.

Caleb tugged Astrid’s hand towards an alley before letting go and stepping into it, hoping he had read this right. Felix also turned into the alley, putting his back to the wall of a nearby inn, raising a hand to prepare a spell. Caleb recognised the somatic components of Scorching Ray. He prepared to counter it.

As soon as Wulf emerged, Felix tried to release the spell, and Caleb counterspelled, losing his invisibility.

Felix shook out his hands, still focused on Wulf. “Why are you following me, Eadwulf?”

Wulf raised an eyebrow. “Did you consider asking that before trying to set me on fire?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, and Caleb wondered if Trent had tried to drive a wedge between the Volstruck, and Astrid and Wulf.

Astrid dropped her invisibility, appearing next to Wulf. “Felix, what’s the matter? Are you well?”

Her emergence did not calm Felix in the slightest. “Am I--” He scoffed. “Are you kidding?”

“We have been looking for you for weeks,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I have a mission to complete.”

Caleb considered recasting his invisibility, but the spell required verbal and somatic components. He just had to hold still and hope Astrid and Wulf commanded Felix’s attention until Caleb figured out what to do.

“Felix, you have been gone from the city for a long time,” said Astrid, and Caleb slowly reached for his component pouch. “Things have changed. Your mission, whatever it is, may no longer be viable.”

“We need to take you back to the Candles,” said Wulf.

Caleb felt his snake’s tongue and a piece of honeycomb, and began to slowly extract them from his pouch.

Felix didn’t move. “Why?”

Astrid glanced at Wulf, before evidently deciding on a course of action. “Trent has been arrested. We are trying to gather the Volstrucker so we can explain the charges against him.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Felix, what did he ask you to do?”

“It’s confidential.”

Caleb had the materials in his hand, so he rubbed the honeycomb against his lip, and spoke. “Felix, we are here to help you, but we need you to help us. Could we please have an honest conversation with each other?”

There was a moment where Caleb feared Felix would resist the Suggestion spell, and that Beauregard would have to swoop in and stun him. Felix turned to him, head cocked.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You are Bren, right? Trent talks about you a lot.” He glanced at Astrid and Wulf. “He seemed worried the three of you were scheming behind his back.”

“Let’s head to his old office, ja? We have a lot to talk about. We will answer your questions, if you answer ours.”

“All right. Lead on.”

Caleb could not fucking believe that had worked. Judging from Astrid and Eadwulf’s brief but clearly shocked glances in his direction, they couldn’t believe it either.

****

Caleb couldn’t risk sending a message to Beauregard explaining what had happened, but she seemed to get the sense she shouldn’t reveal herself. Caleb led Felix through the city to the Academy, and up to Astrid’s office. They sat him in front of the fireplace.

Caleb crouched in front of him while Astrid stood by the fire, and Wulf leaned by the door. “Thank you for cooperating, Felix. Give me one moment. I need to message a friend who is going to help us.” He cast Sending. “Caduceus. We will need you in a moment.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“I’ll go,” said Eadwulf. “Be right back.” With a muttered incantation, he had vanished.

“Where is he going?” asked Felix.

“To fetch a cleric friend of mine,” Caleb replied. “You look tired. Are you well?”

“Had a lot on my mind, I guess. Sleeping has been difficult.”

“I know the feeling.” Caleb looked to Astrid. “We should explain the situation, ja?”

“Why was Trent arrested?” asked Felix.

“A number of Volstrucker spoke with the Cobalt Soul about his training methods,” Astrid replied. “They documented it and took him to court. He’s in prison for life.”

Felix frowned. “I’m confused.”

Caleb should have expected Felix probably wouldn’t understand Trent’s behaviour as abuse; Caleb hadn’t either. “Felix, I would like you to listen to me.” He rolled up his sleeves so Felix could see the scars, which he was certain Felix shared. “A good teacher does not force his students to endure what we have.”

“We will face worse every day in our work,” Felix replied. “The pain… it makes us stronger.”

“And the residuum experiments? With no pain mitigation? I know people who have passed out in the process. Has that happened to you?”

“Once or twice,” Felix muttered, evidently still under the effects of the spell. “Puked more often.”

“Me too,” said Caleb, resisting the urge to scratch his itching scars. “It made me very ill most of the time. Astrid and Eadwulf had to force me to eat.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why are you asking me these questions?”

Astrid was gazing into the flames. “Felix, how old were you when Trent first hurt you?”

“Sixteen.”

Astrid managed to look at Caleb, just for a moment. “The same for him.” Astrid was a year older so it made sense to invoke Caleb instead, and maybe it was easier for her to project these things onto him.

Wulf popped back into the office, with the very welcome form of Caduceus beside him. Felix jumped, but Caleb had told him what was happening, and that seemed to be enough to stop him from bolting.

“Hallo, Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Can you give us just one more moment?” He turned back to Felix. “I’m going to have my friend Caduceus take a look at you and make sure you are well, but I would like to ask you a question first.”

“Fine.”

“What has Trent ordered you to do?”

Felix dropped his gaze to his lap. “My mother and father are plotting to betray the Empire. I have been asked to stop them.”

“That must have been weeks ago,” said Caleb. “What’s the matter?”

Felix scowled, and tried several times to supply an answer, as he was required to be honest while under the effects of Caleb’s specifically-worded spell. “I don’t know. They are not the people I thought they were. They are traitors. But. It’s not… I don’t know what to do. I’ve been waiting for Trent to give me more information, but I haven’t heard anything. I guess I was trying to figure out if there was a way I could convince them to…” He shook his head. “No. There is no mercy for traitors to the Empire.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Caleb. “It must be very difficult. May Caduceus take a look at you? You have clearly been under a great deal of stress.”

Felix had probably never seen a firbolg before, and he eyed Caduceus with trepidation. “What is he going to do?”

“It’s all right,” said Astrid. “He is a healer. The three of us have spent time in his family’s garden.”

“I… suppose…”

Caduceus approached slowly. “This will be quick, I promise. Just a healing spell to make you feel a bit better.” He already had the diamond dust for Greater Restoration in his palm. He touched Felix’s shoulder. It took a second for the spell to sink in, during which Caleb couldn’t breathe.

Then Felix slid to the floor, head in his hands. Astrid knelt beside him, whispering too quietly for Caleb to hear.

“One down,” Caduceus said softly, smiling at Caleb. “One to go.”

Caleb couldn’t speak. He watched Felix curl up on the floor, muttering to Astrid. She looked up at him, beckoned him over. Caleb knelt by her side.

“I don’t understand,” Felix said. “Why? Why? I don’t…” He shoved his fist against his mouth and screamed into it, eyes squeezed shut. “Why would he do this?”

There were a lot of things Caleb could say; he was not convinced any of them were right. But he had to say something. “He’s done this to all of us. Every Volstrucker went through this to graduate.”

“He does it for a few reasons,” Astrid said, quiet but somewhat detached. “It eliminates any family connections, leaving us reliant on Trent. And then, we’ve done the worst thing we thought we could do. Anything Trent has us do after that means very little. And those who break…” She looked at Caleb. “They are held up as an example of failure that we are measured against. We all know Bren’s name for a reason. First, as an example of failure, of weakness. Later, an example of endurance, of admirable but problematic stubbornness. A cautionary tale nonetheless.”

Felix looked to Caleb as well. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?”

Caleb wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know what Felix would tolerate, and there was a pressing matter. “First things first, we need to find Nicolaus.”

Felix drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them. “I don’t know where he is. We argued and then we went our separate ways.”

“What did you argue about?”

“I wanted to come here and find Trent. Ask about the order. See if there was anything we could… I don’t know.”

“And what did he want?”

“Nico doesn’t know what he wants. He was always more scared of Trent than I am.”

“Okay, we have ways to track him down. Caduceus, can you scry today?”

“I can,” Caduceus said slowly. “Might I also recommend, if Mr Felix knows the spell, that he should try Sending to him.”

“I don’t know that spell,” Felix said thickly. Caleb would just make out the side of his face, to see it was screwed up as if in pain.

“I can teach you,” said Caleb, “but I suspect it will take more time than we have right now.” Sending was an Evocation spell, so it would probably only take Felix three hours instead of six to copy it into his spellbook and practice it until he could do it, but that was still too long.

Caduceus sat cross-legged on the floor. “Do you have anything of his? Or a likeness?”

Wulf handed him a sketch. “Does this help?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Caduceus closed his eyes and began the ritual.

“I can try messaging Nico,” Astrid said, gripping her copper wire. “Nicolaus. It’s Astrid. I must meet with you in Trent’s office. It’s an urgent matter.” She waited, scowled. “Nothing.”

Caleb refused to panic, no matter how bad that sounded. “Okay. Good to know.”

Felix lifted his head. “What if we’re too late?”

“We don’t know that yet,” said Caleb. “Whatever happens, we will deal with it.”

Felix frowned at the floor. “What happens to me now?”

“We can take you home to your parents once we’ve got an idea of Nico’s situation,” said Caleb. “Unless you need more time.”

“Just a bit. I think. But I’d like to see them. Not today.”

“There is plenty of dormitory space for however long you need,” said Astrid. “Bren will visit you regularly once you are with your parents, to check in.” Felix nodded. That had not been discussed, but it was something that Caleb would want to do, so he let it slide.

The ten minutes it took for Caduceus to complete the spell were some of the longest of Caleb’s life. But then Caduceus’s eyes went white, and it seemed to be working.

Caduceus began to narrate what I saw. “I see your boy. He’s in a field. The clouds are pretty dark. It’s hard to see much. I think I see some buildings ahead of him. I’ll follow him for a bit.”

There was a sick feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach. “We should be ready, just in case.”

Astrid’s fingers weaved around the wire. “Expositor, are you close by? We may need your assistance. Come to my office on the--ugh, just ask for directions.” She listened. “Expositor Lionett is outside the Academy. She will be here soon.”

Caduceus spoke again. “He is approaching the village. Not many people in the streets. Probably the incoming storm. He looks like he has a goal.”

“What can you see of the buildings?” asked Caleb. “Any signs?”

“The signs are Zemnian,” said Caduceus. “The buildings look like farmhouses, mostly. I think I saw an orchard.”

“Blumenthal is a farming town,” Caleb muttered. “Fuck.”

Beauregard burst through the door, gasping for breath. “I’m here!” She doubled over, hands on her knees, as she sucked in air.

“Get ready to move,” said Wulf, stony-faced. “It looks bad.”

“Shit.” She gulped in another breath. “Okay.”

Caleb felt a little better now that she was here, but he was wound too tight to process it. “Caduceus. Is there anything else?”

“He’s picking up speed. Turned a corner. Looking at a house in the distance, I think.”

Caleb did not let himself feel anything. He turned to Felix. “Felix, do you know where Nico’s parents live?”

“On the northeastern edge of town.” Felix’s voice was as tense as Caleb. “Look for the cabbages.”

“Danke.” He squeezed Felix’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. “We need to go.”

Caduceus was still in the vision. “Go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Felix. If I see anything I think is useful, I will Send. But it will break the scry.”

Caleb gathered Astrid, Wulf and Beauregard around him and cast teleport, aiming for the northeastern end of Blumenthal. He knew it well, once.

Caleb’s scars itched as he headed home from the Academy, mind buzzing uncomfortably. His hands were somehow steady as he messaged Beauregard.

“Beauregard. I had an unsettling conversation with Astrid and Wulf. Two Volstrucker students are missing. Felix and Nicolaus. Evocation wizards. May have self-orphan orders.” He realised belatedly that he had forgotten to ask Astrid for a description. Also, he hoped Beauregard never told anyone he had used the term self-orphan. He’d made himself a little queasy in his haste to keep to the word limit.

“I’ll make sure the Soul keeps an eye out. And I’ll get a description from Astrid in the morning. Get over here. Dinner’s ready.”

Beau and Yasha kept the conversation flowing over dinner, absolving Caleb of that social responsibility. He felt useless, sitting here while there were two boys out there somewhere, who were possibly in the process of deciding whether or not to kill their parents based on an implanted memory of treason. If they weren’t found in time, Caleb wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself.

The two women hugged him goodnight after dinner, and he shook so hard he feared he would collapse. Yasha held onto him a little longer than she had probably planned, while Beauregard stepped back to take a look at him.

“Caleb.” She had that tone, the one what told him he looked like shit but she was trying not to freak him out. “Maybe you should take a spare room on this side tonight.”

“I’m all right, Beauregard.” He knew he sounded ridiculous. “Hear me out. Please.” Beauregard tilted her head in a silent challenge. “I need to think. I need to process this. I need to come up with plans for every possible outcome. And I may need to make some calls.”

“Do you want to talk it out?”

“I would like to be alone. Just for tonight. We will talk tomorrow.”

Beauregard looked for a moment like she was going to argue, and then she quite intentionally relaxed her shoulders. “Okay. You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?”

“Ja, of course.”

Yasha gave him one last squeeze. “We mean it. Anything.”

“I know. Danke.”

Caleb escaped to his bedroom. He forced himself to slow down a bit, take deep breaths, and get dressed for bed. He settled under the covers, slowly circling his palm over the quilt and feeling the different animal patterns. He’d already committed them to memory. But, on a night like this, it helped to know that what he thought was reality before was still reality now.

What a fucking mess. Before he could get too deep into his head, he messaged Caduceus.

“Hallo, Caduceus. Two of Trent’s students are missing. We suspect memories may have been modified. If we locate them, are you available to help us?”

There was a short pause; Caduceus was probably weighing his response, aware that he would not be able to track the wordcount once he began to speak. “Of course. Let me know when I’m needed. If you could spare a teleport, that would be great.”

Caleb cast the spell again. “I will give you a head’s up when I need you and then grab you from the Grove. Danke. Today has been… a lot.”

“Get some rest, Caleb. I left some sleepy tea in your kitchen if you need it. I’ll be here when you need me.”

That was one problem handled. Caleb burned through another Sending.

“Astrid, Caduceus is on call to correct any memory modification. Beauregard will be in touch with you tomorrow to get their descriptions.”

“Danke. I will ensure the Cobalt Soul is adequately informed. Now go to bed.”

Caleb let him feel her unspoken concern for him, just for a moment. Maybe one day they could be friends again. He curled up beneath the covers and closed his eyes. He would have to ensure he packed Counterspell and Sending every day. Perhaps Hold Person would also be useful. Control Flames would also not go amiss, just in case. And Expeditious Retreat or Fly would be useful in case time was of the essence at any point. Suggestion could be useful if they had the chance to talk. Running through spells he should prepare made him feel a bit better about how little control he had over this.

He was still losing his mind a little bit.

“Caleb,” came Essek’s voice, pumping air into Caleb's lungs. “Apologies. I meant to message earlier. I’m safe. Saved a child’s pet cat from a tree. He hugged me. Strange. How was your day?”

“Intense.” Caleb wasn’t sure how much to say, and he would definitely have to burn more spells to go into any detail. “Astrid promised to find a venue for the ex-Volstrucker support group. Two boys are unaccounted for. We are concerned. They are… almost graduates.”

Before Caleb could decide whether to say more, Essek Sent again. “Are you all right? Can I help with anything?”

“Not right now. We will… see how this pans out. They’re from Blumenthal, and I didn’t hear anything when I was there. May have time.” Caleb burnt another of his own spells before Essek did. “I have Caduceus on standby and Beauregard will talk to the Soul tomorrow. We may have a chance. I hope.”

“I will come in a heartbeat if you need me. Keep me updated. Get some rest if you can. Goodnight. You are in my thoughts.”

It helped, just a bit. Caleb still tossed and turned for a while, unable to turn his brain off. But things were… maybe they were manageable. He had half a mind to take himself to Blumenthal tomorrow, find out where the boys’ parents lived and get them somewhere safe. Or maybe he could… no, they would not handle a stranger showing up at their door in the dead of the night very well.

****

Astrid came to the house the following morning, with sketches for Beauregard to distribute to the Cobalt Soul. It was odd to sit on the couch with her. Like friends would.

“Eadwulf is in the city with the Volstrucker we could mobilise,” she said. “If either of them come to Rexxentrum, between us and the monks, we will find them. I spoke to my guard contact; the families are okay.”

“Have we considered evacuating them?” asked Caleb. The thought had kept him up for a long time last night. Maybe it was the best option.

There was a flicker of discomfort across Astrid’s face for the barest of seconds. “I don’t trust the Crownsguard to handle a delicate mission like that. It would be up to us. Or perhaps the Soul, but I’m already stretching our relationship with them.”

“Yudala Fon knows the stakes,” said Caleb. “If you are not comfortable visiting Blumenthal yourself…”

“Are you?”

“I have been once. I can bear it again to save half a dozen lives.”

They both knew it wasn’t just the parents whose lives were in danger. If Felix and Nicolaus followed through on this and were not stopped…

Well, Caleb had lost eleven years, and then another six running and running and running. Astrid and Wulf had lost their freedom as well. And Caleb could not even begin to comprehend the special kind of pain it would bring these boys if they murdered their parents only to discover Trent had been in prison for weeks, his crimes exposed, his orders no longer in effect. Caleb wasn’t sure he could have survived that.

Astrid must have understood what Caleb was feeling, because she spoke gently. “It is an option. We could also leave them in place under guard to draw the boys out.”

“I would rather not.” Caleb could already conjure a dozen scenarios in which that could go horribly wrong. “Astrid, we cannot fuck this up. You and I both know these boys could overpower a Crownsguard, or sneak past a security detail. No risks. We have to move the families.”

Astrid opened her mouth to respond, and then paused, eyes drifting upwards in concentration. “Thanks, Wulf. Do not engage. Herd him towards us if you can. We will be there shortly.” She focused back on Caleb. “Felix is in the city. Eadwulf is trailing him. They are approaching from the south.” She hopped to her feet, and helped Caleb up. “Shall we?”

As they raced out the door, Caleb messaged Beauregard. “Felix has been spotted. Approaching The Tangles from the south. Wulf is trailing. We are headed to intercept. Could use a hand.”

“I’m in the Court of Colours, southwest of your position. I’ll link up with Eadwulf. Will get the monks to surround. We got this.”

“Beauregard is southwest of us,” Caleb told Astrid. “She’ll try to find Wulf and have the monks form a perimeter.”

“We only have one shot with Felix,” Astrid muttered. “This could make or break everything. No fuckups?”

“No fuckups.”

They ran.

As they drew closer to the suspected middle point, Caleb shot a quick message to Wulf. “We are close to the midpoint. Turning invisible now.” He grabbed Astrid’s hand, hiding them both from view.

Wulf’s response was a whisper. “Slowing down. I think he knows I’m here, but hasn’t done anything yet.”

Caleb was grateful most seventeen-year-old wizards had not yet figured out teleportation. He and Astrid also slowed, still hand-in-hand.

“We try to talk to him before we do anything aggressive,” Astrid whispered. “Get us close.”

“Worst case scenario, Beauregard stuns him and Wulf carries him somewhere we can have a secure conversation. I can try casting Suggestion if necessary, before we do anything to freak him out.”

They turned a corner and Caleb spotted the boy in a crowd of people carrying baskets and cloths and the like, probably headed to market. Felix was slim and blonde, and looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. His shoulders were tight. The pair stayed ahead of him. Caleb spotted the instant Felix started getting a little too nervous, his eyes darting backwards for the barest of moments, towards Eadwulf, buried even as he was in the crowd.

Caleb tugged Astrid’s hand towards an alley before letting go and stepping into it, hoping he had read this right. Felix also turned into the alley, putting his back to the wall of a nearby inn, raising a hand to prepare a spell. Caleb recognised the somatic components of Scorching Ray. He prepared to counter it.

As soon as Wulf emerged, Felix tried to release the spell, and Caleb counterspelled, losing his invisibility.

Felix shook out his hands, still focused on Wulf. “Why are you following me, Eadwulf?”

Wulf raised an eyebrow. “Did you consider asking that before trying to set me on fire?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, and Caleb wondered if Trent had tried to drive a wedge between the Volstruck, and Astrid and Wulf.

Astrid dropped her invisibility, appearing next to Wulf. “Felix, what’s the matter? Are you well?”

Her emergence did not calm Felix in the slightest. “Am I--” He scoffed. “Are you kidding?”

“We have been looking for you for weeks,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I have a mission to complete.”

Caleb considered recasting his invisibility, but the spell required verbal and somatic components. He just had to hold still and hope Astrid and Wulf commanded Felix’s attention until Caleb figured out what to do.

“Felix, you have been gone from the city for a long time,” said Astrid, and Caleb slowly reached for his component pouch. “Things have changed. Your mission, whatever it is, may no longer be viable.”

“We need to take you back to the Candles,” said Wulf.

Caleb felt his snake’s tongue and a piece of honeycomb, and began to slowly extract them from his pouch.

Felix didn’t move. “Why?”

Astrid glanced at Wulf, before evidently deciding on a course of action. “Trent has been arrested. We are trying to gather the Volstrucker so we can explain the charges against him.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Felix, what did he ask you to do?”

“It’s confidential.”

Caleb had the materials in his hand, so he rubbed the honeycomb against his lip, and spoke. “Felix, we are here to help you, but we need you to help us. Could we please have an honest conversation with each other?”

There was a moment where Caleb feared Felix would resist the Suggestion spell, and that Beauregard would have to swoop in and stun him. Felix turned to him, head cocked.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You are Bren, right? Trent talks about you a lot.” He glanced at Astrid and Wulf. “He seemed worried the three of you were scheming behind his back.”

“Let’s head to his old office, ja? We have a lot to talk about. We will answer your questions, if you answer ours.”

“All right. Lead on.”

Caleb could not fucking believe that had worked. Judging from Astrid and Eadwulf’s brief but clearly shocked glances in his direction, they couldn’t believe it either.

****

Caleb couldn’t risk sending a message to Beauregard explaining what had happened, but she seemed to get the sense she shouldn’t reveal herself. Caleb led Felix through the city to the Academy, and up to Astrid’s office. They sat him in front of the fireplace.

Caleb crouched in front of him while Astrid stood by the fire, and Wulf leaned by the door. “Thank you for cooperating, Felix. Give me one moment. I need to message a friend who is going to help us.” He cast Sending. “Caduceus. We will need you in a moment.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“I’ll go,” said Eadwulf. “Be right back.” With a muttered incantation, he had vanished.

“Where is he going?” asked Felix.

“To fetch a cleric friend of mine,” Caleb replied. “You look tired. Are you well?”

“Had a lot on my mind, I guess. Sleeping has been difficult.”

“I know the feeling.” Caleb looked to Astrid. “We should explain the situation, ja?”

“Why was Trent arrested?” asked Felix.

“A number of Volstrucker spoke with the Cobalt Soul about his training methods,” Astrid replied. “They documented it and took him to court. He’s in prison for life.”

Felix frowned. “I’m confused.”

Caleb should have expected Felix probably wouldn’t understand Trent’s behaviour as abuse; Caleb hadn’t either. “Felix, I would like you to listen to me.” He rolled up his sleeves so Felix could see the scars, which he was certain Felix shared. “A good teacher does not force his students to endure what we have.”

“We will face worse every day in our work,” Felix replied. “The pain… it makes us stronger.”

“And the residuum experiments? With no pain mitigation? I know people who have passed out in the process. Has that happened to you?”

“Once or twice,” Felix muttered, evidently still under the effects of the spell. “Puked more often.”

“Me too,” said Caleb, resisting the urge to scratch his itching scars. “It made me very ill most of the time. Astrid and Eadwulf had to force me to eat.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why are you asking me these questions?”

Astrid was gazing into the flames. “Felix, how old were you when Trent first hurt you?”

“Sixteen.”

Astrid managed to look at Caleb, just for a moment. “The same for him.” Astrid was a year older so it made sense to invoke Caleb instead, and maybe it was easier for her to project these things onto him.

Wulf popped back into the office, with the very welcome form of Caduceus beside him. Felix jumped, but Caleb had told him what was happening, and that seemed to be enough to stop him from bolting.

“Hallo, Caduceus,” said Caleb. “Can you give us just one more moment?” He turned back to Felix. “I’m going to have my friend Caduceus take a look at you and make sure you are well, but I would like to ask you a question first.”

“Fine.”

“What has Trent ordered you to do?”

Felix dropped his gaze to his lap. “My mother and father are plotting to betray the Empire. I have been asked to stop them.”

“That must have been weeks ago,” said Caleb. “What’s the matter?”

Felix scowled, and tried several times to supply an answer, as he was required to be honest while under the effects of Caleb’s specifically-worded spell. “I don’t know. They are not the people I thought they were. They are traitors. But. It’s not… I don’t know what to do. I’ve been waiting for Trent to give me more information, but I haven’t heard anything. I guess I was trying to figure out if there was a way I could convince them to…” He shook his head. “No. There is no mercy for traitors to the Empire.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Caleb. “It must be very difficult. May Caduceus take a look at you? You have clearly been under a great deal of stress.”

Felix had probably never seen a firbolg before, and he eyed Caduceus with trepidation. “What is he going to do?”

“It’s all right,” said Astrid. “He is a healer. The three of us have spent time in his family’s garden.”

“I… suppose…”

Caduceus approached slowly. “This will be quick, I promise. Just a healing spell to make you feel a bit better.” He already had the diamond dust for Greater Restoration in his palm. He touched Felix’s shoulder. It took a second for the spell to sink in, during which Caleb couldn’t breathe.

Then Felix slid to the floor, head in his hands. Astrid knelt beside him, whispering too quietly for Caleb to hear.

“One down,” Caduceus said softly, smiling at Caleb. “One to go.”

Caleb couldn’t speak. He watched Felix curl up on the floor, muttering to Astrid. She looked up at him, beckoned him over. Caleb knelt by her side.

“I don’t understand,” Felix said. “Why? Why? I don’t…” He shoved his fist against his mouth and screamed into it, eyes squeezed shut. “Why would he do this?”

There were a lot of things Caleb could say; he was not convinced any of them were right. But he had to say something. “He’s done this to all of us. Every Volstrucker went through this to graduate.”

“He does it for a few reasons,” Astrid said, quiet but somewhat detached. “It eliminates any family connections, leaving us reliant on Trent. And then, we’ve done the worst thing we thought we could do. Anything Trent has us do after that means very little. And those who break…” She looked at Caleb. “They are held up as an example of failure that we are measured against. We all know Bren’s name for a reason. First, as an example of failure, of weakness. Later, an example of endurance, of admirable but problematic stubbornness. A cautionary tale nonetheless.”

Felix looked to Caleb as well. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?”

Caleb wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know what Felix would tolerate, and there was a pressing matter. “First things first, we need to find Nicolaus.”

Felix drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them. “I don’t know where he is. We argued and then we went our separate ways.”

“What did you argue about?”

“I wanted to come here and find Trent. Ask about the order. See if there was anything we could… I don’t know.”

“And what did he want?”

“Nico doesn’t know what he wants. He was always more scared of Trent than I am.”

“Okay, we have ways to track him down. Caduceus, can you scry today?”

“I can,” Caduceus said slowly. “Might I also recommend, if Mr Felix knows the spell, that he should try Sending to him.”

“I don’t know that spell,” Felix said thickly. Caleb would just make out the side of his face, to see it was screwed up as if in pain.

“I can teach you,” said Caleb, “but I suspect it will take more time than we have right now.” Sending was an Evocation spell, so it would probably only take Felix three hours instead of six to copy it into his spellbook and practice it until he could do it, but that was still too long.

Caduceus sat cross-legged on the floor. “Do you have anything of his? Or a likeness?”

Wulf handed him a sketch. “Does this help?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Caduceus closed his eyes and began the ritual.

“I can try messaging Nico,” Astrid said, gripping her copper wire. “Nicolaus. It’s Astrid. I must meet with you in Trent’s office. It’s an urgent matter.” She waited, scowled. “Nothing.”

Caleb refused to panic, no matter how bad that sounded. “Okay. Good to know.”

Felix lifted his head. “What if we’re too late?”

“We don’t know that yet,” said Caleb. “Whatever happens, we will deal with it.”

Felix frowned at the floor. “What happens to me now?”

“We can take you home to your parents once we’ve got an idea of Nico’s situation,” said Caleb. “Unless you need more time.”

“Just a bit. I think. But I’d like to see them. Not today.”

“There is plenty of dormitory space for however long you need,” said Astrid. “Bren will visit you regularly once you are with your parents, to check in.” Felix nodded. That had not been discussed, but it was something that Caleb would want to do, so he let it slide.

The ten minutes it took for Caduceus to complete the spell were some of the longest of Caleb’s life. But then Caduceus’s eyes went white, and it seemed to be working.

Caduceus began to narrate what I saw. “I see your boy. He’s in a field. The clouds are pretty dark. It’s hard to see much. I think I see some buildings ahead of him. I’ll follow him for a bit.”

There was a sick feeling in the pit of Caleb’s stomach. “We should be ready, just in case.”

Astrid’s fingers weaved around the wire. “Expositor, are you close by? We may need your assistance. Come to my office on the--ugh, just ask for directions.” She listened. “Expositor Lionett is outside the Academy. She will be here soon.”

Caduceus spoke again. “He is approaching the village. Not many people in the streets. Probably the incoming storm. He looks like he has a goal.”

“What can you see of the buildings?” asked Caleb. “Any signs?”

“The signs are Zemnian,” said Caduceus. “The buildings look like farmhouses, mostly. I think I saw an orchard.”

“Blumenthal is a farming town,” Caleb muttered. “Fuck.”

Beauregard burst through the door, gasping for breath. “I’m here!” She doubled over, hands on her knees, as she sucked in air.

“Get ready to move,” said Wulf, stony-faced. “It looks bad.”

“Shit.” She gulped in another breath. “Okay.”

Caleb felt a little better now that she was here, but he was wound too tight to process it. “Caduceus. Is there anything else?”

“He’s picking up speed. Turned a corner. Looking at a house in the distance, I think.”

Caleb did not let himself feel anything. He turned to Felix. “Felix, do you know where Nico’s parents live?”

“On the northeastern edge of town.” Felix’s voice was as tense as Caleb. “Look for the cabbages.”

“Danke.” He squeezed Felix’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. “We need to go.”

Caduceus was still in the vision. “Go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Felix. If I see anything I think is useful, I will Send. But it will break the scry.”

Caleb gathered Astrid, Wulf and Beauregard around him and cast teleport, aiming for the northeastern end of Blumenthal. He knew it well, once.

[hit-me-with-a-ladle]

Ch.10 Creepypasta x Fem! Reader

Before even realising, the week had ended once more, perpetuating the endless cycle experienced day after day. Though not as severe as the previous, it was still very tiring in its own way. As the first day passed, Ben wanted to perceive her potential, making her brew something after every lesson and making sure the notes taken were comprehensive and correct. But what he failed to inform her was that the slightest miscalculation could end up in an explosion. The combining of two opposing substances ended up in a chain reaction that gave the girl burns and potential scars, their severity somewhat dulled by the elixir Ben would create after, but still very painful.

That week was strange, as Ben was inept at any social interaction. Struggling with reading the room and understanding others thoughts and feelings. Though he hated silence and many-a-time attempted to end it with a random ramble about a certain topic that would last hours at a time, tiering the poor girl forced to listen. His tendency for not understanding physical boundaries had begun to become a problem too, invading the girl's personal space at very unwanted times and always flashing that creepy smile whenever he saw her, making her tense up.

Though the perpetual cycle had begun to have a toll on her. Her body was on autopilot most of the day. Walking around and doing the same things as a robot. And the last day of the week hadn't been any different. She'd fallen asleep the previous night at exactly ten pm after launch and woke up the morning at around five-fifty six am, before her alarm. Getting up taking a shower, bandaging her wounds, getting dressed, and heading towards the stairs for a nutritious breakfast before she'd have to meet the new person sent there to train her. Toby had presumed.

Right as she was about to take her first step down the narrow wooden staircase she stopped in her tracks, looking back towards her bedroom door. Stepping back she walked towards it and walked in, looking around quickly before spotting the thing she was looking for. The necklace Ben gave her, she took it off the previous night and forgot to put it on. Quickly snatching it and clasping it around her neck and putting it under her jumpsuit she hurriedly ran downstairs, not wanting to be off schedule. She wasn't sure why she'd gone back to grab it, but something was telling her that it was special.

Looking at the clock she sighed, twenty minutes left before her training starts. Her thoughts were in shambles as she imagined what the new man was going to be like. A sadistic narcissist like Jack? An aggressive control freak like Masky? Or maybe, a blabbering creep like Ben? She wasn't ready to find out. But it was inevitable, no matter how much she wished she could leave, to get an end to this madness. But she didn't have to wonder for long as she heard light footsteps on the hard floor approaching her. Usually, she wouldn't have noticed something as minute as that but recently her senses have heightened significantly with the constant rushes of adrenaline her body had been going through to stay alive.

Gazing in its direction she finally saw the man, he looked to be around twenties years of age. He was of average height, around five-foot-seven or about hundred-and-seventy-three meters, a bit bigger than Ben. His mouth, covered with a black striped mask and a pair of orange-tinted goggles over his eyes. Bushy dark brown hair peeking out from the blue hood of his stained zip-up. The only feature visible was his pale almost grey skin that seemed cold as ice. Below the waist, he had two old hatchets harnessed on either side of his long baggy jeans, with his gloved hands firmly gripping both whiles staring at the girl. As he stood he would occasionally jerk or twitch to the side without warning. She gazed at him, confused by the sudden motions of his body.

Suddenly the man coughed, grabbing her attention and snapping her out of the daze that she was in. Shaking her head and apologizing immediately. He approached, now right in front of her.

" He-llo. I'm To-toby."

He stuttered as he stretched out his right hand at her. Swiftly grabbing his hand to shake it. The leather that collided with her skin was worn out and patchy.

" Hi." She retorted, trying to pull her hand away but he would let do. She could feel his flesh twitch underneath his thick glove. " So when are we going to begin training?"

She awkwardly addressed trying to soften the ever-growing tension. The man only nodded his head and softly huffed, finally letting go.

Glancing behind her shoulder, staring at the back door with a blank stare he pushed her aside and walked towards it. She was perplexed by him, not expecting such an act as a frown formed on her face. 'Who does he think he is? He didn't even answer my question. Jerk.' She thought, her eyebrows scrunching in irritation while going back to making herself breakfast.

"I'll wait for you to fin-finish outside. Be quic-k."

He said quietly as he stepped outside.

Sighing dramatically she began to eat, starting at the clock on the wall, counting down the seconds with dread. Eating had become a choir, her mouth always feeling dry. The food itself was bland too, devoid of odour and taste made the texture unbearable at times. But she didn't have much of a choice. It sometimes felt like eating sandpaper but she couldn't complain as it would only stir up a problem. Most of the food was meant to strengthen her body and make her more durable. Forcing down the last bite she got up but the dishes in the sink and went towards the back door with a black expression on her face.

Opening it up it made a loud creak, annoying the girl as she slammed it behind her, searching for the googled man. She assumed that he was in the armoured area of the forest. Remembering passing it while doing Maskys test, grumbling at the memory. Picking up her speed and running towards it she got there in about ten minutes. Abruptly stopping when she saw the back of his head, a sense of accomplishment washing over her when she realised that her judgment was right. As she was about to inform him of her arrival he swiftly turned around. His orange stained goggles reflect the sun's rays making them shine.

" Si-since you arrived, w-we should begin." He softly said as he reached for his hatchet and pointed to the middle of the small clearing. It was perfect for close-range combat, especially if what they were using were close-range weapons. It was specifically designed for the people training in them to be wary of their surroundings and to focus their movements. Small bumps and rocks were scattered to make it more of a challenge. Battered practise dummies were also present on the sides, some had throwing stars and objects logged on their body. A small shed was tucked in between two trees, made to store some of the weapons they practise with.

As he stood in the middle Toby walked up to the shed, shoving his hand in his pocket searching for something, suddenly pulling out a set of rusty keys and looking for the one that matched the shed's lock. Going inside he searched for something, the girl wasn't sure what as she wasn't able to even see him. After a minute, he finally walked out holding something in his hand. Approaching her he extended his gloved hand letting her see it, a small hunting knife. The blade sharpened to perfection as the thick mettle it was made out of shine in the light, encased in a large worn wooden handle, finger-like dents could be seen from previous use.

Taking it in her hands it fits almost perfectly, holding firmly she studied the mettle further. Just like Maskys pocket watch, there was a crossed-out circle on it; her face was now showed intrigue by the particular design.

" The b-blade you're hol-ding in your hand is o-one of the most impor-tant things you need to sur-survive. Not only is it used fo-for self-defence it's also used for ever-everyday tasks. For ex-example, cutting down vines and or carving th-ings into wooden sur-surfaces."

As he spoke he would occasionally twitch and jerk but he didn't seem distracted by it, already used to the constant random unwanted motions his body made.

The girl nodded her head, thoroughly listening to his every word said, she'd come to terms that if she expected to escape she had to use everything that they thought her to good use. Toby had started to show her different techniques of cutting and use of the knife, explaining the proper stance and movements. But the girl seemed to struggle, shuffling her feet trying to get the stance right. Toby rolled his eyes and went behind her, starting to fix her mistakes and instructing her while doing so. The girl could faintly feel his uneven breaths on her neck. He was noticeably rough with the way he grabbed her hands, fixing them in place. When he was satisfied he let go and went to the side to watch her work.

The silver blade shined as the light hit its clear surface, the girl quickly jabbing and slashing the tree she was told to work on, creating noticeable scratches as she did. At first, her movements were quite slow and sloppy, not being able to get the hang of the small weapon, but eventually, she got the hang of it, quickly gliding around the tree with pretty much no effort and slashing it with remarkable precision. Toby watched her every step, pleased by her sudden improvement.

"I th-think that should b-be enough." He said loudly, disturbing the girl from her trance. Making her quickly straighten up and look at him.

" I-i think yo-you learned the bas-basic, now le-lets see how you will do it hand-to-hand."

The girl nodded, approaching him without saying a word, blade in hand ready to use. Toby also didn't bother to say a word, only pulling out one of his hatchets and getting into a fighting stance, she quickly followed. Neither of them tried to attack at first, only scanning their opponent, anticipating their every move. A cold sweat started to form on the girl's back as panic slowly arose in her mind, the tension was unbearable, and she feared that it showed on her face, but even still she had to muster up the courage and finally strike first.

She leapt at the googled boy, attempting to slash him with her blade but he avoided it in the nick of time. He was quick to react as he soon tried to sweep her off her feet but she blocked his blow and sprang a bit away creating a small distance. He was the one to attack next, facking a strike with his hatchet to her head, quickly using his other hand to punch her in the jaw, making her stumble and slip. Going to her lever and attempting to strike her again, she was quick to block, using all the possible strength she had in her arms to protect herself. She managed to somehow push him off as she quickly tried to get up, but made one fatal mistake by averting her gaze from his, giving him the Milly-second of a chance to slash her upper thigh.

Screaming in agony she fell to her knees, quickly feeling her weight turned on her back and crashed on the ground, the impact causing the necklace around her neck to come out from the jumpsuit, catching Toby's attention. The bottle shined in the light and wasn't hard to spot, he approached her aching for, carefully kneeling to her lever. Her face was in a mix of emotions, ready to defend herself again at any moment, but as he extended his gloved hands what she didn't expect was for him to reach for the necklace.

He held the small thing in his hands, twisting it around to get a better look at what was contained inside of it.

"A-a protection ch-charm." He murmured, but the girl still managed to somewhat hear it.

Her face showed a mixture of confusion and distress. Moments ago he was trying to slice her throat and how she was softly gripping her necklace, not saying another word.

They stayed in that position for a few minutes, the tension in the air occasionally being broken by the googled man ticks.

" Did Ben gi-give you this?" He asked sternly, twisting the tiny bottle between his thumb and pointer finger as he held it in front of her face.

" Yeah" She only said, averting from his gaze. He scoffed harshly letting go of it and firmly standing up, taking a few steps away from her.

Shooting pain ran up her leg to her back as she tried to stand, quickly holding the wound on the back of her thigh, adding as much pressure as she could so the blood would stop pouring out. Toby did say a word only looking in her direction. The girl's thoughts were racing, anger and fear swirling all in the bat of rage. She has enough of this, recollecting her strength slowly she took a long breath in, subtly looking in her peripherals to spot where Toby was standing. And the moment she felt the adrenaline kick in like all those times before she leapt.

The pain didn't concern her anymore; she only wanted him to feel the same she felt. Tackling his feet, he let out a low yelp as he fell on his lower back, she then quickly acted by pulling out the second hatched holstered to his person and putting it to his neck. Heavy jagged breaths escaped her chapped lips as she stared at him with a wide eyes gaze, sweat coming out of every pour.

Shaking uncontrollably while firmly holding the hatchet to his neck. She whispered, "I win."

[feverwritingandtextposts]

Break (Metal Bat x Reader)

Pairing: Metal Bat x Reader Summary: Your exams are coming up, so you decide to help Badd study. Badd has other plans though. 

Read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24584905

I was in the mood for metal bat fluff so this is just really pointless fluff ajddsjsa. Reader is a fellow classmate.

The morning light shines in through the room’s singular window, illuminating the room with the refreshing ardour that only good weather can bring. At this time of day, the public library was blissfully empty and quiet, a welcome respite from your usual hectic days. But the tiny study room you and Badd were sandwiched in was hardly soundproof, and even within its walls you can hear the cheers and wailing of kids running about their day outside.

Out of the corner of his eye, Badd watched the kids chase each other cheerfully, feeling more restless with each passing moment. He turned to you, fully engrossed in your practice sheet, and completely ignoring him. This was not how he expected his weekend to go.

Badd threw down his pen, impatient. 

“Let's take a break,” he grumbled, sending you a mildly pleading side eye. 

You didn't bother to look up at him. 

“Badd,” you reasoned, pen not stopping its avance on the page, “its only been 15 minutes.”

Badd groaned, leaning back on his chair, tottering precariously on its back legs. “It's been 25 fuckin minutes, babe c’mon.”

You turned to face him, raising an incredulous eyebrow. “Did you really keep track?”

“Yeah?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned away with a shake of your head, resuming your work. 

“(Y/N),” Badd whined leaning in close to you. “Its a Saturday. Why are we at a library on a Saturday? We could’ve just gone to the mall, or the movies, or-”

“We’re here,” you interrupt him, putting your pen down with a sigh, “because the end of the year exams are coming up and we need to study.” You cast him a meaningful glance. He especially needs to study. 

Badd pouts, lower lip jutting out petulantly. On such a stern face, it really shouldn't be as cute as Badd makes it. Damn him. 

“But we never get any time together. We should be spending our weekends having fun!” he pleads, casting you his best approximation of puppy dog eyes that you’re sure he learnt from Zenko. He leans in a bit closer for effect, eyebrows upturned and lower lip wobbling. You squirm, feeling your weak self restraint already crumbling. 

“Fineeeeee,” you sigh, resisting the urge to smile at Badd’s instant ecstatic grin. “On one condition.”

Badd’s smile disappeared. “What…?” he asks, hesitantly. 

“We finish this practice paper first, and then we can have the break.”

Badd eyed the worksheet in front of him warily. “And what are we gonna do for our break?”

You tilted your head at him, confused by the question. He was the one who brought up the break in the first place. “I dunno? Anything you want I guess.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say. Badd’s smile turns sly at your words, fixing you with a roguish lopsided grin that sparks butterflies in your stomach. “Anything I want?” he grins, voice dropping an octave lower suggestively. 

You snort, trying to ignore your own blushing cheeks and hoping he didn't notice (he did). “Just start your work Badd.”

“Yes ma’am,” Badd snickers, looking more refreshed than before after teasing you. 

You watch him scratch his pen on the paper, smiling to himself. You squirm in your seat, your embarrassed blush still etched on your face. Just what was Badd even planning to do during his ‘break’? His enthusiasm now is making you rethink your decisions. Not like you would mind doing… things. But here? In the library? The public library? He wouldn’t. Would he?

Even as Badd’s eyes remained trained on his paper, his smirk grew wider, as if he could sense your inner turmoil. Or maybe he could just hear you fidget. “Better start writing, Miss Honour Student,” Badd teased, turning his head a fraction to peer at you. “I’m gonna finish before you if ya keep staring.”

Your eyes narrowed at the challenge, despite your flush at being caught looking. “As if!” you snap, turning back to your worksheet, lips quirking at the sound of Badd’s responding laugh.

You managed a few more of your comprehension questions before your mind started to wander once more. It really wasn’t your fault that the thought of Badd’s hands on you was just so intoxicating…

Your steamy daydreams were cut off abruptly by Badd’s heavy hand descending on your shoulder. You freeze up under the sudden contact, shocked at your own lack of concentration. Badd leans in with a low hum, his hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, making you shudder. 

“What? You’re still not done?” he asks, sounding dejected as he peers at your work over your shoulder. Reaching over and involuntarily caging you in his arms, he flips over the page you’re working on. In spite of yourself, you feel your body lean back a little into his warmth. He grumbles behind you, seeing that you still have a page left to complete.

“Man, even I’M already done,” he groans, flopping back into his seat beside you. The sudden loss of contact makes you feel cold, but you keep your face straight. 

Not quite believing him, you hold out your hand for his paper. There’s no way he’s done. It hasn’t even been that long. 

You scanned through the paper quickly, blinking rapidly with each word you read. Beside you, Badd watches on seriously, head propped up on his clasped hands, elbows resting on his knees.

Its… True that he’d finished the paper… But it’d be a stretch to say that he’d finished it correctly. You sighed inwardly. Reaching, over for a pencil, you scratched out his errors quickly before tossing the worksheet back to him with a flourish.

“... Does it matter? I mean, its done.”

“Yes,” you sighed, levelling him with a look, “it matters. You’re just going to end up learning the wrong thing if you don’t correct your mistakes.”

Badd groaned, but turned back to his work obediently to do as you told him, pouting the entire time. You hid your amused smile behind your hand before turning back to your own work. Badd was doing his best, so you had to too! No more distractions!

Psyching yourself up, you dove back into your work with increased feror, blind to Badd peeking your way.

You were just finishing up your sentence when you felt your boyfriend’s hands snake onto your shoulders, gently rubbing your soft flesh through your shirt. You didn’t even realise he had gotten up to stand behind you.

“Uh,” you drawl, pausing your writing in confusion. “Badd, what are you doing?”

“Helpin’ ya,” Badd supplied cheerfully, not pausing his massage. At your lack of response he leans in closer, peering down at you with a smirk. “You were working so hard, thought I’d give you a hand.”

You looked up, meeting his burning dark eyes. “I don’t know how a massage is going to-” your breath hitched as Badd’s strong, firm fingers carefully worked out the tense knot in your shoulders. “You know what? Keep going.”

Badd snorted, warm hands continuing their ministrations. “Knew you’d like it.”

You hummed, picking up your pen and continuing with your work. Or so you would like to, but the feeling of Badd’s hands on you, and how his calloused fingers have started to creep onto the sensitive spots on your neck and collarbone, have wiped all thoughts of studying from your mind.

“Badd…” you mumbled, blush rising under his intense stare. “I think that’s enough now. I can’t concentrate.”

“Hm?” Badd grunted, fingers now thumbing confidently over your collarbone, dipping past the neckline of your shirt. “Why’s that?” he asks innocently, although the amused smirk pulling at his lips says otherwise.

You narrowed your eyes. This asshole knew exactly what he was doing to you.

At your pointed look Badd chuckles, his voice low and gravelly enough to spark a rush of heat through your body. “Well,” he drawls, leaning in, “if you can’t concentrate now, maybe you need a break?”

Groaning in defeat, you reach up, catching his large hands in your own. Badd smiles excitedly, sensing his win in sight. 

“Fine,” you chuckle, “let's take that break.”

Badd’s smile breaks into an ear splitting grin. Reaching forward to envelop you in a tight hug, he lets out a victorious whoop, making you laugh at his volume. 

“Shh!” you insist, patting his bicep, “the librarian will hear you!”

Badd laughs, unbothered, turning his face to nuzzle your cheek. “Fuck them, let em hear.”

You rolled your eyes. “And if they chase us out?”

“Well damn,” Badd says, eyes dancing with mischief, “guess we can’t study for a while then.”

“Badd.”

He laughs again, louder than before, and its so infectious you can’t help but join in. The two of you stay that way for a while, Badd leaning over you, wrapping you comfortably in his arms, just enjoying each other’s presence.

“Alright,” Badd starts, voice a low grumble in your ear. “Let’s get that break started eh?”

You flush at the implications of his words, turning to gaze at him through your eyelashes. Releasing you, Badd takes a step back to his seat, and you lean forward to throw yourself back into his arms only to pause awkwardly, arms extended, when you realise that he grabbed his backpack.

“Uh, Badd?” you ask gently, wholly confused. “What are you doing?”

Badd raised an eyebrow at you quizzically. “Leaving?” he waves a hand at you quickly. “C’mon man pack your shit, lets go.”

“Wha-” you start, still confused even as Badd reaches over and starts helping you pack your stuff. “Go where?”

“Out, duh,” he heaves your bag onto his shoulder along with his own as you sit there, gaping at him. “The weather’s great today man, let's go to the mall or something.”

“What!” you exclaimed, face reddening in annoyance or embarrassment you couldn’t tell. “Weren’t you gonna… Weren’t we gonna…?” 

“Hm?” Badd hums, one hand already on the door, turning back to look at you with a look of such genuine confusion that you nearly believe him. Nearly. “Gonna what?”

“Gonna… You know!”

“Know what?”

“You- Badd!” you splutter, blush fully threatening to burn off your cheeks as your tease of a boyfriend finally breaks out in laughter. 

“Hmm (Y/N),” Badd snickers, leaning in close to you, one hand reaching to brush the hair out of your face, “what kind of break were you thinking of eh?”

You fume quietly, glaring at him, not quite realising that the blush on your face was making you a lot less intimidating than you thought. 

“You’re terrible,” you mutter, torn between annoyance and amusement at the situation.

Badd chuckles, moving to give you a soft comforting peck on the lips, his lips quirking up into a smirk against your own as he feels you kiss him back quickly. 

“Well, now that you mention it, maybe we should move our break to your place instead hm?” 

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 15

Day 15 - It is impossible to lie to your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Romantic Loceit, Romantic Prinxiety, Romantic Intruality

TWs: swearing [like, twice at most]

--

Logan found himself in a bit of a conundrum. 

He watched the other sides bicker and argue among themselves - what else was new? - while Thomas tried to calm things down. In truth, Logan had no idea why Thomas had bought the damn trinket, it was likely a scam anyway.

The item in queston was a small, relatively unobtrusive enamel pin that, according to the informative leaflet that came with it, emitted a ‘subtle aura’ that would prevent the wearer from lying to their soulmate. Logan was skeptical to say the least, but Roman, ever the romantic, had insisted Thomas buy it in order to weed out the lucky prince of his dreams. Of course, the pin had no effect in reality, but because Thomas believed it so, the effect on his sides was interesting.

“I can’t believe you wasted ten dollars on that garbage.”, Virgil scoffed, perched on the stairs as always. 

“Oh, come on Virge!”, Thomas tapped the pin fondly, “Even if it doesn’t work, it’s a cute design, right?”

“Wow. A red heart. Yes. Totally original. I can feel the no doubt months of work that went into designing it.”

“....Sarcasm really isn’t a great look on you, y’know.“ Thomas muttered, feeling dejected.

Roman piped up to his defense, “It’s a classic design, Bring Me The Depression! Sure, it may be a little plain, but classics are classics for a reason!”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Whatever, you just like it because you’re a sentimental dork.”

“And what if I am?! Better than being such a Robert Downer Jr!!”, Roman huffed, “You are one killjoy who should make far less noise.”

Before Patton or Thomas could butt in, Virgil murmured, “God, I love it when you make those references just for me-”

The anxious side slapped a hand over his mouth instantly. His eyes widened in horror at what he’d just said as the others all turned to stare at him. Roman especially.

“.... You do?”, the Prince bashfully inquired. 

Virgil uncovered his mouth, clearly about to try and cover his tracks when, “Of course I do, I love that you put so much thought into it for my sake!”

Once again, he clapped a hand back over his mouth.

Logan wasn’t sure how to take the topic away from this whole soulmates mess to spare his fellow left brain boy further embarrassment; they were aspects of Thomas’ mind, they didn’t even HAVE souls, not that Logan believed they existed. Power of suggestion is an uncanny force it seems. The logical conclusion was that they were merely acting upon feelings already harboured. 

The logical side had to admit, he really hadn’t seen this coming.

“.... Virgil,”, Roman began nervously, Logan realising he must’ve come to the same conclusion somehow, “What colour is my sash?”

The emo squinted at him curiously, “Red? Duh.”

“What color is the sky?”

“Depends on the time of day.”

“Best soda flavour?”

“Grape-”

“How much do you like me?”

“With all my heart-”

Virgil hauled his hood over his head and eyes, “Thomas turn that goddamn thing off RIGHT now-!!”

“No, no, this is way too much fun-!”, Roman began.

Virgil glared at him, his tempest tongue echoing with the weight of his anxiety, “Do you have a death wish, Princey!?”

“Yes if it means you’ll keep yelling at me in that tone of voice-”

Now it was Roman’s turn to look mortified. His eyes nervously darted from Thomas and Patton’s looks of excited adoration, and Logan’s look of sheer and utter “I am so done with this”. The prince swallowed anxiously, looking to Virgil who seemed to be just as nervous as he finally took the chance to sink out.

“Wait, Virgil! Don’t- Aw shoot! Just as you two were finally telling each other how you feel!!”, Patton lamented.

“Padre, you traitor!”, Roman huffed, crossing his arms as he sunk out. Logan theorised it was just an excuse to go after Virgil. Just then, a cackling voice erupted from behind the TV,

“Who knew Emo In Grouchland was so sweet on Roman? Shit taste!”, Remus snickered, vaulting over the TV and taking his spot with glee. Thomas sighed, “How long have you been listening in, Remus?”.

The duke grinned, “Oh, I’ve been here the whole time! I was waiting for a good moment to skewer Roman with this little gift I got him, but the conversation got soooooo juicy I couldn’t resist listening in!”. He brandished a serrated edged sword that looked positively lethal and extremely painful. Patton and Thomas both winced while Logan readied himself to step in should he be needed.

“On that note, Pattycakes, how come you keep losing the gifts I send you?!”, Remus piped up disappointedly, “I put so much work into them, but all you ever tell me when I ask you is that you ever get them!”

Thomas and Logan met Patton with immediate looks of intrigue while the father figure figment looked figuratively flushed. He avoided answering Remus directly, lying to Thomas, “I-! I dunno what he’s talking about, kiddo-”

“What is it our dear brainiac says?”, came a familiar smooth voice, “Ah yes. Deception!”

Logan shuffled to the side to let Janus have some room, “Actually, it’s Falsehood.”

“Whatever, sure.”, Janus waved a hand dismissively. He was more focused on the source that summoned him, tsk-ing at Patton, “All this truth being spouted and yet the one lying hard enough to summon me is our dear Morality. Colour me surprised.”

Patton avoided meeting Janus’ gaze, “I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Patton, did you just try to lie to my face?”, Janus chided, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

The moral side bit his lip nervously, pointedly avoiding Remus. Unfortunately, Remus wasn’t about to let that slide,

“Yeah, Pat, what the fuck!”

“I’m nervous, obviously-!”, Pat cupped his hands in front of his mouth, inadvertently letting Remus know he wasn’t able to lie to him. 

“So where DO my gifts go off to, Pattycakes?”, he asked expecting the garbage or a wood chipper.

“I keep them, obviously!”, Patton blurted, his embarrassment growing.

Remus clearly hadn’t expected that, asking before he even had the chance to reconsider; “Why?”

The moral side figured he might as well come clean considering their current situation,

“Because I love them! They’re gross and a little scary sometimes, but they make me feel wanted around here whenever I’m sad!”, he admitted, tugging on his cardigan sleeves, “They make me feel….loved...”

Remus looked just as stunned as the others, but that expression melted into a toothy grin quickly enough as Remus scooped Patton into his arms in a bridal style hold, “See you nerds later, I have the cutest bitch in the mindscape to sloppily make out with!”

Before anyone could stop him, not that they probably wanted to, Remus sunk out with Patton clinging to him tightly.

“..... On that interesting note, I think I’m gonna go grab a snack.”, Thomas mused, already headed to the kitchen when Janus sighed, “I do hope this insufferable truth telling ends. I enjoy illuminating the lies you all spout but if there’s none to highlight, then I’ll be out of a job.”

Logan shook his head, “That’s incorrect, you also embody Thomas’ self preservation meaning you handle far more than lies, but more importantly, if you were ‘out of a job’ then you would simply cease to exist, which would not be beneficial to Thomas’ safety and wellbeing.”

Janus rolled his eyes and leant against the arm of the L sofa. “Are you always this sweet when you’re correcting someone’s use of hyperbole?”

“I was not being sweet, I fail to see how-”

“I was just teasing you, Logan.”, Janus smirked, getting comfy, “But if I’m being honest, which I very much am, it’s nice to be appreciated around here.”

Logan furrowed his brow, “Do you generally feel unappreciated Janus?”

Even Janus wasn’t immune to the effects of the psyche either, “Yes-”

He caught himself and cast a worried look toward Logan. Thankfully, the logical side may be intelligent, but he sure wasn’t smart enough to read Janus’ gesture properly.

“Are you alright, Janus?”

“No.”, Janus uttered, unable to suppress the truth.

A flash of concern that etched itself into Logan’s face gave Janus some hope that perhaps his feelings might be returned; it was always harder to read Logan, about all Janus knew was that he did in fact have feelings despite his protests. But those exact feelings? He’d be damned if he could figure any of them out.

“May I be of some assistance then?”, Logan offered, sitting on the sofa seat that placed him next to Janus while the latter remained on the arm of the sofa.

“... I’m not sure.”, the lying side hated how uncertain the truth tasted, “But I would like to try something, if I may, Logan?”

Logan frowned in uncertainty, “...As long as it will bring no bodily harm, I am willing to try anything.”

Oh god, is he really doing this? Yes, apparently. Janus brought his left hand to gently ghost over Logan’s cheek, 

“May I kiss you, Logan?”

Ugh, Deceit loathed the crack in his voice, but before he could apologise and let Logan off the hook, the logical side replied, 

“Please do.”, Logan’s eyes remained locked on Janus’.

The serpentine side didn’t need to be told twice. Janus softly tilted Logan’s face towards him, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. It was soft, fleeting but with an obvious taste of longing. They both let out a content sigh n unison as Janus pulled back, 

“I’ve already asked too much but-”

Logan cut him off, already giving a fond smirk, “It’s alright. I will have Thomas ‘lose’ the pin in the garbage. Your work will be unimpeded, Janus.”

“Perfect. I believe you deserve a reward.”, Janus chuckled as the two went in to kiss once more..

----

Short ‘n’ sweet this time!

Just some gay disaster sides who can’t lie, ehe.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account   @cateye-glasses   @fandomsofrandom

[riversofmars]

Unusual time of day for an update, I know, but seeing as I’m working late the next couple of days and didn’t want to put it off, here we are! Time for a Thoschei heart to heart! Read on AO3 or below!

Chapter 11: Where I Stand

“Oh come on, crack a smile.“

Missy looked around, trying her best to keep her anxiety in check. She was surrounded by Cybermen. She had never been scared of them before. Cybermen had always kept to themselves, inhabiting only the most inhospitable planets, reclaiming the land for others, making use of their unique make up… They had never been hostile or weaponised before… but there was a first time for everything and in the hands of her childhood friend, they could be something terrifying indeed. She looked back to him as he fastened the control bracelet around his wrist and raised his impressive eyebrows at her in amusement.

“Why are you doing this?“ She asked shaking her head. She was at a loss.  

“Because I can.“ He shrugged.

“You already have everything.“ She gave a bitter laugh. He had bent most of the universe to his will, what did he need an army of Cybermen for? And why was he showing her?

“Almost everything.“ He corrected her. “See as I was conquering the universe I was thinking, there are two things, just two, left. Two wrongs that need righting.“

“I can think of a great many more wrongs that need righting.“ Missy retorted, unable to stop herself but he ignored her quip.

“Firstly, Gallifrey. My own people. They should be delighting in my triumphs, after all, is this not for the glory of the Gallifreyan Empire? Would it not please Rassilon to know the galaxy is finally bowing to to a son of Gallifrey?“ He spread his arms and in response, the the Cybermen started doing jumping jacks. He could make them do whatever he wanted, Missy realised. “But no, my own people have deserted me.“ He snapped and the Cybermen ceased their movements. “Cowards. Hiding somewhere. I will find them one day, you know, and oh the fun we will have. I cannot wait to see Rassilion’s face.“

“And you want me to help you find them? I don’t know where they are either! I’m an outcast, same as you.“ Missy replied bitterly. She had been looking for Gallifrey as well, not to return, no, but to make sure it was save from him. There was only so much she could do now. She had realised by now that she couldn’t stop him but she could still do some good, help people as she came across them. She would keep going as long as she could. She could only hope this wasn’t the end of the road now.

“Yes, you are. Same as me.“ He grinned.

“No, I don’t mean, I’m nothing like…“ Missy shook her head, that wasn’t what she had meant to say.

“Oh, but you are, Missy. And that’s what I’m trying to show you. That’s the other thing! Just think, the fun we could have together again. Remember how much fun we had at the academy? We were the best of friends.“ He stepped closer and held out his hand to her. She didn’t take them, she took a step back instead.

“That was a long time ago.“ She replied.

“But we could have it again.“ He smiled that incredibly charismatic smile of his. “Are you not mad at them for abandoning you?“

“They couldn’t have known…“ Missy evaded the question.

“Yeah, you just tell yourself that. Imagine if they actually never turn up again. Imagine if Gallifrey is actually gone for good. Then we are the last of our kind. Wouldn’t you rather walk the universe together? Friends reunited at long last. Everything you ever wanted I could give to you.“ He took the bracelet off and held it out to her.

“Doctor…“ Missy shook her head, she couldn’t believe he was serious. She eyed the bracelet with suspicion. Was there a trick to it? She could use it to stop him if she wanted.

“Don’t call me that, that is not my name anymore.“ He snapped, sharper than he perhaps intended.

“Emperor…“ She rolled her eyes at him. It was pompous and laughable in her opinion but he seemed to take it seriously indeed.

“Has a better ring to it, don’t you think.“ He smirked and she sighed:

“You are so wrong about so many things. Yes, you may have everything but does it make you happy?“ She asked shaking her head to herself. “You’re always looking for more, will it ever stop? Will it ever be enough? Will anything ever calm that rage in your hearts.“ It was a question she desperately needed an answer to.

“I don’t think anything will ever do that.“ He shrugged. “And why would I want it to stop? That rage is what made me. I can do whatever I want and the universe falls to its knees.“ The Emperor took a twirl, tightening his grip on the bracelet and all around the Cybermen dropped to their knees. “Don’t you want a taste of that?“ He held the bracelet out to her again.

“I can’t let you do this.“ Missy knocked the bracelet out of his hand and crushed it under her heeled boot. It wasn’t much but it momentarily destroyed his control over them.

“So what are you going to do? Stop me? Fight me?“ The Emperor laughed, spreading his arms out again daring her.

“Regrettably, I’m afraid I may have to do just that, yes.“ She replied. She knew there wasn’t much she could accomplish right now but she would keep trying.

“Oh Missy. Make the smart choice, just once. What do you even have to fight for?“ He smirked.

“Someone has to.“ She shrugged giving him a sad smile. How she wished to have her childhood friend back but it seemed like that Doctor was long gone.

“You and what army? You’re all alone.“ He snarled.

“And you have everything.“ Missy gave a bitter laugh. “But the drumming never stops, does it.“

——

“Yes she was here.“ Clara answered, River pushed herself closer to the door if that was even possible, she had to find out what was going on.

“And?! What did she want?“ The Emperor’s incredibly impatient voice sounded.  

“She didn’t come here on purpose I don’t think, if she did, she didn’t say, she just… attacked me before I could do anything, then bolted.“ Clara explained. River had to admit she was a good actress, she sounded believable enough. Her life probably depended on it.

“You should have someone look at that.“ The Emperor snarled, River could only presume she was referring to the cut Clara had given herself.

“That wasn’t the Doctor, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She did it herself to cover her tracks.“ Another voice cut in and this time River felt her hearts nearly stop. The voice sounded exactly like her own. “I told you all along she’s concluding with her!“

“What possible reason could I have? Your paranoia is…“ Clara was protesting as River tried to wrap her head around what she was hearing. It seemed as though there were versions of them all here. River had had this creeping suspicion that something wasn’t quite right with this place. She had been putting it off as side effects of the extraction chamber, but perhaps she should have trusted her instincts. This appeared to be some sort of parallel universe. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Your Highness, we have reason to believe she’s hiding in the citadel somewhere, most likely in disguise. Found a change of clothes a few corridors away.“ Another female voice piped up now, perhaps a new arrival.

“She’s probably back in the city…“ The other River mused.

“She didn’t use the passage way, I have men guarding it.“ The voice River couldn’t place retorted.

“Don’t leave a stone unturned until you find her, something brought her back into the palace after she’d left already, there must be a reason for it, she won’t go far.“ The Emperor snapped. “And if she doesn’t give up the information, I will have her strung up for the festivities tomorrow.“

“I know you have something to do with this. She came here to talk to you when I ran into her. And then she teleports in here and is gone by the time we arrive, very convenient don’t you think.“ River couldn’t argue with her other self. She was right on the money. She felt a sense of pride in knowing that whichever universe was concerned, she retained her intelligence and ability to see through a ruse.

“The Emperor doesn’t seem to think so.“ Clara bit back.

“I’ve got my eye on you.“ The other River warned her.

“Whatever you say your royal highness.“ There was no small measure of distaste in Clara’s voice.

“Both of you, stop it now, I’ve had enough of your bickering!“ The Emperor interrupted. “Let’s go, River.“

There was the distant slamming of a door and the apartment went quiet. River slowly stepped away from the door, trying to make sense of what she had just heard.

——

When the Doctor walked through the protective darkness of the Vashta Nerada her mind was in a haze. She felt better for being back in her own clothes but it made her stand out all the more. When she made her way through the camp, all eyes were on her. The Doctor didn’t know where to look, the destruction was devastating. People were working feverishly to build temporary shelter as night had fallen and they stopped as she walked past, shooting her accusing glances. This was all her fault, the Doctor realised, as if she wasn’t feeling terrible enough as it was.

“Missy?“ The Doctor called as she spotted her assisting an elderly couple in putting up a piece of heavy cloth for cover. She looked around in surprise.

“Doctor! You’re alive!“ She exclaimed and tied a knot to keep the sheet in place before excusing herself from the others. “Where have you been?“ She asked as she stepped closer. She looked her up and down. The Doctor’s body language spoke for itself. She looked exhausted and drained.

“The Monk, is he here?“ The Doctor asked looking around. “The chrono lock…“

“It’s gone. Was that your doing?“ Missy managed a small smile. The disappearance of the lock had been unexpected and inexplicable but knowing the Doctor had had something to do with it reassured her.

“That’s something at least…“ The Doctor sighed, she hadn’t really expected Clara to keep her word so this was a nice surprise.

“Doctor, what happened?“ Missy asked, part of her curious, part of her worried. The Doctor’s expression wasn’t one of triumph. She didn’t seem to be quite with it, even her t-shirt was the wrong way around.

“I uh…“ The Doctor blushed, realising what she was picking up on.

“Where did you go? Did they do something to you?“ Missy was searching her expression, trying to figure out what was going on. She was glad the Doctor was seemingly unharmed and that she had managed to free the Monk of his death sentence but she couldn’t help but wonder at what price.

“I… I’m in big trouble… really big trouble and I’ve done something bad…“ The Doctor whispered as she was beginning to process everything that had happened at the palace. Encountering River, the Emperor’s wife… what she had done with her, or rather, had been willing to do. And then to find her River, alive and well, she felt so incredibly guilty. And to top it off, Clara, her demands and threats. She had no idea what to do about it. Would it be the right thing to do, to help her topple the Emperor? Or would it only be transferring the problem from one tyrant to the next? And what would it mean for the Doctor if she played accomplice to this? If Clara could even pull it off. What if she was found out and they discovered her River?

“Okay, alright, I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that…“ Missy was taken aback by the devastation in the Doctor’s voice.

“What happened here?“ The Doctor asked looking around, the destruction only adding to her sense of desperation.

“The Emperor paid us a visit.“ Missy explained softly though she didn’t know how to sugar coat this.

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault, and now…“ The Doctor buried her face in her hands trying to compose herself. She was no use to anyone like this.

“Let’s go and sit down and then you tell me what happened.“ Missy offered softly and ushered her along to what was left of her tent. The front of it had collapsed but once they got through the layers of torn-up sheets, they got to the sleeping area that was still intact. Missy sat the Doctor down on the bed. She took her hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. It was this gentle gesture pushed the Doctor over the edge. She started crying.

“Oh Doctor… I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that.“ Missy didn’t know what to do at first. She was not sure how to deal with such a display of emotion. They had all hardened to the world around them, doing their best to keep their sanity, but what was most startling about it was that this was the Doctor. The Doctor who shared a face with her childhood friend who she was sure she would never find in a state such as this. Throwing caution to the wind, she pulled her into her arms and held her close. She stroked her hair, wondering what could possibly have brought this on. For a long moment, neither of them moved.

“I really messed up Missy, from start to finish…“ The Doctor wiped her face in embarrassment as she finally pulled away. “If I hadn’t been so selfish and used that extraction chamber…“

“Is that what brought you here? How is that possible?“ Missy looked at her confused. While she felt encouraged that the Doctor was starting to trust her and share things, it made little sense to her. She had never used an extraction chamber herself but she didn’t see how the technology could be connected to crossing between parallel universes.

“I don’t know if that’s the reason why I’m here but it’s what I was doing when I crossed over…“ The Doctor explained in a small voice. “In my universe, Gallifrey is destroyed, the Master…“ She looked up to Missy noticing her tensing a little at the mention of her name but she didn’t want to lie to her. Maybe it would help her understand why she had been so distrusting of her initially. “Sorry…“ She mumbled and took Missy’s hand, if only to show that she knew the difference between her and the Master from her own universe. “The Master destroyed it all. But I thought the extraction chambers might still work… and there was no-one there to police them… it was the only thing I hadn’t tried yet…“

“Did you lose someone?“ Missy asked softly though she felt she already knew the answer. It wasn’t how an extraction chamber was meant to be used but it sounded like the Doctor had been desperate.

“I’ve lost so many people.“ The Doctor laughed bitterly as more tears fell from her eyes. It was the most painful thing about being here, seeing the Emperor’s friends alive and well, while she had lost everyone. Missy was the exception. The Doctor couldn’t deny how wonderful it felt to have her, of all people, be here to comfort and support her. She had missed her childhood friend so much.

“Who were you trying to get back?“ Missy went fishing for a handkerchief by the side of the bed.

“My wife of course.“ The Doctor mumbled. “She died a long long time ago… And I thought if I got her back, I wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore…“ She took the handkerchief but just held it in her hands as she hung her head. River was back, she had managed it, but this was not the reunion she had hoped for.

“What’s your River like then?“ Missy asked sitting next to her again. She couldn’t help but feel deep compassion for this woman. She was indeed the exact opposite of the one she knew and she wanted to know her better. How she wished she had met her sooner. It was selfish, of course, the Doctor didn’t belong here and she needed to get back to her own universe, but for a moment she thought they could be the friend to each that they both had been missing.

“Hell in high heels.“ The Doctor laughed a little to herself, how did she best describe her? “Nice hair, clever, has her own gun and unlike me doesn’t mind shooting people, which I shouldn’t like but kind of do…“ They were lines recited from memory of course because she couldn’t find appropriate words to do her justice.

“Worrying, that doesn’t sound all that different to our River Song…“ Missy joked, unsure of what else to say. The words struck the Doctor to the core, it was the same misconception she was beginning to regret so dearly.

“She died saving four thousand people she didn’t know and me, on her worst day, when I had no idea who she was.“ To this day, the Doctor couldn’t forgive the cruel twist of fate. That the day River died was the day of their first meeting. She blinked away her tears. “I made her kill me, to fulfil a fixed point in time, had her take the fall and the prison term for it… She didn’t get a normal childhood, she was abducted and conditioned to become the perfect assassin, all because of me. My River… is the strongest person I know and she didn’t deserve the things that happened to her because of me.“ She balled her hand around the handkerchief, her sadness giving way to anger. She was so angry over everything that had happened to River but most of all, she was angry with herself. For how she could have been so weak. “And despite it all, she still fell in love with me… she deserved so much better.“

“It sounds like you love her a great deal too.“ Missy gave her an encouraging smile as she let her words sink in, almost regretting her initial quip.

“You should think so, shouldn’t you.“ The Doctor shook her head to herself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?“ Missy frowned, slightly confused but the Doctor pressed on:

“And now she’s here.“

“What?“ Missy exclaimed.

“I don’t know how… I thought it hadn’t worked.“ The Doctor shrugged. She still couldn’t quite explain it. Evidently, the extraction chamber had worked as planned, and why shouldn’t it have? She had done everything exactly right. Plus, River was dressed the same as she had been in the Library. It all added up. What she couldn’t explain was how she got here, how either of them had.

“But that’s good, right?“ Missy didn’t know what else to say, surely these were good news? “I mean, an extraction chamber, it’s not exactly by the book but… it sounds like you’ve been through a lot so I understand…“

“Yes it’s good, of course it’s good, it worked but…“ The Doctor looked to Missy struggling to explain.

“Where is she now?“ Missy asked, realising what the problem was.

“With Clara…“ The Doctor answered burying her face in her hands again.

“I see.“ Missy said softly, she saw where this was going but let the Doctor explain in her own time:

“And she’s keeping her hostage, blackmailing me to help her.“

“What is she wanting you to do?“ Missy touched her hand to her shoulder. She knew she couldn’t be much comfort right now but she had to try.

“Take the Emperor’s place tomorrow and transfer power to Clara…“ The Doctor didn’t see any point in keeping this for her. Despite her natural distrust of her, she had seen enough of her friends turn on her to know that the opposite was very possible as well. Missy was her only hope right now. It felt so good to finally meet a Master she could actually trust.

“Did she say what she was planning for tomorrow?“ Missy frowned trying to keep up.

“She didn’t let me in on the details, she said to leave the plotting to her… Do you think that’s good or bad? Maybe you can get rid of the Emperor after all… though I’m not sure Clara would be an improvement… Could be an opportunity for you though…“ The Doctor didn’t know where her head was at by this point. She started rambling, as dangerous and desperate as the situation seemed, surely this could also be an opportunity too. It had to be. Something good had to come out of it. She had wanted to help and this might well prove their best and only opportunity if they could only turn this to their advantage. It’s what River would want and expect her to do.

“Doctor, we’re not in the business of toppling tyrants anymore, we haven’t got the capacity…“ Missy gave her a smile that was both kind and sad. As much as she would have liked to entertain the possibility once, these days she could barely keep the people down here safe. They had just had a painful reminder. A play for power amongst the Emperor’s rank and file was far above their pay grade.

“But if we found out what Clara is planning…“ The Doctor pressed on, surely she had to see that this could be their chance. Missy gave her a smile, she couldn’t help but admire her optimism but she shook her head. “But why not try?“ The Doctor asked, she couldn’t understand Missy’s hesitation.

“It’s no use, Doctor. Truly. Do you not think we’ve tried everything?“ Missy said softly.

“Then why are you still here?“ The Doctor snapped, surprising herself with the outburst. “You could just run, that would be your best chance, flee to the furthest reaches of the universe if you wanted to. But you’re still here.“ Suddenly she was angry again, it wasn’t even directed at Missy in particular, it was frustration with the entire situation.

“And leave everyone else to suffer? Can’t do that.“ Missy retorted, taken aback by her accusatory tone.

“You still have hope.“ The Doctor insisted taking Missy’s hands.

“Doctor…“ Missy shook her head.

“Please, Missy, you can’t be giving up.“ The Doctor pleaded with her. She couldn’t begin to understand what Missy and everyone here had been through, but she knew if she was anything like her - and in this universe she was - she could convince her.

“I’m not giving up. I try and focus on the things I can make a difference with.“ Missy tried to explain.

“But this might be the one chance we have to finally change things!“ The Doctor exclaimed. “Obviously not help Clara but if we can find out what she wants to do, maybe we can get rid of them all!“

“Doctor…“ Missy wished the Doctor would just stop, she knew she was right but the risk was too great. They had been managing okay, hadn’t they? Things would only get worse.

“Just entertain the possibility. I know you want to, you’re just scared!“ The Doctor could see it in her eyes.

“Doctor, this is too dangerous to involve ourselves in. For a start, no matter what Clara Oswald might be planning, I don’t think she would ever be able to outwit the Emperor. Most likely outcome is that she will get herself killed.“ Missy shot back, the Doctor hadn’t been here long enough to understand yet. The bitterness in her voice gave the Doctor pause.

“But she must have something she didn’t have before, else she wouldn’t try now when she never did before, it’s a huge risk…“ The Doctor tried to reason. Clara had a good life as it was, she wouldn’t risk it if she wasn’t confident she could succeed.

“Yes it is. And you are the thing she didn’t have before, you realise that, right?“ Missy exclaimed.

“Yes, maybe but all she wants me to do is take the Emperor’s place.“ Surely, Clara had to have more aces up her sleeve.  

“That’s all she told you. Believe me, she will realise she needs more than that from you, and while she has your wife, she will be able to get your help, won’t she?“ Missy retorted, trying to make her understand. “Don’t think it will be that easy, Doctor.“

“I don’t. I realise that.“ The Doctor knew that none of this would be easy. She found herself in an incredibly desperate situation but the more she thought about it, the more she realised that in this fight, they also had something they didn’t have before: The ability to work and stand together at last. The Doctor and the Master. She just had to make Missy see the value of that. She straightened herself up and gave Missy a smile. “Here is the thing, Missy: In my universe? You wouldn’t be here. You would have run away, faced with a situation like this. There was this one time, I’d spent so much time with you and tried so hard to make you see, help you, get my friend back… and I thought you had changed - that my Missy had changed - but she turned her back on me. When it came to it, to making a stand, facing certain death, she walked away. But I couldn’t let those people die then and you’re doing the same thing here, now, that’s why you haven’t gone. And that is the reason why we will succeed.“

“Doctor…“ Missy sighed. She just didn’t give up, did she.

“I know it’s scary, like you say, you’re barely managing and let’s be honest, this is barely living, is it? It’s surviving but even that is only a matter of time now, surely you realise that.“ The Doctor squeezed her hands.

“She left us alone for so long before you came…“ Missy didn’t mean for her words to hurt her or accuse her, it was just a fact. They had been left to their little lives for the most part and so they had stopped trying, assuming this was the best they could have.

“Yes and I’m very sorry about that but she’s sensing that too, that’s why she came here to intimidate you. That this is your chance. You also have something you didn’t have before now: Me. And you don’t have to coerce me into helping. I want to.“ The Doctor explained, pleading with her to understand.

“Why? Why would you do this? Are you always like this? Making other people’s problems your own? Your best bet would be to try and go along with what Clara wants and try and get River out and go back to your own universe, flee and let the chips fall where they may…“ Missy gave her a half-hearted smile.

“I can’t do that.“ The Doctor shook her head. The thought had certainly crossed her mind, to come up with a plan to save River before Clara could force her cooperation but not only would it be difficult, it would also ruin this opportunity they had. The cracks in the Emperor’s reign were showing, they had an opportunity to smash them wide open if they took a chance. The more she thought about it, the surer she was that this was what they had to do. The Doctor still didn’t know whether they would even be able to cross back into their universe and if they wanted any hope of a decent life for themselves or the people here, this had to be done. Her sadness and anger gave way to steely determination and she could see in Missy’s eyes that she knew that too.

“You really think we could win?“ Missy asked softly and the Doctor grinned, knowing exactly what she needed to hear:

“I’m not trying to win. I’m not doing this because I want to beat someone, or because I hate someone. It’s not because it’s fun and God knows it’s not because it’s easy. It’s not even because it works, because it hardly ever does. I do what I do, because it’s right! Because it’s decent! And above all, it’s kind. It’s just that. Just kind.“ She pulled Missy into her arms and held her close. “Who I am is where I stand. Where I stand, is where I fall. Stand with me.“

[bloodfromthethorn]

Can’t Wake Up

Sitting beside a hospital bed was bad. Sitting beside a hospital bed waiting for your friend to wake up so he could tell you who had kidnapped your missing partner was oh so much worse.

Part six of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.

Also on AO3. 

..

It was starting to feel like Jack had spent more of his nights sitting in uncomfortable hospital chairs beside uncomfortable hospital beds than he had sleeping in his own apartment. No doubt if he were here, Mac would laugh at the notion and spout of some facts about the psychology of time moving slowly when you’re worrying about something, but then, that was rather the issue, wasn’t it? Mac wasn’t here.

Instead, what Jack had was a house in total disarray, a missing EOD tech, and a heavily drugged best friend who, six hours after being found, was still absolutely refusing to stir.

Arriving at Mac’s house to find the tell-tale signs of a fight and no blond in sight was a memory Jack never, ever wanted to repeat. Then he’d quite literally stumbled over Bozer’s body where it had slumped down beside the kitchen counter and Jack had momentarily forgotten all thoughts of Mac in his desperate scramble to find a pulse. He didn’t breathe again until he did, nearly collapsing with relief when he established Bozer was alive and seemingly not hurt.

Of course, he then had to revise that assessment when the paramedics he’d summoned discovered the track mark on the crook of Bozer’s elbow. Some hurried bloodwork panels had identified a heavy-duty anaesthetic that shouldn’t pose any real health risk, thank god, but that still left him sleeping it off while Mac was in trouble out there somewhere in the world. Even with Riley digging through every security camera and system she could find, the afternoon had slipped away with absolutely no progress on where Mac had gone or who might have taken him.

Somehow, someone had managed to get into Mac’s neighbourhood, break into his house without tripping the alarm, dose Bozer and nab Mac, and then flee the scene without ever once showing their face. Riley hadn’t even managed to identify a vehicle out of place on traffic cams – they’d momentarily thought they got lucky when they spotted a handyman van, but one completely unnecessary tac-team raid and a very confused plumber later, Matty was left making apologies and Jack returned to Boze’s bedside without success.

He ran a frustrated hand over his face with a sigh.

It felt like his day had been going on for a hundred years, but the very thought of sleeping was impossible. Mac needed him and despite what the nurses had been trying to tell him for hours now, Boze wasn’t looking so hot either. According to the Phoenix med team, he just needed to sleep off the drug and then he should bounce right back; even if they were wrong, they were keeping him in for observation to make sure they caught any unforeseen negative reactions. Jack wasn’t entirely convinced – he wouldn’t be until Boze opened his eyes again and, hopefully, told them what happened to Mac.

Without anything else to go on, Bozer was their only lead and he wasn’t waking up. If he didn’t – or if he did and he didn’t know where Mac was – Jack had no idea what he was going to do. Something Mac wouldn’t approve of, probably.

For now though, Jack couldn’t focus on that. All he could do was sit there and monitor the slightest changes in Boze’s vital signs as he gradually came out of sedation. Riley had wanted to be right there with him, but her connection was better in the War Room, and being able to use the big screen came in handy when she was juggling too many data feeds at once; the compromise they’d struck was that Jack had promised to call her the second anything changed with Boze, and she’d agreed to do the same if she found any information about his missing partner. So far, his phone hadn’t buzzed once.

“I don’t know if you can hear me in there man,” he said quietly to the silent room, “But if you can, I really need you right now buddy. Mac really needs you.”

Boze slept on, undisturbed. Jack took a shaky breath, sighed, and leaned back to settle in for the wait.

..

No matter how much Jack hoped and prayed and stressed and bargained, the clock ticked past midnight without a single stir. Another blood test had revealed that the levels of the drug pumping through Bozer had decreased substantially, but it was still clinging on. Jack was of half a mind to demand they get him hooked up to a dialysis machine to speed up the whole process, but even with everything going on he could understand that the risks outweighed any possible benefits. He wasn’t about to gamble with Boze’s life on the off-chance he had information about Mac.

Mostly he whiled away the time staring into space and desperately trying not to think of where his partner might be in that moment. Unfortunately, he never had been particularly good at not assuming the worst, and he had a long, dark history of run-ins with the lowest of the low to provide him with some truly impressive imagination.

He was able to distract himself for a brief while when his primary tac-team switched out at the end of their shift. All of them requested to be kept on despite the fact that they’d been working for a solid twelve hours – Mac was well-liked, and Jack had made a point of ensuring he got to know the boys with guns who always ended up running in to save the day – but he’d insisted they go home to get some rest. When they’d refused, citing his own hypocrisy since he had no intention of leaving the medical bay, he’d let them bully him into agreeing to call them when they got a lead on Mac. With that sorted, he’d settled in to brief the replacement shift who’d all immediately grasped the seriousness of the situation. At the rate they were going, by the time they did eventually catch up with Mac, Jack would have half of downtown LA backing him up.

“How’re you doing, man?” He asked when he returned to Bozer’s room. The nurses had been given orders to call him if anything changed, but it was clear at a glance nothing had. “You’re making me sleepy just looking at you, y’know?”

Like practiced steps of a dance, he shuffled back into his seat and cursed as his bones protested.

Twenty minutes later, the door cracked open and Riley inched her way inside with a coffee holder in one hand and her rig in the other. When he scrambled up to help her, she thrust the two coffee cups in his direction and planted herself firmly in the second chair to resettle the laptop on her knee. Programs Jack wasn’t about to try to even understand whirred away on the screen.

“One on the left is yours,” she said in greeting, nodding at the coffees. “Thought you could probably use some caffeine if you aren’t going to sleep.”

“Hey, hey, you don’t get to hassle me about it when you’re still here too. When was the last time you slept, huh?”

She sighed heavily, reached for her coffee, and shook her head. “It feels like years ago.”

The best Jack could offer her was a grim smile and a gentle knock to the shoulder as he retook his place at Bozer’s bedside. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“I still haven’t found anything,” she said after a long moment of looking over her slumbering friend. Jack already knew that because she’d have told him if she had, but the self-accusation in her voice was hard to miss. He whipped around to face her.

“Sweetheart, that’s not on you. You’re doing everything you can and sometimes that just ain’t enough. It’s not your fault.”

She digested that for a moment, and Jack got to watch the heart-breaking shift when the last ten hours caught up to her and her gaze suddenly turned watery. He had his arms out and was pulling her into his tightest hug before she had a chance to say a word.

“It’s okay,” he murmured in her ear as his shirt grew wet. He smoothed down her hair idly with one hand. “Don’t you worry none, it’s going to be alright. It’s okay.”

“I’m scared Jack.” Her voice was small and tremulous.

His breath caught in his throat, heart clenching painfully. “Me too darling. Me too.”

..

For all their waiting, when the moment finally came it all felt a bit anticlimactic. There was a slight uptick in Boze’s heart rate, and then five minutes later his eyes blinked open and he turned to look at the pair of them like nothing was amiss. Jack was so worn down by stress and exhaustion that it took him a second to realise he wasn’t imagining things.

“Boze? You with us?”

He blinked. “Jack? Riley? What-” His eyes did a quick circuit of the room, then down at the wires and monitors he was hooked up to. They let him do the math on his own and by the time he turned back to them, the sleepy haze had entirely vanished. “Guys, Mac’s in trouble.”

They’d known it all along, really, but the confirmation still felt a bit like being stabbed with a rusty blade. Still, Jack limited himself to just nodding. “We know Boze. We were kinda hoping you could help us out with what happened.”

Bozer was already trying to pull himself up, tugging off his pulse ox and chest tabs as he went then glaring at the monitors as though it was their fault they were suddenly beeping in alarm. Riley pointedly leaned over and flicked them off in turn. “You remember that mission three months ago, in Bolivia?” Boze was saying. “With the human traffickers?”

Riley was already tapping away at her laptop, pulling up mission reports and key phrases and a whole host of information Jack was distantly sure she should have access to.

“Yeah,” he said instead of questioning it. “We cut off the supply and took down that big guy running the thing. Cameron?”

“Callahan,” Riley corrected without looking up.

“Yeah,” Bozer agreed instantly, snapping his fingers. It was hard to remember how still he’d been just a moment ago now that he was all but vibrating with animation. “Him. Turns out he had a brother. Guy busted in through the back, got the drop on me and Mac. Brought some friends with him for good measure. I didn’t catch all of it, but he said something about wanting to make him pay for letting his ‘merchandise’ go.”

Something sick turned over in the pit of Jack’s stomach but now was not the time to dwell on the more horrific aspects of society. Now was the time for action, and if Jack had his way that action was going to be violence.

Riley’s fingers were like lightning over her keyboard.

“Ri, you got something for me?”

She didn’t break stride. “Not yet, but I think I’m about to. Go get your team, I’ll call you.”

Jack hopped to his feet with sudden energy, clapping a warm hand to Bozer’s shoulder before snagging his jacket and darting from the room. That was one member of his team safe – now it was time to save the other.

Now continued in part 2. 

[wegoingsofthours]

A Harmless Mistake ♡ Jung Hoseok

Member: Jung Hoseok

Genre: Fantasy, Demon AU

Summary: In which you summon a demon, the problem is there's no way you can send him back

Note: Based on this ask here (Sorry it took longer than expected. I don't really do that well with fantasy related topics so this was a bit trickier to write. But hope you still like it)

This wasn't meant to happen. Surely a simple potion spell could be mixed up with a summoning spell. How were you meant to know that messing up just the slightest word could cause such a drastic burden to fall upon you.

You stood in front of the ensemble of coloured liquids, all harmless in this state yet deadly when meddled with in the hands of an inexperienced person. In your own hands. Rather than waiting to be taught the uses of the potion ingredients, you took it upon yourself to be self taught the work of witchcraft. After all, those with power should be able to teach themselves when necessary.

In your state of panic, smoke emitted from the cauldron containing the mixture, clouding your vision from the figure that would be soon approaching.

Red smoke.

Red had been the colour you had been anticipating. The colour was indicative of the least humane from all of creation. A demon. And a powerful one at that. Hadn't it been for your curiosity this wouldn't have happened. You mentally cursed your foolishness, your pride leading you astray from your initial intentions.

But you had no chance to ponder over that anymore. You had a bigger issue at hand, one that could be the means of your survival or death.

Panic-stricken and fearful of your fate, you clutched your hands onto your ears, blocking your sense of hearing. Although it wouldn't make any difference, it lead you into a slight sense of security.

To put it simply, you has been hopeless, nothing would take you out of this situation so you were to face your own consequences.

Amongst the vast amount of destruction around the room, the figure had emerged.

"H-Hello" you asked, cursing the weakness of your voice. You'd been a target, and a helpless one at that.

"Hm?" was the only sound that escaped the mouth of the person in front of you, but although he had adopted a human form, he was still as inhumane as ever. You studied his appearence. It was nothing out of the ordinary, raven hair, dark eyes and a wide smile plastered on his face which would have been comforting but hadn't due to the way he hd entered.

"Um. Who are you?" you asked, still hunched over in a corner which after coming to the realisation of you stood up to appear less intimidated.

"Jung Hoseok. Or just Hoseok would do. So what brings me here? It's not every day I get summoned by any random human" he asked sarcasm apparent in his tone.

"I'm not just a human. I'm a witch in fact. I apologise for the inconvenience. This wasn't meant to happen" you said fumbling through the pages of the book.

You found out that the page of the book had been mixed up. How could you be so foolish? Of all other spells to mess it up with it had to be a summoning spell. And out of all spells, why had this one been so simple to perform. You always expected summoning spells to be more difficult.

"It wasn't? Well I was meant to be relying on you to get me back. But you couldn't even do a simple summoning spell right. Tell me, who were you trying to get here in the first place" he asked, standing directly in front of you, arms crossed almost menacingly.

"Nobody. I mixed it up. I wasn't even meant to bring anyone to this place at all"

"I don't believe that. How could you use that spell without the intent of bringing spirit here?"

He had a point. You knew some people had struggled to invoke spirits or other worldly beings but you had managed to pull it off. It wouldn't be able to pass off as an accident in anyone else's eyes.

"I mixed it up. The incantation was all off" you said pointing to the page in your book where the spell had been mixed up. He glanced over the words of the books noting you had been in fact correct. But one concern arose which you knew had to be solved.

"Hm. I see. Well then, how do you plan on sending me back. Surely you should know a solution"

"Um. It should be here somewhere. It'll be in one of these books" you said, raking through the various books on your shelf.

This could take a while.

You spent hours searching for spells. Time travel, healing spells, even death incantations but nothing about sending back demons. You worked your way into the early hours in the morning while the demon you summoned had glanced over you, giving his own sarcastic input within the process.

It was 8am you noticed. You had to get to work. The group wouldn't be able to know their schedule for the day if you hadn't been there. You rummaged through your clothes, picking up a plain shirt and jeans before making your way to the bathroom to wash up.

"And where do you think you're going? We still need to find a spell" he asked, seemingly annoyed by your sudden rush to leave.

"I need to go to work. I'm a choreographer so I can't miss out on today" you replied shortly, attempting to leave the room again,.but his hand snaked around you to close the door in front of you.

"A choreographer? May I come along with you? I believe I have a few skills with me" he proposed. It was baffling to you that you believed demons to be vile creatures yet this one in particular had actually wanted to go to dance practice with you.

"I can't just-" you began.

"Either you take me with you or I'll keep you here. The choice is yours" he interjected. Of course he'd use blackmail to keep you in place. You pondered over the choice and figured it'd be easier to bring him along with you rather than keeping him in your room alone, knowing he would possibly look through your room without you knowing.

"You're enjoying messing with me aren't you" you remarked whilr he chuckled at your response.

"Of course. It's entertaining. Besides you're the one that brought me here, so you're the one that needs to make my stay here more tolerable" he countered knowing tou had to do as he said since it was your own fault. You were hopeless with his presence.

"I hate you" you said coldly.

"I never expected you to like me in the first place" he replied with the same coldness you had displayed.

"So everyone, I'd like you to meet Hoseok, he's the newest member of the group for now" you introduced

You waved him off to the group of six other men in the room. All six of them you noticed had greeted the new member of the group with a warm smile and a few handshakes. It was surreal how even as a demon he was able to be reply as humanely as possible. It made you wonder whether he had interacted with humans in the past. You found yourself in a trance by the scene in front of you, thoughts running rapidly through your mind until something snapped you out of your thoughts. Or perhaps someone.

"Hey. Are you alright?" one of the boys had asked who you recognised as Namjoon.

"Yeah. Sorry. Just blanked out for a moment" you sincerely stated before making your way to the group "How about you guys perform what you've got so far and we'll get Hoseok to practice after that?"

Rather than a reply they all maintained their formation. You walked to the side of the studio, the dark haired demon following suit besides you.

"So any dancing skills?" you asked noting it'd be a better idea to have asked previously before bringing him down to the studio.

"I may have dabbled in dancing in the past. Don't worry. I'll be able to do this dance since I know you must care so greatly about your reputation. Probably the reason you didn't want to get help to send me back right" he replied a smirk creeping up to his lips.

"That's not-" you began.

"Shh. The dance is starting" he said yet again proving, he was intolerable. You ignored him focusing your attention on the group in front of you.

The music began, a rather hip-hop sounding track at that. You had touched on various styles of dance but this week had been practicing the particular style of music. You had to admit they had done well with the dance, moves sharp and rhythm on point. Aside from a few slip ups which were expected considering your limited amount of practice but nothing that couldn't be fixed.

"Interesting" Hoseok mumbled to himself.

"In what way?" you replied as he turned his attention towards you, unsure whether it had been a positive or negative thought crossing his mind.

"I've never seen this style before as much. Demons have a more classical style of dance. But I believe I have a grasp on the dance now" he said as you realised how modernised the dance was compared to the other styles out there.

"Would you like to try it out now?" you asked seeing as the dance was now over, guiding him back to the group. You claimed his position in the dance, not quite in the centre but not towards the back where you wouldn't be able to see him. Rather you placed him to the far right in the middle where you could see him easily.

"Now let's take that from the top" you said, playing the song from the start, the song amplifying in the relatively small dance studio.

They began the dance yet again, this time your focus was solely placed on the group as you had no company besides you to take up some of it.

Your mouth widened in shock as even with only seeing the dance once, his skills were enough for him to pull it off perfectly. Each move was powerful to say the least, each twist and turn had looked effortless. It was as if he had been practicing it for a couple of months that he pulled each one off without a second thought. Once the dance ws over, he walked over towards you, a smile present on his face from your expression.

"How was that?" he asked already knowing the answer but wanting you to say it instead.

"Are you sure you haven't danced to that before?"

"I told you earlier, I said I have a few skills in dance. It'll be fun working alongside you"

"Working alongside?"

"I've made my decision to stay here. Don't bother worrying yourself about finding a spell to turn it back. Would you be willing to help me out?"

"If it's fine with you. I'll be honoured to work alongside you as well" you smiled, reaching out your hand to accept his awaited handshake.

Now you knew, even though it was a mistake that started all of this. A mistake was what fated you with each other. But it wasn't too much of a burden. It was only a harmless mistake in the end.

[marlinspirkhall]

Tomorrow Never Comes, Chapter 01: “Play Me”

For Non-AO3 Readers. Originally published on AO3. Written for the 2020 Star Trek Halloween Bang.

Artist: @idealisticcatastasis​

Content warnings: Graphic Descriptions Of Violence, Other Archive Warnings May Apply.

Chapter 1 Word Count: 5,719 words

[Front Cover] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

  There’s a groan. Jim shifts, ever so slightly, and the overhead lights flicker on. The room is flooded instantly by a bright, neon green, as if every surface has been covered in ectoplasm from an old horror movie. He’s leaning against something hard, and he pulls away from it with a groan.

 It’s a metal bathtub, set into the floor. Above him is a shower head, rusted with age, and the wall is in a similar state of disrepair.

 He catches a glimpse of something on the floor. A streak of maroon runs round the outer edge of the tub, trails to the ground, covers the floor in a patch around his feet- and yet, there’s not a drop of it on him. He shifts, tentatively, and it flecks off the metal floor. Whatever it is, it’s been further discoloured by the lights overhead, and it takes him a moment to process it. Not brown, he realises. Red.

 Something stirs his stomach. Most of it is darker, dried, but the puddle around him is only half-congealed.

 He leans forwards, and grimaces. In the center of the bath, a message is scrawled in blood:

“Play me”.

A long, jagged arrow points to the center of the bath. Tangled in a mess of frayed wires is a single screen, slightly larger than a PADD. Dried fingerprints. For a split second, Jim considers showing his discovery to the others, but the moment passes.

  He reaches over, and turns it on. It crackles to life. A video is already queued, and it plays automatically. He fumbles with the screen, almost drops it, because- the person on the recording- is him. He looks different on the recording, though. The saturation of green, washing him out; the strange way he watches the camera. An almost alien confidence.

 “Now, I know what you’re thinking,” the recording says, with a smile. “You don’t remember making this video. But, I assure you; you did.” He glances away for a moment, somewhere offscreen, and his voice softens. “It should be safe- he never comes in here.” He straightens up, and turns back to the camera. “But, I’m getting ahead of myself.”

 Jim frowns as the figure on-screen reaches for something unseen.

 “Now, don’t panic,” says the recording. “I want you to remain completely calm.” There’s a glint of metal.

 His eyes widen.

 “Everything is going to be alright,” the recording says. He holds a hand out, flat, and raises the other. In one, quick motion, he brings the axe down. Thud. A wet, tumbling sound. A muffled moan, and a hiss. The sound distorts further as the camera is knocked to the floor, pointing up at the ceiling, and the screen is flooded by the bright, overpowering green.

 Scuffling. A grunt of pain, then relief. The video shakes, and continues to tremble as the angle shifts, spins, and suddenly steadies. Jim notes the space where the trail of bloodstains ends. When he was recording, he must have placed it on the end of the bath.

 His recorded-self blinks, and exhales shakily. His right hand is now wrapped in a towel; soaked through quickly by blood.

 Jim stares down at his own hands. There’s not a scratch on them, and he still has all ten digits.

 Past-Jim exhales, his face drawn with pain, and gives him a shaky smile. “Now that I have your attention,” he says, “Let’s start at the beginning.”

[INSERT: IMAGE: “Divider green knife”]

 On the outskirts of Mars Colony Alpha is a large, concrete complex no-one discusses. A majority of the structure is buried beneath the surface, untold levels stretching beneath the dirt. Somewhere on the ground floor, James Kirk is onto his third book of the day. For the most part, he measures the days in books, and not the even, unbroken schedule of the guards.

 The gymnasium is about the size of an indoor tennis court, claustrophobic walls painted shades of beige and grey which don’t quite agree with each other. The tops of the walls are set with small glass observation windows, the glass tinted just enough that you can’t be sure when someone’s watching you.

 Some of the other inmates have formed small cliques, and Jim is reminded uncannily of high school. For his part, he keeps to himself, and takes up a space by one of the rowing machines. He’s so accustomed to ignoring the watchful gaze of the guards that it’s easy to pretend he doesn’t see the eyes across the room, studying him.

 At lunch, it’s the same. He eats quickly, and keeps one eye on his stalker. He’s certain he hasn’t seen him before. Judging from the eyebrows, he could be Romulan, though it’s impossible to tell for certain, as his ears are hidden by long, dark hair. Still, Jim thinks, it’d be unusual to keep a prisoner of war on this level; most of the people here are ex-starfleet.

 On the way out of the dining hall, he doubles back on himself, and slams into the man. He grunts, and Jim keeps walking, until he has him backed into a wall.

 “Why are you following me?” He hisses.

 The man tilts his head and stares down at him serenely, his dark eyes glittering. His hair goes just past his shoulders, and has a slightly silky quality. Up close, he can see that the man lacks the forehead ridges typical of Romulans- it’s far more likely that he’s a Vulcan. Jim slumps a little, his grip growing slack, but the man doesn’t move a muscle.

 “Hey!” A guard yells.

 Jim releases him with a blink, and turns on his heel.

 Footsteps follow him down the corridor.

 “That was not an invitation to continue,” Jim says over his shoulder.

 “I assumed you wanted an answer.”

 “Well, you know…” He walks faster. “A little mystery brightens my day.”

 “In that case, I apologise in advance for depriving you of your entertainment.” The man keeps astride of him easily, and Jim grits his teeth.

 “Don’t worry, you get used to it around here.”

 “Mm. A man of your talents must get bored easily.”

 The corridor splits in two, and Jim takes the left path. “And which talents would those be?”

 The man raises an eyebrow. “Your skill for decoding.”

 “I’m flattered,” he laughs, “Though, that’s not what the academy called it.”

 “Indeed. The academy had remarkably low tolerance for practical jokes.”

 Jim slows. “Well, that all depends on the effectiveness of the joke.”

 “Yes. Or, how well you cover your tracks.”

 Jim snorts. “Well… Hypothetically speaking, of course-” he lowers his voice. “Why would you come to me? I wouldn’t be here if I was any good at that.”

 “To respond in terms which are equally hypothetical- it is not a mistake you are likely to make again.”

 “Ah; I get it-” a guard passes them in the corridor, and Jim gives them a cheery smile. “You want me to join the prison’s cipher team.”

 The man nods. “That is correct. Though, the latest series of-” another guard passes- “Recreational puzzles would be presented to us in Klingon.”

 Jim shrugs. “It’s possible, but I’d suggest a xenolinguist, instead.”

 “Our search is limited to the confines of the prison-”

 “Of course,” Jim gives him a searching smile. “You are an inmate, after all.”

 “I always endeavour to remain discreet.”

 “Oh; that’s a useful skill,” he comments, as they climb the steps to the dorm areas. “You’ll have to teach me some time.”

 “If you’d like.” They climb the rest of the stairway in silence. At the top, the man lowers his voice. “It is unfortunate, when the government which incarcerates you falls.”

 “And why’s that?” Jim breathes.

 He quirks an eyebrow. “There’s no one left to overturn the ruling.”

 “That’s true,” Jim murmurs, and heads for his door. “But I’ve only got three months left, and then I’m out of here-”

 The man blocks his path. “Or, you could get out of here tonight.” He tilts his head a little, studying Jim intensely.

 “What?” The corner of his mouth twitches. “With you and the cipher team?”

 The man gives the slightest nod, and Jim considers it for a moment. It’s almost tempting. But, ultimately, whether he gets out today or tomorrow, there’s not much waiting for him outside.

 He steps around him with an awkward smile. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you-” he pushes the door open, and steps inside. “But it seems that rumours of my intelligence have been greatly exaggerated.”

 The man remains silent, yet there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

 “… Though, I’m still smart enough to do this.” Jim says in a breathy whisper, as he swings the door shut.

 At evening’s meal, Jim once again feels a pair of eyes on him, and pays firm attention to his plate. The main structure of the meal greatly resembles beets, and- if he concentrates enough- almost tastes like it. Still, his attention is split, and, when he next glances up, the man is no longer there.

 He frowns, and spears one of the roots.

 And sees something from the corner of his eye.

 He sits bolt upright, sliding backwards along the bench with a prologued glare at his unexpected visitor. The man is back; watching him with unsettling intensity.

 “You move fast,” Jim grumbles, and quickly stuffs his mouth to excuse himself from conversation.

 “Yes.” Not completely without manners, he remains standing; his hands behind his back in a posture which looks strangely familiar. It hits him suddenly, and he tilts his head at the man. At ease, he thinks, with a reluctant nod to the seat opposite.

 He sits.

 Jim swallows, and lowers his fork. “Let me guess,” he says, dully. “Your cipher team’s still one person short.”

 The man nods, his face carefully neutral. “Our team leader will be disappointed.”

 Something stirs in Jim’s stomach, and it’s not just dubious beets. “And… What happens then?”

 The man almost smiles. “You need not concern yourself with it.”

 “Uh huh.” Jim tries to remind himself to stay out of it. “But you didn’t come here to make small talk.”

 “No.”

 “You’re here to try and persuade me again.”

 He blinks at him. A silent question.

 “You’re going to tell me to

 The man inclines his head. “I sound convincing so far.”

 “I-” Jim laughs. “Son of a bitch.” He sits back in his seat. “That’s been your tactic all along,” he realises. “You were going to get me to talk myself into it.”

 "It is not a tactic. You simply anticipated my arguments before I could state them.”

“And, if I hadn’t done that?”

He considers for a moment. “I would have attempted to make you see the logic in joining me.”

“Right,” Jim straightens up in his chair a bit. “You are a Vulcan, after all.”

The man holds his gaze for a moment, then raises an eyebrow. “Is that enough to persuade you?”

Jim smirks. “Maybe. But you know more about me than I do about you- I don’t even know your name.”

“Spock.”

“Jim. But; you knew that.” He smiles, and sets his hands on the table with a slap. “How many people are on your... Cipher team?” The cafeteria is busy enough that they could talk openly, but Jim enjoys the slow-blinks Spock gives him when faced with unexpected information.

“Two,” he says, finally.

Jim stares at him. He studies his expression for a trace of the humour he saw before, but, apparently, the man is deadly serious.

Jim leans forward. “Granted, I don’t know the nature of the puzzles you’re dealing with, but-” he lowers his voice “- That doesn’t sound like nearly enough.”

“You will only be present for part of the operation.”

“Alright. So how many people are involved in the entire operation?”

 “That is a discreet matter.”

“As, I suppose, is the question of who you’re working for.”

 Spock nods.

 “Discreet.” Jim repeats, as he gives him an unsubtle once-over. “And they sent... You?”

 “I am capable of remaining inconspicuous,” Spock says, with the slightest smile.

 “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean people won’t notice you.”

 Spock frowns. “To what are you referring?”

 Jim smiles, coyly. “I’m afraid that’s a discreet matter.”

 Spock stares at the table for a moment, expression unreadable.

 “You want to know if you can trust me,” he says, finally.

 “Yes.”

 “You can’t.”

 Jim gives an amused huff. “That’s not a very convincing argument.”

 “Nevertheless, it is the truth.”

 “I get it. You prove your honesty, I trust you, I leave with you.”

 “I am not attempting to manipulate you; I am simply running out of time.”

 Jim frowns.

 Spock’s hands shift slightly under the table. “My partner, Leland, is breaking me out tonight- me, and the best hacker I can find.”

 Jim sits back “And, to think: I thought you chose me specially.”

 A breathy, almost-laugh. “He did.”

 “I’m flattered.”

 He watches Jim. “I…” He jerks his head. “Was not supposed to offer you a choice in the matter.”

 “… Less flattered,” Jim murmurs, as his eyes dart to Spock’s hands.

 Spock’s mouth twitches, and he lays them flat on the table. “I have no weapons.,” he assures him.

 Jim lets out a breath. “Do you need any?”

 “Well-”

 The cafeteria is plunged into pitch darkness. A murmur reverberates around them, and someone yells. Jim grabs at the table with one hand, and reaches into his pocket with the other. He searches for the familiar, smooth blade handle.

 It’s not there. His heart pounds faster. It’s in my quarters, he realises, trying to stave off a blind panic.

 After a moment, the emergency lights flicker on: a bright, unrelenting red.

 Spock tenses, his face bathed in the light, and he stares at Jim helplessly.

 “It’s okay,” Jim places a hand on his arm. “It’s just a power cut.”

 “No; it’s not.” Spock stands, suddenly, and surveys the hall. His grip is tight on the back of the chair. “It’s Leland. Stay here.”

 He takes a step forwards. Chair legs scrape as Jim scrambles to his feet. “Where are you going?” He hisses.

 Spock fixes him with a look. “To stop him from killing anyone.”

 “What-?”

 “Return to your rooms!” Bellows a guard.

 Jim turns, but Spock has already disappeared. Cursing, he hurries in the direction he left, being buffeted between the crowd. He weaves his way down the corridor, and the lights begin to flicker overhead. He curses, and moves faster.

 The lights fail as he’s half-way up the stairs, and he grips the handrail for support. The only source of light which remains are strips of bioluminescent paint which line the floor, tingeing everything in a faint blue-green. He stumbles to the top of the stairs. The few people who had returned to their cells wander out again, muttering amongst themselves, and the guards are nowhere to be seen. Jim reaches his room, out of breath, and leans against the wall, gasping.

 He should just stay here. He should just lie on his bed, and wait for the situation to be resolved. Instead, he reaches into his mattress, and retrieves the small, fold-out knife. He runs his fingers over the handle for a moment, and then slips it into the pocket of his jumpsuit.

 Downstairs, Jim skims his hand along the wall, to help navigate the pockets of darkness. The material is unusually coarse, like concrete with too many air bubbles trapped inside it, and there’s a scream up ahead. Heart pounding, he begins to move a little faster, passing the usually-secure area around the turbolift. Three inmates are clustered around it: two humans and an Andorian, bickering amongst themselves as they attempt to rewire the lock.

 There’s shouting up ahead.

 A guard stumbles into view, shouldering a phaser rifle. Jim freezes- but their attention is elsewhere, staring at something unseen. A yell echoes down the corridor, and it’s lit up by a flash of red, then blue, as the guard falls to the floor.

 Jim grits his teeth, and he pokes his head round the corner.

 The corridor is covered in debris, flakes of plaster and brick which used to be the exterior wall. At the other end of the corridor, guards and escapees are firing at each other indiscriminately, and Jim doesn’t stick around long enough to find out if the weapons are set for stun. He simply retrieves a flashlight from the fallen guard, and slips through the gap in the wall, out into the self-contained atmosphere of the prison dome.

 Outside, an alarm blares. His nose wrinkles. The air is thinner here, and slightly metallic. Recycled. He begins to walk uphill, figuring that the slight incline will help him find Spock- if that’s still his goal. Still, he doesn’t see how he’s going to make it much further without him.

 Still moving, he cranes his neck upwards. In the darkness, it’s hard to tell- the flashlight beam won’t reach that far- but he can just make out a large hole in the glass above him.

 As if someone has smashed their way in.

 The gap has been sealed by the self-repair protocol: a thick layer of fast-drying plastiform. He picks up the pace, pointing his flashlight at the ground as he comes over the crest of the hill-

 A runs bang-slap into the side of a dark grey shuttle.

 “Drop the weapon!” A voice growls behind him.

 Jim blinks, and steps back from the metal surface. “No… It’s just a flashlight,” he stammers.

 Something is pressed to the back of his head. The barrel of a phaser.

 “Then drop the flashlight,” the voice growls. “A phaser blast at this range… That’s not something you come back from.”

 The flashlight slips from his hands, and his heart pounds. He turns his head slowly.

 “Don’t move.”

 In the glare of the shuttle lights, Jim can’t see much, but he can just make out a pair of eyes, staring him down.

 “Leland-?” Jim realises, as something hard crashes into the back of his head, and he crumples to the ground.

 Jim wakes up at the back of the shuttle, lying on one of the stiff benches Starfleet was fond of calling ‘beds’. His head throbs, and he pushes himself up on his elbows with a slight groan. “What…?”

 As he sits up, a thin blanket tumbles from his shoulders, and he feels immediately colder. Spock sits in one of the seats facing him, his gaze fixed on the wall, and Leland sits in the pilot’s seat. Jim stares at the back of his head, eyes bleary. He has short, dark brown hair, and a dark grey uniform.

 Leland turns to him, and Jim spots a dark Starfleet badge on the front of his shirt. He throws Spock a questioning look, but he keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead, his lips pursed.

 Leland smiles. “Hey, Jimbo-”

 “It’s Jim.”

 “- James,” Leland waves a hand. “I’m sorry about pointing a phaser at you back there.”

 Jim gives him an awkward nod. “It’s… fine. But-” He rubs the back of his head. “You do know those things have a stun setting, right?”

 Leland smiles. “Well; I had no idea who you were.” He glances at Spock. “Tell him.”

 Spock looks up. “He had no idea who you were,” he says, robotically.

 “… It’s okay.” Jim glances between them, trying to work out the shift in the atmosphere while still nursing a headache.

 “It’s not okay!” Leland insists. “We’re a team now, so we’ve got to trust each other.”

 Jim closes his eyes. “Yeah, sounds good,” He murmurs. He leans his head back against the wall.

 “Really?” Leland asks. “Because you don’t sound that enthusiastic.”

 “I’m just-”

 Leland snaps his fingers twice. “Spock?”

 “You don’t sound that enthusiastic,” Spock says, dutifully.

 “Alright,” Jim exhales, and glowers at him. “It’s just: if we’re a team, then I’d prefer to know who I’m working with. I mean; you can’t be Starfleet.”

 Leland turns back to the viewscreen, and fixes his gaze on space.

 “Or, maybe you could tell me what we’re doing-?”

 “Relax. I’ll tell you the specifics when you get there.”

 “But-”

 Leland begins to hum to himself, and Jim’s gaze flicks to Spock. He, too, remains silent.

 He surveys the shuttle. There are about six seats in total- seven if you count the bench- and everything is a dark grey. Whoever designed the interior was a utilitarian, not an artist.

 There’s a pile of clothes at the back of the shuttle, and Jim notes that Spock, too, has changed into what appears to be a modified Starfleet uniform. He doesn’t recognise the badge, and wonders if they can really have gone through such an extensive redesign in six months. It’s sleek, all-black, identical to the one Leland is wearing. The last he’d heard, Starfleet didn’t even exist anymore.

 He rifles through the pile of clothes at the back of the shuttle, and changes into a pair of jeans and a red plaid jacket, feeling immediately warmer. As he swaps out the grey jumpsuit, he removes the knife from it, and slips it into his jeans pocket instead. Spock watches this without comment, but quickly looks away when Jim meets his eyes

 Jim studies the tense way that Spock holds himself. His hands are tucked away, arms folded just a little too tight across his chest. The shuttle’s internal temperature is probably only programmed to account for human standards, and he knows Vulcans are accustomed to warmer temperatures. Wordlessly, he reaches for the fallen blanket, and holds it out to him. Spock stiffens, and fixes his eyes on it. He doesn’t seem to want to make the first move. Jim leans forwards, and drapes the blanket over his shoulders in one smooth motion.

 Jim drifts off. When he next wakes up, the ship is orbiting a purple-blue planet covered in rivers and forests. The readout says it’s M-Class, but it appears to be deserted- no civilisation of any kind, with the exception of one, very faint, signal.

 “What is this planet?” Jim asks.

 Leland barely looks up. “Heirin.”

 “I’ve never heard of it.”

 “You wouldn’t have. This is Klingon space.” He nods to something out of the port window. “There’s an outpost on that moon which monitors most of the traffic in this system.”

 Jim looks up sharply. “And they just let us wander in?”

 “The magnetic disturbance from the asteroid belt on the other side of the system should have masked our signatures. Besides; they’re not on the look out for a little ship like this.”

 Jim searches the skies in the direction indicated. “Let me guess; this is going to be our little hacking project?”

 Leland gives him a look. “We want you to shut down the outpost via remote link. Heirin is just going to be our base of operations.” He grins, and sets the shuttle on a landing path on the night-side of the planet. Jim watches the tops of the purple-leaved trees get closer, and

 “And, when the Klingons find out about it?” Jim asks.

 “Relax. It’ll be a long time before they can find someone brave enough to investigate.”

 Jim folds his arms. “Klingons aren’t famous for their cowardice.”

 “No, they’re not,” Leland hums. “But, for this planet, they’d make an exception.”

 The shuttle continues to descend, flying over the purple-leaved trees and passing over vast swathes of pink fields. They cross over a wide river, flying low over a forest which looks distinctly greener than the others they’ve passed so far. Up ahead, a tall structure rises from the trees.

 It’s three three stories tall, and made mostly of dark metal. A gap in the center suggests that part of the building has since fallen away. They land in a clearing, to the right of it. Jim steps out of the shuttle, and surveys it from this new angle, as Leland and Spock unload a case of supplies from the back.

 “Where’s the server room?” Jim asks.

 Leland arches an eyebrow. “You don’t need to see it yet. Relax a little.”

 “Right… but you do have one, right? This place looks pretty broken down, and I can’t hack a Klingon outpost from this distance with your shuttle alone, no matter how high-tech it is.”

 Leland stares at him for a moment, his expression suddenly sombre. “If I told you where it was, what’s to stop you from shooting me?”

 Jim gives a little huff of laughter. “I can think of many reasons, Leland, but number one would be: I don’t even have a phaser.”

 Leland laughs in return. “Yeah?” He hands him one. “Well, you do now.”

 Jim stares down at his hands in surprise as Leland begins to move towards the stronghold, whistling.

 ‘What the fuck is wrong with him?’ Jim mouths, but Spock only stares at him.

 “Cosy,” Jim comments, as he hauls the first crate into the central hall. Everything about the stronghold speaks to Klingon architecture, but the interior has clearly been redecorated by humans. Large rugs and carpets cover sections of the floor. A wide sofa and two arm chairs sit on one side of the room, with a dining table on the other side.

 He prises the top off one of the crates, and peers inside. It contains numerous phaser power-packs. “I don’t think we’ll be needing all of these,” he says, with a nod to the far wall.

An innumerable collection of weapons adorn them, of Terran and Klingon origin. They’re assembled with seemingly little order, hung at irregular intervals by nails hammered into the wall. Five bat’leth’s, a crossbow with a laser, and a gin'tak spear. There are others, too- Romulan, Andorian- things he can’t quite place.

“Whoever was here left in a hurry,” Jim says.

 “Or, they never left at all.” Spock says quietly.

On the opposite wall is a large fireplace, comprised of neat, pink stone. The Mantelpiece almost looks like granite, although it’s much smoother. The material is probably local. A single staircase stands to the left of the fireplace, ascending through to the next level. The dining table sits to the left of this, just in front of the windows.

Jim wanders through a set of glass doors, and out onto the balcony.

A Veranda wraps around the second level of the stronghold, seemingly an afterthought: unlike the rest of the building, it is fashioned from a pale, beige wood. It doesn’t resemble any of the trees he’s seen on the planet so far, and he wonders if it’s been imported. He could almost believe it was built by humans, but the pillars follow the trappings of Klingon architecture: angular, wooden supports, slotted into reinforced bases. Still, it could all have been done in an attempt to mimic the existing styles. The one anomaly is a single, spiral staircase just off the center of the platform.

He keeps walking until he gets to the end of the allotted area. There’s a second, smaller communal area attached to the Veranda, fashioned from the same imported wood. Tattered banners adorn the walls, a dusky red: The emblem of the Klingon empire. Three triangular spikes jut out of a ring of white, and Jim stares at the symbol, rooted to the spot, realising for the first time that he’s deep in enemy territory.

In front of the flags is an alcove, which someone has evidently attempted to make comfortable by adding flimsy red cushions. Still, if this was intended as a place to sleep, he can’t imagine it would suffice, because, despite all its comforts- and the ceiling overhead- it is still, technically, exposed to the elements.

There are more pillars laid out in front of the alcoves. As he goes further into the area, his eyes widen, and he stops walking.

“Leland?” He calls over his shoulder.

There are footsteps as Leland approaches, and surveys the carnage in silence.

Blood stains the base of the pillar, some red, some magenta, and the cushions have been scratched up. There are places where the furnishings have been ripped away entirely, and one of the cushions is a deeper red than the others; a carpet placed over a strategic place on the floor. A single blade lies on one of the scuffed-up cushions. It’s Klingon: the blade is shaped like an arrow, with a decorative line cut out of the center. A d’k tahg.

 Leland approaches it with interest, and Jim spies a bloody handprint on the wall.

“I thought you said The Klingons never came here,” Jim breathes.

“Worried?” Leland grins, and reaches for the discarded d'k tahg. He twirls it between his fingers before adding it to his belt, a glint in his eye. “Don’t worry; by the time we catch their attention, you’ll be gone.” He claps him on the shoulder, and moves back along the balcony. Jim breathes shallowly, the feeling of foreboding intensifying.

 They return to the shuttle via the spiral staircase, and finish unloading the supplies. Everything comes in unmarked boxes, but Jim assumes that the rest of this must be food- although, if anyone is the type to pack more ammunition than food, it’s Leland.

 Jim leans on a crate. “You still haven’t told us what this place is, exactly.”

 Leland shrugs. “I thought it was self-evident: An abandoned Klingon stronghold.”

 “But why is it abandoned? They can’t have forgotten about it,” he says, with a nod to the pylon on the roof.

 Leland grins. “The Klingon’s know about it, but they avoid this planet like the plague. There are a lot of… Superstitions attached to this place,” he says, cryptically.

 “What; are you going to tell us a scary story?” Jim folds his arms.

 Leland smiles. “I might. But you’d need to gather some firewood... Scary stories are best told around a campfire.”

 Jim hesitates, and thinks of the nice, warm-looking fireplace in the cabin. Still, he wouldn’t mind the chance to explore- and to get away from Leland for a while.

 “Fine.”

 Spock stands stiffly, perhaps from the cold, and Leland turns to him. “Go with him, Spock. Make sure he doesn’t get… Lost.”

 Jim spreads his arms wide. “It’s a big planet. Where am I gonna go?” He bellows over his shoulder. His voice echoes off the trees.

 The bark of the trees here are tall and green, and he’s reminded, suddenly, of the moss back on Earth. The thought is accompanied by a familiar gut-punch, so he instead focuses on the plant life which surrounds them. The trees are surprisingly thin, despite their great height. He’s so busy craning his neck that he stumbles on something hard. He braces himself on a nearby tree, and Spock comes to a sudden stop behind him. The rock he tripped on is covered in a thin layer of bioluminescent fungus. The mushroom itself is a bright, sickly shade of green, though the light that it emits is more pleasant, soft lime.

 Behind him, Spock shuffles restlessly, so Jim steps to the side. They make fleeting eye-contact as Spock takes the lead, treading a path through the untouched undergrowth. Though he’d never admit it, Jim feels a small thrill of adventure. He remembers the days when he wanted to join Starfleet; the promise of exploring the unknown too tempting to resist- before The Unknown came to kick their ass.

 Jim watches the back of Spock’s head, and wonders what’s going on in there. The man he’d met on Mars Colony and the man in the shuttle were two very different people, which he’d initially blamed on Leland’s influence. Still, there’s something unsettling about Spock’s continued silence.

 “So, tell me,” Jim says. “Why were you in that prison? Leland couldn’t do his own dirty work?”

 Spock barely glances at him. “He would have been recognised.”

 “I’m sure.” Jim trots alongside him. “But, you being in there- that wasn’t just a cover, was it?” He studies Spock’s profile as they walk, trying to work out how close he is to the truth.

 A cyan light shines off Spock’s face, and still, he says nothing.

 “C’mon,” Jim swipes a branch out of the way. “A guy like you should have made Captain in what, five years, maybe six?”

 Twigs snap underfoot.

 “That was your goal, was it not?” Spock says, finally. “To become the youngest Captain in Starfleet history, on a bet?”

 Jim straightens up a little. “How did you know-?”

 “-And the reason you thought it necessary to cheat on The Kobayashi Maru.” He raises a brow pointedly, and sets off towards the woods at a fast march.

 Jim slides on loose stones as he hurries after him. “You knew Captain Pike,” he realises.

 “Yes.”

 “So, it wasn’t your aspirations which landed you here. A mistake, then?” A branch catches in Spock’s hair, and ricochets back into Jim’s face. “Ow!” He hisses.

 Spock glances back. “A mistake.”

 Jim glowers at the back of his head, and rubs his jaw. “I’ll say,” he mutters.

 “Perhaps-” Spock halts without warning “-We are both here for reasons outside our control.”

 Jim rubs his nose.

 “- As you said earlier; it is a big planet.” Spock turns to him. “Big enough that it is not entirely inconceivable that you could make it back to the shuttle without Leland’s notice.”

 Jim blinks at him. “I’d need the keys for that,” he says, finally.

 “You would,” Spock says, neutrally. “And you would find them, in my pocket.”

 “I wouldn’t get very far.”

 “Perhaps. But, the treatment Klingons give their prisoners is likely to be kinder than Leland’s.” He turns to keep walking, but Jim grabs his elbow.

 “And, what; you want me to strand you here with him?”

 “Preferably not. But, whoever leaves will have a greater chance of escape as long as the other keeps him distracted.”

 “Then- why not you?”

 “I am responsible for bringing you here.”

 He chuckles softly. “Perhaps. But I chose to come. And I’m not leaving without you.”

 His eyes dart to him. “Then you are a fool.”

 Jim grins. “And I thought it was obvious.”

[Front Cover] [chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

[memcaked]

Secret

Source: Subarashiki kono Sekai | The World Ends With You

Relationships: Misaki Shiki & Sakuraba Neku, Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya & Sakuraba Neku, this can be read as nekushiki if you squint. that’s their magic.

Characters: Sakuraba Neku, Misaki Shiki, Kiryu “Joshua” Yoshiya

Additional tags: Trauma Nightmares, self-care, warning for a paragraph of blood and violence that might be triggering, TWEWYTOBER, TWEWYTOBER 2020, Beta Read

Summary: It’s like sometimes Neku gets this idea in his head that Joshua is some lonely boy like him he’d want to intellectualise with, and not a callous murderous death god in a human kid’s clothing who hasn’t talked to any of them in months.

Beginning notes: Addendum: This was written and published on October 12th, 2020. this was originally about lines from w2 that'd fucking Hurt with the final twist that turned into neku's frustration with absentee joshua that became trauma dreams somehow. still feel like i need to redo introduction but at that point i was at like 900 words and just wanted to finish it since i bloody overscoped this huh. nobody said i had to follow the prompt mate

blows a kiss to will @makosinnergy for reading through this and pointing out some rather incoherent lines

Body:

“The Composer... The guy in charge of Shibuya?”

“Correct. We're in the Composer's Game. The Reapers are just his enforcers. They execute his designs.”

“Some designer. His Game royally sucks.”

“Hee hee... doesn’t it?”

-

It’s like sometimes Neku gets this idea in his head that Joshua is some lonely boy like him he’d want to intellectualise with, and not a callous murderous death god in a human kid’s clothing who hasn’t talked to any of them in months.

Even a mention of that name swamps him with some prissy kid he’d whack like he almost did to Shiki and the mistreated boy who doesnt like people just like Neku did and the killer who has all the impunity in the world to keep a vice grip on his partner and the imperfect protector he wouldn’t ever be able to apologise to a killer and the villain who put him through all this to someone he respects and wants to talk to for once… if he can fucking pick up the phone when Neku keeps calling, calling, calling.

-

Remembering anything he dreams about is such a rarity to him, but there’s been far too many late nights where he wakes up from his counting like a rocketship to blasting what was his… friend? to pieces and becoming a fucking murderer coated in dark, clotty blood that weighs his clothes like an iron ball (the one anyone who takes a life like that deserves). The blood doesn’t stop gushing and pooling and running all the way up the walls, the static fizzes even harder in his ears and clouds his reddening vision as the body falls apart, wilts and sinks like a plucked daisy going brown. Because of him, because of him, because of him

And then Neku’s torn away from those nightmares, his pyjamas soaked in so much sweat he can’t stop seeing as blood. He curls up fetal position trying to gather the energy to either sleep or get out of bed but he can’t, he’s fixed in this spot as the minutes drawl past like hours, tired and terrified and the dread washing over him when he realises fuuuck, it’s a school night. When the sun rises his hands still shake too much to do his hair and he walks into the building, with weak spikes that barely stand; he wasn’t really looking in the mirror much, brought his headphones and went.

Shiki pulls him into a corner minutes before class starts, asking if he’s up to going into class when she’s noticed how paranoid, puffy panda-eyed he looked. His breathing gets funny when he starts babbling about how he had a nightmare he shot Joshua and there was blood fucking everywhere as Shiki’s eyes flash every few seconds as she keeps track. She presses her hand to his chest, “You said that was the third time? Did you manage to shower after it?”

Neku is stone-cold lucid when he freezes up, “No? It was in the middle of the night, it’d wake everyone up. I couldn’t move from my room."

“Hey Neku,” Shiki chews her cracked lips, “are you free after school? I want to take you somewhere. I think it’ll help you.”

After stumbling through a blur of classes it leaves him tired and sleepy and not paying attention to where they go until he zones back into aisles that he vaguely remembers as a store he visited back in the Game. He mumbles where, she answers Nishimura Drugs in Q-Heads. She takes him to an aisle full of towels and cloths and as she bundles packets of baby wipes into his arms she explains that when she feels far too miserable to shower she tries to at least use wipes so she can feel clean enough.

“It’s recurring,” she says, “and I don’t want you to turn up like that again feeling and looking horrible no more than you need to. You can call me if you need to, all people need is a good listener.” When they pay and leave the pharmacy she asks if he needs to be walked home.

It maybe takes five days until a terrified, guilty Neku sees the taunting glow of 1:09 blink as his unsteady hands try to select Shiki’s number. She answers just after the first ring dies out, her voice grave and worried as he recounts the nightmare again. “Get out of your pyjamas and put them in your hamper, get the towels from your drawer and try to get all your sweat off,” she coaches Neku.

He finishes drying his legs when the regret becomes too heavy to handle, pricking at his already swollen eyes. “I couldn’t save him.” he wrenches out from the fast-coming sobs.

“Who? Joshua?” Neku grunts through the phone to Shiki’s question, and she takes it as a yes. “But he’s still… alive, isn’t he? If he’s brought us all back…”

“So fucked up,” he says, to no-one in particular. “How do I tell the headshrinker I died? That I wish my killer would call back? That I spent a month in purgatory that he was god of and having to,”

“Isn’t there someone,” Shiki tries to suggest something, “not a headshrinker, who’d know about and could talk to you the Game?”

“I don’t know!” Neku’s voice cracks, reaches a shaky sobby screech. “Saw Mr. H when I died standing and smiling right there with Joshua but WildKat never opens.”

“WildKat?”

“His café! Need t’make lockpicks if I want answers, I,” he swallows in a shaky, hitched breath and only then realises how frantic his voice was and he almost deflates. “M’sorry, Shiki.”

“Sorry for what?”

“You… you don’t know this and I’m forcing you to listen when you were only there for--”

Shiki takes a deep breath on the other end. “We can have a do-over tomorrow, it’s only one now. I’m here to listen to you even if it’s not about me, I was trying to say that with the headshrinker thing. Hey, are you finished cleaning?”

Neku opens his eyes after the line goes dead to see a perfect white feather lying across his chest, glittering in the (when did he fall back asleep?) morning light. He opens the window, shifts the weight in his knees, slings a feather as well as he can through the air resistance. His anger translates to a soft drop from his third floor to the ground, but he follows it up with his still-sore, throaty voice. “I want answers, not these fucking feathers!”

End notes: october 12th is the two year anniversary of twewy final remix's worldwide release and two year anniversary to permanently altering my brain chemistry over this stupid fucking dead teen simulator i hope this is good enough

[holyfuckthisfishcandrive]

Shots and Guilt

First, Previous(Chap. 23), Ao3

Word count: 3610

Warnings: Gun, Blood and Injury, (kinda) Torture, Knives, Bloodlust, Smoking, Underage Drinking, Drinking and Driving, Gore, Skipping a Meal, Alcohol (even more of it), Guilt, Choking, Mention of Past Murder, Panic Attack, Self Harm

This really isn't a nice chapter. If anyone needs it I can make a summary of it. Just leave a comment or send me an ask if that's the case. Stay safe.

Virgil listened to the sound of the rain pattering against the car and the radio woman report what had happened in Aunt Lian's block earlier this night.

Glitch monsters.

He dug around the glove compartment until he found Uncle Remy's cigarettes, hidden under the ammunition, lit one and took a drag. He watched the smoke curl and opened the window just by an inch to release it into the night.

Destroyed street lights.

He glanced at the Seven11 Remy had disappeared in about half an hour ago and lit his lighter again, watching the tiny flame dance in the stale light of the car lamp.

Messed up electronics.

A shadowy figure stood next to his window and Virgil glanced over at them. They were holding a knife. Good for them.

"Fuck off," Virgil mumbled tiredly and took another drag.

"Open the car door if you know what's good for you, kid," the guy demanded.

Virgil couldn't help but chuckle at that. He took his feet off the headboard and sat up slowly.

"If I know what's good for myself? If you know what's good for yourself you're going to fucking piss off now!"

"Kid-!" he thrust the knife at the window gap and Virgil kicked open the door hitting them square on the chest. They stumbled back and growled. "I'm going to fucking kill you, brat!"

Vigil stepped out of the car, taking the butterfly knife and the colt from the glove compartment with him.

"No, you're not," he stepped on his cigarette to put it out.

The robber was big. About twice as tall and five times as wide as Virgil, all muscles and heavy bones.

But at the sight of the gun, he froze. An uneasy smile took the place of the angry grimace.

They were in a lonely and dark parking lot. Nobody would look out of the window if they heard a gunshot or scream.

"Kid, don't do anything you're gonna regret. I'm part of the Trulow family. They're gonna hunt you down if you shoot me. No ones gonna find you're body! I bet yer mother's gonna get worried sick if her kid doesn't come home!"

Again Virgil laughed humourlessly.

The rain was cold on his skin and his hair stuck to his face and neck but he couldn't care less. There was that feeling in his chest again that he knew Papa knew well, even if he never wanted to talk about it, the feeling he couldn't imagine living without even after being told a thousand times that it wasn't normal, that he wasn't supposed to talk about with people outside of the family. That intoxicating feeling - better than any liquor, pills or joint but no less dangerous. "It's what makes our kind what we are," Uncle Emile had once said. The man across from him knew it too. Virgil could tell. Otherwise, he wouldn't flinch back. Wouldn't be able to see it in Virgil's smile and his every movement like a bloody red threat.

The bloodlust felt like a promise in his lungs.

"Jokes on you," he slowly walked towards the man. "My mothers dead. And if you're really a Trulow, how come I've never seen you on the Christmas card? I'm sure I'd remember a face as ugly as yours."

"What-?" the man stumbled backwards.

"If you want to make it in this city you really ought to learn who to threaten and who's out of your league. You're just another sewer rat. I'm like a motherfucking prince to you."

The man fell back on his ass, crawling backwards.

"Run along now, rat. Wouldn't want mommy to worry, would we?"

The man scrambled to his feet and turned to run.

Virgil raised the gun, aimed and fired.

A scream cut through the air as the man crashed into the concrete.

He sobbed and whimpered, staring at the blood sprayed over the ground as if he couldn't believe it was his. As if the realisation that there was now a hole where his foot connected to his leg hadn't quite made its way into his thick head yet.

"Sorry," Virgil said as he got closer and knelt down next to him. "Couldn't resist. You better not tell my Pa about this."

He dug his hand into the wound until his fingers found the bullet, ignoring the pained screams.

"He hates when I use guns. Which I honestly don't get. I mean, he uses them all the time! Bloody double standards," he inspected the bloody bullet in his hand.

"Who- Who the fuck are you?" the man sobbed.

Virgil grinned. "Have you ever heard those rumours? About Professor Logic having a child?"

The man's eyes widened in terror.

Virgil heard the doors of the Seven11 slide open and stood up.

Remy raised an eyebrow as he got closer.

"Jesus, can't I leave you alone for five minutes?" he asked.

"That was half an hour. And he started it. He wanted to rob the car or something. I only used one bullet if that's what you're worried about," Virgil tossed the gun over to him and Remy caught it in his free hand.

"Whatever. Just get in the car, hon. I got slushies and alcohol. We can stop at Crispy Creme if you want to."

"Sure," Virgil picked up the knife the would-be robber had dropped and jogged back to the car. "I hope they have warm doughnuts."

"They better. Oh, and there should be some baby wipes in the glove compartment. I'm not letting you eat with that guy's blood on your hands. Who knows what's been in that-? Wait, did you steal one of my cigs?"

"...No," Virgil claimed and was suddenly very interested in cleaning every crevice of his hand.

"Don't fucking lie to me. Just don't smoke in the car next time and ask before you take one. Emile doesn't like when the car smells," Remy handed him one of the slushies.

"Sorry," Virgil took a long sip until the pain of bain freeze bloomed behind his forehead before digging around in Remy's bag until he found the alcohol..

"Pour me some in too, would ya?"

"Sure," Virgil unscrewed the cap and poured some in his own then a bit more in Remy's cup. "More or is this good?"

Remy glanced over at him.

"Who the fuck do you think I am?"

"More it is."

"Exactly."

"I swear you're that "Two shots of vodka" vine," Virgil shook his head.

Remy chuckled. "I take zero offence to that. Also, I gotta make sure you don't drink too much. You have school tomorrow."

"You're literally drinking and driving. And I'm going to school trollied tomorrow whether you like it or not."

"I think this is why your father hates me."

"He doesn't hate you. He can't. You and Uncle Emile are like his only friends."

"Doesn't he also have that flower boy?" Remy pulled into the Crispy Creme's parking lot.

"That's his boyfriend," Virgil corrected and took another sip. Slowly he felt the alcohol kick in.

"You mean your new father, then?"

"I guess. Not officially yet but hopefully soon. He's nice. On the other hand, if he moves in I'll have to hide my skull collection."

Virgil followed Remy out of the car and into the shop.

The sugary sweet smell of warm doughnuts filled the air.

Remy bought a box, tipped a twenty and pulled Virgil back out with him.

"I'm not letting you drink any more," he decided. "You're not going to school drunk, kid."

"Yes, I am. Fuck off and give me a doughnut."

"Either you stop drinking or you don't get any doughnuts."

Virgil glared at him and took a doughnut.

"Fine."

---

He still had a headache when he went to math class later.

He wasn't sure if it was just the hungover or also something else.

Not that it mattered. He had already learned the shit, the man, whose name he couldn't remember, was explaining incredibly badly at the blackboard.

Instead of paying attention he stared blankly out of the window.

Slowly the sleep deprivation was also starting to catch up with him, making his eyes heavy.

Janus had texted him that they wouldn't be coming to school for the day, which made it even more dull than usual.

He should have stayed drunk.

Then it at least would've been somewhat interesting.

Virgil woke up again to the sound of the school bell. He blinked a few times, trying to reorient himself and sighed.

At least math was over.

His next lesson was English, then Chemistry.

Or maybe he should just skip.

It wouldn't make a difference.

Maybe he could find a nice spot for the graffiti design he'd come up with based on the last body he'd found in the sewers.

The rats had eaten the fuckers stomach out and Virgil had set the eyebrows or rather what had been left of the eyebrows, on fire before taking a few pictures for reference.

He'd just have to come up with something for when Janus asked where he'd gotten the idea.

Virgil left the classroom and ducked into the nearest bathroom, locking the stall door behind himself before climbing out of the window. He wondered briefly how long it'd stay locked before someone noticed that it wasn't occupied at all. Probably at least until the toilets were cleaned. Whenever that'd be.

A sports teacher was preparing a lesson by the tracks but she was too focused on the task at hand to notice Virgil sneak to the fence and climb over it. He gave the school a middle finger over his shoulder as he walked away. For all he cared, every single person in there could go fuck themselves. Especially the principal.

Papa was working - at the university today - so Virgil went home to drop off his backpack and picked up his graffiti bag, headphones and the sketchbook he'd drawn the design in..

He strolled through the streets of downtown, avoided a few coppers and took an underground to take him wherever. As long as there were big empty walls there he didn't care.

He got out at the sixth stop.

Virgil didn't make a habit of spending time uptown.

Occasionally maybe, for family celebrations or when he and Janus planned heists but other than that he stayed in the part of town he had been raised in.

But that didn't mean that he didn't know the streets and alleyways, the shops, public buildings and skyscrapers made of glass, like towers out of a fairy tale. Papa was of the firm opinion that knowledge was power and he'd made sure that Virgil knew everything he needed about Woethough.

It didn't take him long to find a good wall.

The back of the main police station was just painfully boring.

Virgil pulled the half mask he used for vigilante business over his face, partly to avoid someone seeing his face and partly because of the fumes. Then he opened the sketch book and pulled two spray cans out of his bag, shaking them.

This'd be fun.

He worked far slower than usual, the anxiety over being spotted by the damned pigs making him pack up the cans he wasn't using immediately, so he'd be able to make a quick escape, and check for witnesses every five minutes.

By some miracle no one came by. For a while, he had the insistent feeling of being watched but couldn't find anyone.

He watched the flames, body and rats take shape with every colour he added until he got to the point where more would only make it worse.

Virgil took a few steps back and grinned. He signed it with his usual spider and took a photo to send Janus. They weren't online so he didn't bother waiting for a reply and packed up his stuff.

It was around noon now and he was getting hungry but ignored the feeling. He could eat later.

Instead he walked around some more, pickpocketed a businessman he recognized from TV - Mr Grimm or something like that - and bought a few new markers from the stolen money, before climbing onto the roof of a library to test them out.

At eight he took a train back to downtown.

It was already dark thanks to autumn finally taking over properly and most other teens were probably either suicidal, gang members or at home.

This was the beauty of the city.

As soon as the sun went down the few laws that were actually followed became meaningless.

Now the city belonged to the street rats and the lawless. They were all animals. From the racoons and possums, over the henchmen and thieves up to the mafia and his family.

All animals.

Hungry for blood.

Greedy and destructive.

Virgil absolutely loved it.

He passed a few of Uncle Jeremy's men beating up a cop with a crowbar in an alleyway, greeting him as he passed, watched a woman smash a chair over the head some guy who had tried to grope her, dishevelled and angry, and grinned at the raven and racoon, which were fighting viciously over some small animal one of them had killed.

There was a light burning in the living room when he got home. Not the ceiling light - it was far too muted for that.

He unlocked the front door and shut it behind himself. It was warm in here.

"I'm home!" he called, taking off his shoes and jacket.

No reply.

"Papa?"

Still no reply.

Virgil frowned, waiting for a moment longer and went into the living room.

Papa was slumped on the couch, fingers tracing an empty glass. Next to it on the table was an empty bottle of whiskey, that Virgil knew had been more than half full just this morning. He'd opened it after all.

Slowly Papa looked up as if only noticing him standing in the doorway now.

"...V'gil," he slurred.

"How much did you drink?" Virgil asked with a frown. He couldn't remember ever having seen Papa drunk.

He blinked at the bottle and gestured vaguely with one hand. "J'st a little."

Virgil sighed.

"Well, you clearly had enough. You're fucking trollied. Let's get you to bed, shall we? You'll hate yourself for this tomorrow, you know?"

"Already do," Papa mumbled as Virgil put his arm over his shoulder to support him.

Papa leaned on him heavily and Virgil staggered under the weight slightly but managed to bring him to the stairs, where Papa could also hold onto the bannister, taking some of the weight of his shoulders.

"You look so much like your mother," Papa suddenly said, just as they reached the second floor and Virgil almost let him fall in surprise.

Papa didn't talk about her.

He never did.

"She had her hair like that for a while too," Papa continued. "Then she grew it out longer. She looked so beautiful. Like an angel."

Virgil kicked open the door to Papa's room.

He didn't say anything, almost forgetting how to breathe. Papa was actually talking about her.

Carefully Virgil let him slide onto the bed and ducked to take off his shoes.

"I didn't mean to kill her," Papa said, anguish in his voice as he began combing through Virgil's hair with one hand. "I really didn't. I  just- I just wanted to scare her."

His hand slid over Virgil's cheek slowly and even though Papa was looking at him Virgil had the feeling that he wasn't seeing him.

No.

Papa was seeing her.

"I didn't think it'd be that fragile," Papa's hand slid down further and settled on Virgil's neck. A jolt of panic shot through him. "I didn't think it'd break that easily."

Papa began to squeeze.

"I just grabbed her and pressed down."

His grip began to hurt and Virgil tried to gasp for breath, clawing at the hand on his throat.

"And then she was dead. Just like that."

Blackspots appeared in Virgil's vision and he swung out wildly.

His fist hit Papa on the temple and he collapsed onto the bed.

Virgil gasped and coughed, stumbling back towards the door and slammed it as soon as he was on the hallway.

He still couldn't breathe.

Why the fuck couldn't he breathe?!

His vision swam, from tears this time instead of lack of oxygen.

Was this how she had felt?

In her last moments, getting choked by the man she had loved and trusted?

He didn't want this. This panic in his chest keeping him from breathing and making the world around him blur. At least not because of Papa. Not him. Never because of Papa. Papa was supposed to be safe. Papa protected him. Papa helped him calm down.

Papa had just tried to kill him.

Virgil sobbed.

Papa had tried to kill him the same way he'd killed her.

Virgil barely remembered to grab his jacket as he ran out, slamming the front door and running down the dark street.

He stopped at the North Bridge and collapsed against the railing.

The air was now so cold it almost burned in his lungs as he finally managed to take a breath. His throat hurt. He carefully wrapped his hand around it. It'd bruise.

 "You look so much like your mother."

Virgil stumbled on through the streets. His reflection in a dark shop window caught his attention and made him stop.

His cheeks were streaked with black.  His eyes were covered almost completely by messy black hair.

So she had had shoulder-long hair at one point.

Virgil grabbed a hand full of hair and pulled at it until a few strands ripped off.

He stared down at them.

He didn't want Papa to see her in his place.

The lights of another store, also reflecting in the shop window he was standing in front of caught his attention.

Did they have bleach there?

He crossed the street.

The shop was empty and Virgil was barely aware of the song playing over the speakers, so quiet that it was drowned out by his mind.

He grabbed two cartons.

Bleach and the first hair dye his hand touched. He didn't care. He had no idea what colour her hair had been. He just didn't want black.

He didn't bother to wait for his change as he handed the cashier a twenty and fled the store.

Back at home, Virgil locked himself in the bathroom and ripped open the bleach carton, barely skimming the instructions.

The chemical smell filled the room as he spread it over his hair and when he was done he had to open a window to breathe.

He set a timer on his phone and busied himself with washing off his make up while he let it set.

Once he was done with that he began pulling at the skin of his arms and digging his nails into the scars to keep his thoughts from spiralling again.

The timer went off and he rinsed his hair out.

It was almost white now.

He ripped open the secong carton.

Purple.

For fucks sake.

He spread it over his hair, careful to get it everywhere.

If he was going to look stupid he might as well make sure it wasn't splotchy.

He wasn't hungry anymore but he still went into the kitchen and warmed up some soup, forcing himself to eat, despite the gag reflex that kicked in a few times.

Then he washed his hair again.

He didn't bother looking at the result before he grabbed the razor and scissors. Once he was done he pulled on a turtle neck to hide the forming bruise, poured a glass of water and grabbed an aspirin.

For a few minutes he stood in front of Papa's door, frozen until he managed to go in, put both items on the nightstand and immediately flee again.

Then he once again grabbed his jacket and left, locking the door behind himself.

He wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. At least not if he stayed here.

---

A knock on the window snapped Janus out of the half-asleep half-awake state they'd been in for hours.

Slowly they stood up, the floor cold against their bare feet, and frowned at the figure in the window.

They grabbed a glass water bottle as a weapon and cautiously opened it.

The figure slid inside.

"Virgil?" Janus frowned and set down the bottle. "The fuck are you doing here?!"

"You owe me," Virgil rasped. "Five nights. From that bet."

Janus blinked, their brain catching up slowly.

"The one we made for my parent's wedding?"

Virgil nodded.

He was upset. Even in the dark Janus could tell.

They closed the window, cutting off the cold draft, and Virgil took off his shoes.

For a moment they contemplated what to say.

They were sure that something had happened.

They just didn't know what.

"I won't ask," they finally said, "but if you want to talk... I'm here for you, okay?"

Virgil nodded.

"Thanks."

He didn't say anything else. His voice was hoarse.

Janus led him over to their bed and climbed in, letting him follow.

He'd cut his hair.

It also looked lighter than usual, though they couldn't be sure in the bad lighting.

Janus had almost fallen asleep again when they hear a muffled sob.

They looked over at Virgil again.

He was crying.

So something bad had happened.

For a moment they hesitated before they wrapped their arms around Virgil and pulled him against their chest.

"It'll be okay," they promised.

Virgil just latched onto them and buried his face in their shirt.

Next

Taglist:

@patton-cake , @isabelle-stars

[hit-me-with-a-ladle]

Ch.10 of Creepypasta x Fem! Reader

Before even realising, the week had ended once more, perpetuating the endless cycle experienced day after day. Though not as severe as the previous, it was still very tiring in its own way. As the first day passed, Ben wanted to perceive her potential, making her brew something after every lesson and making sure the notes taken were comprehensive and correct. But what he failed to inform her was that the slightest miscalculation could end up in an explosion. The combining of two opposing substances ended up in a chain reaction that gave the girl burns and potential scars, their severity somewhat dulled by the elixir Ben would create after, but still very painful.

That week was strange, as Ben was inept at any social interaction. Struggling with reading the room and understanding others thoughts and feelings. Though he hated silence and many-a-time attempted to end it with a random ramble about a certain topic that would last hours at a time, tiering the poor girl forced to listen. His tendency for not understanding physical boundaries had begun to become a problem too, invading the girl's personal space at very unwanted times and always flashing that creepy smile whenever he saw her, making her tense up.

Though the perpetual cycle had begun to have a toll on her. Her body was on autopilot most of the day. Walking around and doing the same things as a robot. And the last day of the week hadn't been any different. She'd fallen asleep the previous night at exactly ten pm after launch and woke up the morning at around five-fifty six am, before her alarm. Getting up taking a shower, bandaging her wounds, getting dressed, and heading towards the stairs for a nutritious breakfast before she'd have to meet the new person sent there to train her. Toby had presumed.

Right as she was about to take her first step down the narrow wooden staircase she stopped in her tracks, looking back towards her bedroom door. Stepping back she walked towards it and walked in, looking around quickly before spotting the thing she was looking for. The necklace Ben gave her, she took it off the previous night and forgot to put it on. Quickly snatching it and clasping it around her neck and putting it under her jumpsuit she hurriedly ran downstairs, not wanting to be off schedule. She wasn't sure why she'd gone back to grab it, but something was telling her that it was special.

Looking at the clock she sighed, twenty minutes left before her training starts. Her thoughts were in shambles as she imagined what the new man was going to be like. A sadistic narcissist like Jack? An aggressive control freak like Masky? Or maybe, a blabbering creep like Ben? She wasn't ready to find out. But it was inevitable, no matter how much she wished she could leave, to get an end to this madness. But she didn't have to wonder for long as she heard light footsteps on the hard floor approaching her. Usually, she wouldn't have noticed something as minute as that but recently her senses have heightened significantly with the constant rushes of adrenaline her body had been going through to stay alive.

Gazing in its direction she finally saw the man, he looked to be around twenties years of age. He was of average height, around five-foot-seven or about hundred-and-seventy-three meters, a bit bigger than Ben. His mouth, covered with a black striped mask and a pair of orange-tinted goggles over his eyes. Bushy dark brown hair peeking out from the blue hood of his stained zip-up. The only feature visible was his pale almost grey skin that seemed cold as ice. Below the waist, he had two old hatchets harnessed on either side of his long baggy jeans, with his gloved hands firmly gripping both whiles staring at the girl. As he stood he would occasionally jerk or twitch to the side without warning. She gazed at him, confused by the sudden motions of his body.

Suddenly the man coughed, grabbing her attention and snapping her out of the daze that she was in. Shaking her head and apologizing immediately. He approached, now right in front of her.

" He-llo. I'm To-toby."

He stuttered as he stretched out his right hand at her. Swiftly grabbing his hand to shake it. The leather that collided with her skin was worn out and patchy.

" Hi." She retorted, trying to pull her hand away but he would let do. She could feel his flesh twitch underneath his thick glove. " So when are we going to begin training?"

She awkwardly addressed trying to soften the ever-growing tension. The man only nodded his head and softly huffed, finally letting go.

Glancing behind her shoulder, staring at the back door with a blank stare he pushed her aside and walked towards it. She was perplexed by him, not expecting such an act as a frown formed on her face. 'Who does he think he is? He didn't even answer my question. Jerk.' She thought, her eyebrows scrunching in irritation while going back to making herself breakfast.

"I'll wait for you to fin-finish outside. Be quic-k."

He said quietly as he stepped outside.

Sighing dramatically she began to eat, starting at the clock on the wall, counting down the seconds with dread. Eating had become a choir, her mouth always feeling dry. The food itself was bland too, devoid of odour and taste made the texture unbearable at times. But she didn't have much of a choice. It sometimes felt like eating sandpaper but she couldn't complain as it would only stir up a problem. Most of the food was meant to strengthen her body and make her more durable. Forcing down the last bite she got up but the dishes in the sink and went towards the back door with a black expression on her face.

Opening it up it made a loud creak, annoying the girl as she slammed it behind her, searching for the googled man. She assumed that he was in the armoured area of the forest. Remembering passing it while doing Maskys test, grumbling at the memory. Picking up her speed and running towards it she got there in about ten minutes. Abruptly stopping when she saw the back of his head, a sense of accomplishment washing over her when she realised that her judgment was right. As she was about to inform him of her arrival he swiftly turned around. His orange stained goggles reflect the sun's rays making them shine.

" Si-since you arrived, w-we should begin." He softly said as he reached for his hatchet and pointed to the middle of the small clearing. It was perfect for close-range combat, especially if what they were using were close-range weapons. It was specifically designed for the people training in them to be wary of their surroundings and to focus their movements. Small bumps and rocks were scattered to make it more of a challenge. Battered practise dummies were also present on the sides, some had throwing stars and objects logged on their body. A small shed was tucked in between two trees, made to store some of the weapons they practise with.

As he stood in the middle Toby walked up to the shed, shoving his hand in his pocket searching for something, suddenly pulling out a set of rusty keys and looking for the one that matched the shed's lock. Going inside he searched for something, the girl wasn't sure what as she wasn't able to even see him. After a minute, he finally walked out holding something in his hand. Approaching her he extended his gloved hand letting her see it, a small hunting knife. The blade sharpened to perfection as the thick mettle it was made out of shine in the light, encased in a large worn wooden handle, finger-like dents could be seen from previous use.

Taking it in her hands it fits almost perfectly, holding firmly she studied the mettle further. Just like Maskys pocket watch, there was a crossed-out circle on it; her face was now showed intrigue by the particular design.

" The b-blade you're hol-ding in your hand is o-one of the most impor-tant things you need to sur-survive. Not only is it used fo-for self-defence it's also used for ever-everyday tasks. For ex-example, cutting down vines and or carving th-ings into wooden sur-surfaces."

As he spoke he would occasionally twitch and jerk but he didn't seem distracted by it, already used to the constant random unwanted motions his body made.

The girl nodded her head, thoroughly listening to his every word said, she'd come to terms that if she expected to escape she had to use everything that they thought her to good use. Toby had started to show her different techniques of cutting and use of the knife, explaining the proper stance and movements. But the girl seemed to struggle, shuffling her feet trying to get the stance right. Toby rolled his eyes and went behind her, starting to fix her mistakes and instructing her while doing so. The girl could faintly feel his uneven breaths on her neck. He was noticeably rough with the way he grabbed her hands, fixing them in place. When he was satisfied he let go and went to the side to watch her work.

The silver blade shined as the light hit its clear surface, the girl quickly jabbing and slashing the tree she was told to work on, creating noticeable scratches as she did. At first, her movements were quite slow and sloppy, not being able to get the hang of the small weapon, but eventually, she got the hang of it, quickly gliding around the tree with pretty much no effort and slashing it with remarkable precision. Toby watched her every step, pleased by her sudden improvement.

"I th-think that should b-be enough." He said loudly, disturbing the girl from her trance. Making her quickly straighten up and look at him.

" I-i think yo-you learned the bas-basic, now le-lets see how you will do it hand-to-hand."

The girl nodded, approaching him without saying a word, blade in hand ready to use. Toby also didn't bother to say a word, only pulling out one of his hatchets and getting into a fighting stance, she quickly followed. Neither of them tried to attack at first, only scanning their opponent, anticipating their every move. A cold sweat started to form on the girl's back as panic slowly arose in her mind, the tension was unbearable, and she feared that it showed on her face, but even still she had to muster up the courage and finally strike first.

She leapt at the googled boy, attempting to slash him with her blade but he avoided it in the nick of time. He was quick to react as he soon tried to sweep her off her feet but she blocked his blow and sprang a bit away creating a small distance. He was the one to attack next, facking a strike with his hatchet to her head, quickly using his other hand to punch her in the jaw, making her stumble and slip. Going to her lever and attempting to strike her again, she was quick to block, using all the possible strength she had in her arms to protect herself. She managed to somehow push him off as she quickly tried to get up, but made one fatal mistake by averting her gaze from his, giving him the Milly-second of a chance to slash her upper thigh.

Screaming in agony she fell to her knees, quickly feeling her weight turned on her back and crashed on the ground, the impact causing the necklace around her neck to come out from the jumpsuit, catching Toby's attention. The bottle shined in the light and wasn't hard to spot, he approached her aching for, carefully kneeling to her lever. Her face was in a mix of emotions, ready to defend herself again at any moment, but as he extended his gloved hands what she didn't expect was for him to reach for the necklace.

He held the small thing in his hands, twisting it around to get a better look at what was contained inside of it.

"A-a protection ch-charm." He murmured, but the girl still managed to somewhat hear it.

Her face showed a mixture of confusion and distress. Moments ago he was trying to slice her throat and how she was softly gripping her necklace, not saying another word.

They stayed in that position for a few minutes, the tension in the air occasionally being broken by the googled man ticks.

" Did Ben gi-give you this?" He asked sternly, twisting the tiny bottle between his thumb and pointer finger as he held it in front of her face.

" Yeah" She only said, averting from his gaze. He scoffed harshly letting go of it and firmly standing up, taking a few steps away from her.

Shooting pain ran up her leg to her back as she tried to stand, quickly holding the wound on the back of her thigh, adding as much pressure as she could so the blood would stop pouring out. Toby did say a word only looking in her direction. The girl's thoughts were racing, anger and fear swirling all in the bat of rage. She has enough of this, recollecting her strength slowly she took a long breath in, subtly looking in her peripherals to spot where Toby was standing. And the moment she felt the adrenaline kick in like all those times before she leapt.

The pain didn't concern her anymore; she only wanted him to feel the same she felt. Tackling his feet, he let out a low yelp as he fell on his lower back, she then quickly acted by pulling out the second hatched holstered to his person and putting it to his neck. Heavy jagged breaths escaped her chapped lips as she stared at him with a wide eyes gaze, sweat coming out of every pour.

Shaking uncontrollably while firmly holding the hatchet to his neck. She whispered, "I win."

[marcsundar]

Black Cat Husband

On a day when all was well in the world, John Harris moved his right arm on the breakfast table to fetch the honey when he accidentally elbowed the bottle of milk which fell from the table and on to the floor. This was where it all came down and John snapped.

Previously in John's life he was working a job - a job where he was not moving fast enough. Since university he had worked 10 years but quite blatantly fucked around for about 7 of them. He started off in a junior position and then got the right promotion which would have seen him fast track to the big time in management consultancy. However, he was young and realised that there was more to life than money. So he quit, got a part time job behind the counter in a bookies, lived with his mum and simply took it easy for the next six years.

He tried various hobbies like building his own computer from components bought from online retailers and computer fayres. John built up a large DVD collection and had a decent home cinema set up in his room. Sometimes he spent so much time there his mother got frustrated. But she was glad he was around.

He spent weekends going out with mates; drinking a lot, pulling (he’d call) ‘loose’ women and then recovering the following day. At work he had no intention of moving up the corporate ladder from sales advisor to one day a manager. He just worked to get some money to fuck around with. Money spent on DVDs, beer and occasional hotel rooms.

Then he met Millie. At a club no less but she was zestful and enjoyed herself. She was different to the other women he met in clubs and bars - they were all made up and simply wanted to fuck their lives away like John did. Millie on the other hand seemed to respect herself - she laughed vociferously and smiled a freckled smile which made John reconsider where he was.

They got together and went out a bit. They went for walks in Gunnersbury park - a park behind the office where Millie worked as a personal assistant for a corporate CEO. They became intimate with each other at a Travelodge hotel near Holborn in the London Euston area. They continued to see each other for about a year before John proposed. It was a spare of the moment proposal - there was no ring. The two were walking in Richmond park when they got to the brow of a hill which overlooked London. A magnificent setting for a grand gesture.

Millie wasn't the kind of girl who wanted a big wedding, so three months later they were wed in a civil ceremony at Bracknell town hall. They had an evening reception where everyone was invited but the ceremony was for close friends and family.

No sooner were they married, John started to look for positions in management consultancy, he tried to pick up where he left off, however, none of the big companies wanted to give him that opportunity - even his previous employer. So he started out, back at the bottom for another firm. He was managed by people younger than himself, he was doing the projects he had invested himself, mind and body energy almost ten years previous. The frustration grew.

A few months into his new determination to be a providing husband, his mother passed away. John was left cold and shunted. The death of a primary caregiver is at least up there in the top 3 things that will fuck up one's mind. John felt, at the time that he could not afford to let the emotional spill get in the way of being the amazing husband he perceived he was and knew that he would never give up on being better at it. He bottled away the grief to carry on driving his career.

From where this tale started off, yesterday, John received some news which put him back. Two others who started with him were promoted to the level John achieved at the beginning of his career. John did not receive this promotion. His abilities were best laid in another path and if he wanted the same progress he would have to wait another year, continue growth doing the same things for another year. John calculated that he missed a crucial module of his career development attending to his mothers' funeral and minor estate arrears. He had already completed the module almost ten years ago but that didn't count. He was on the brink of self destruction.

Today, he spilt some milk. This led him over the edge. All the raw pent up frustration. All the bottled up grief. All the regrets of not having continued whilst young - wasting his youth and time. All the memories of his mother; the one person, who when he was fucking up; never turned her back on him; providing him with shelter to do his own thing, to help him see that he was fucking up, but not in a bad way, letting him realise that he needed to grow up. The woman who was happiest of all when he impromptu, married the woman of his dreams.

It all got so manifested within him in a cosmic-emotional response to the milk bottle smashing on the floor that he changed. All of a sudden. Pow! Just like that - phantoosh and finished. Cloud of smoke and all… in the split second he heard and looked to the milk crash… he became what he associated with the moment. Feline. Yes reader; he turned into a cat.

What can I say? I'm not making this up! John turned into a cat at the point where his mind could not cope with his body. When I say turned into, perhaps it is more projection in an astral way. His mind, spirit or soul, what have you, leapt from his body and found the last association in his brain. Cats drink milk, they knock over bottles.

So John found himself on the street in the body of a cat. Once he realised what was happening, he was in time to witness a very familiar car rattle passed at a fair speed. It was his car. His joint owned car with Millie. Millie was on her way to work.

John felt the rage. He felt the disgrace of life. He saw what he needed to do. End it. If he was finished, Millie could get on with everything. Find less of a loser and less of a bottler of emotions. A real man… not a cat.

John the cat darted a pedestrian short cut he knew of the area to get to the road which Millie would likely drive down in the Fiat Punto. He knew which car to hide under. He found a perfect view of the road approach and where Millie would come in from. He saw her drive down and waited, he was far too pent up to deliver correct timing but knew it was likely she would squash him flat! He ran out and stopped in front of her left front wheel. He looked into her eyes. He saw passed the panic. He saw passed the edging guilt. He saw passed the fright. He saw passed the logical reaction systems being put into use by Millie slamming the breaks.

He saw passed it all and saw love. He saw the love. He saw that through all the troubles he was having, he forgot that Millie loved him. He had forgotten who helped him when he couldn’t help himself when his mother died. He forgot who had got him to quit the idiocy of the life he was living to regain the right path. He had forgotten who he was doing it all for. He had forgotten one emotion which balanced the grief, loss, frustration, anger and depression. Love.

In that moment he was back. Back slouched on the kitchen table, hazy and with some spilt milk to clean up. Not to mention shards of glass. His mobile phone rattled the table. He received a text message from his wife… 

Nooooo! Nearly ran over a black cat :(