#dee fails at past tense

[southslates]

hey i looove your writing!! <3 if you dont have too many requests i had an idea-- i noticed that there was a missing scene in tsr, between aang's "lecture" where he tried to stop her from going and when he caught the going anyway (it switched from day to night)... mayhaps there was a converastion in between ? 👀

"What's for dinner?"

"I don't know what's for dinner." Katara bit her lip, attempting to stay calm--none of this was Toph's fault, and they all needed to eat. "We'll figure it out, though."

The sun was leaving the horizon, and the advent of the moon usually made her blood sing a little; today it didn't make much of a difference. She had been seething at the edges since the night prior, after Zuko had told her that he knew of her mother's killer.

She knew she was a good person, but she also knew that she was not Aang. And his words from earlier still reverberated through her mind--his phrasing, his insistence that she must forgive the man who tore her apart and made her an adult all too soon. She wanted to understand where Aang was coming from, but she simply couldn't.

Aang was good, and pacifist, but sometimes she forgot that he was just a child. He had suffered, but this was different. She did not think she could forgive the Fire Nation man whose eyes still burned in her mind.

"I'll help," someone whispered, and she turned to the side to see another Fire Nation man. Zuko rubbed his neck awkwardly, standing still for a moment as if to judge her reaction at his nearness. When she didn't move, he leaned down and picked up one of the bowls to her left.

Katara's gaze stayed stuck on him for several moments, more out of judgment than distrust, before she grabbed a pot and stalked to the center clearing, where he'd set up a fire. "Get out the rice," she mumbled.

Zuko complied, and they both assembled a small dinner together in silence. They didn't have meat tonight because Katara wanted to preserve their jerky and eat their varied salvaged produce from the Western Air Temple first. Sokka would complain, but she was too angry at him to care about that. When everything was set in and Zuko moved to keep the pot boiling, concentrating intently on the flames, she stepped back and simply stared at the back of his head.

Then he whispered lowly. "He's wrong, you know."

"Aang thinks he's doing what's best--"

"Not his opinion," Zuko followed up. "I can believe that's something he'd believe. But the way he acted as though he knew what was best for you--that's wrong."

She raised her voice as if to protest, but quieted when she realized that Zuko wasn't arguing against her like the younger children and even Sokka often did. He didn’t often undermine her. "Oh."

"I'm not going to betray you again, Katara."

She stayed quiet as he maintained the flames so that they stabilized and then stepped back. Sokka and Suki were likely in one of the tents, and Toph had taken Aang to the other side of this small island to practice bending. It was simply the two of them, and she was reminded terribly of the last time they had been like this, face to face.

Zuko read her face the moment she closed up, and he reached a hand out to her before letting it dangle awkwardly in midair. "I'm not," he continued. "I'm not turning my back on you. I will take you."

She didn't want to look at his face, so she faced the ground and stared at the steam rising from the pot. "You know why I can't trust you."

"I've been trying."

She couldn't deny that. "Yes," she said. "You have. You've changed."

"And?"

"And I still don't know if that's for better or worse," she lied to herself. "I'm really confused right now, Zuko."

"I'm sorry."

"You've hurt me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and his low tone sent a shiver down her spine. "I want to fix this."

He made her uncomfortable, and that didn't feel good--so she got up and moved back to their packs, leaving Zuko sitting there. They both stewed in the silence for minutes before Katara put a hand to her throat, where her mother's necklace rested.

"I think you can," she shuddered out. Zuko came up to her again, and she could see hope in his eyes, a belief which stirred her stomach in uncomfortable ways. "Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight," Katara repeated. "I'm starting to think you're more than a legacy, Zuko. Prove me wrong."

The cruel words bit at her lips, but she didn't want to dwell on them. She left him at the highland and went to go get Aang and Toph.

[ot7always]

Kneel.

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Established Relationship AU, smut (pwp)

Warnings: dom!Yoongi, sub!Reader, daddy kink, bondage, blindfolding, thigh-riding, gagging, hair-pulling, choking, degradation, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, spanking, pussy-slapping, crying, orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, forced orgasms, creampie, aftercare, probably too many pet names

Rating: 18+

Summary: You should have known better. It wasn’t your place to keep disobeying him, but you just kept insisting, didn’t you?  

A/N: I literally wrote this entire thing yesterday fuelled only by thirst and the need to prove to myself and my wife @wwilloww that I can in fact write an entire pwp in one night. I hope it incites the same feelings in you as it did to me when I was writing it fhlkdfghd

Also this is entirely a certain someone’s fault that this exists, you know who you are. 

Tagging: @moonmintrails @dee-ehn @ezralia-writes @thatlongspringnight​

Masterlist

--

“You look so pretty like this, daddy.”

The sight before you was enough to take anyone’s breath away. It was common knowledge that Min Yoongi was an attractive man, but you never expected for him become even more stunning. You never expected to see him like this – bound, blindfolded, all for you.

“Anything, daddy?�� you stared wide-eyed up into his face. Yes, he told you he would give you a special reward after hearing of your promotion. But this?

“Anything, princess.”

And so here you were, naked and straddling Yoongi’s clothed thigh, your sopping folds soiling the fabric. He was biting his lip so hard you were afraid he would draw blood, his head tossed back, bound hands behind the chair straining against the ropes. You made sure to avoid contact with the noticeable bulge in his pants as you grinded on him.

“Princess,” he panted, “I don’t even have to touch you and you’re already soaking through my pants?”

You moaned, tucking your face into the smooth skin of his neck and biting down softly. “Yes, daddy.” You muffled a whimper as he flexed the muscle of his thigh, the friction against your clit having you plaster yourself against him so you wouldn’t fall.

“You ask to tie me up and yet here you are, falling apart for me just like usual, huh?” he taunted, bouncing his leg enough that you whined. “Looks like a whore will always be a whore no matter what.”

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, speeding up the grinding of your hips on him, squeaking when he sped up his own motions in turn.

“No you’re not.”

“Please-”

“No. Slow down,” he ordered, going entirely still. When you only continued your actions, he growled.

“You think you’re safe just because you tied me up, hm? I would think twice if I were you,” he warned.

It was as if you didn’t hear him. You were chasing your own end, and he had no way to stop you. You let out a high-pitched whine right into his ears, the pleasure inside you rising and rising with each passing second.

You wouldn’t normally disobey him. The shiver that would pass through you at every utterance of “good girl” had you eating out of the palm of his hand. But all he had to stop you was his words, and the temptation to take what normally had to be given to you was too strong.

“Last chance, princess. I won’t let you off the hook so easily.”

You should have listened to him. You knew that. He agreed to this situation, but he didn’t agree to your disobedience. But his hands were bound, and you were certain you could make it up to him later.

Well – his hands were bound.

You squeaked in surprise when he stood up suddenly, his hands – his rope-free hands - gripping your wrists tightly.

“Kneel,” he snarled, baring his teeth as he pushed you away from him. You looked up at him in shock, your heart racing in your chest. Your knees dropped to the bedroom floor immediately, your eyes wide in anticipation. How did he get out?

He ripped the blindfold from his face, his hair wild, eyes frenzied as he locked them onto yours. When you saw the look he gave you – eyes narrowed, head tilted, slight smirk on his lips – you knew you were doomed.

“Don’t you dare look at me right now,” he barked, chuckling when your eyes immediately darted to his feet instead.

Maybe you could make this easier on yourself if you apologized. “Daddy, I-”

You were abruptly cut off when fabric was stuffed into your mouth, gagging slightly at the sudden intrusion. The blindfold.

“Daddy doesn’t want to hear you right now. He just wanted to make you feel good, but you just couldn’t listen, could you?”

At the lack of response, his ring-adorned hand darted out to squeeze lightly at your throat. Just a warning, for now. “Answer me.”

It was of course impossible to answer him properly with your mouth stuffed, but you knew he wanted to hear you anyway. The muffled “sorry, daddy” you hummed around the gag was unintelligible, but seemed to appease him as he removed himself from you.

You kept your gaze trained on the floor in front of you as he moved away from you, footsteps sounding from around the room before stopping behind you.

Your hands were wrenched behind your back, the same braided silk rope you used on him coming to tie your wrists together.

“You can’t tie ropes, you can’t follow instructions, so what can you do, princess?” he jeered, testing his knot. “Wiggle your fingers.”

After doing what he said, he pushed you forward until your face was pressed into the floor, your back arched as your drenched pussy was presented just for him.

You moaned and bucked your hips at the sensation of 3 fingers entering you fully without preparation, the cold metal of his rings inside you sending a delicious spike of pleasure up your spine.

“Even if you can’t do anything right, at least this warm, wet cunt will always be here waiting for me, right?”

You moaned your affirmation at his filthy words, your back arching even more to offer yourself to him fully.

“Look at you, you’re just asking to be fucked like the little whore you are.” He pulled his fingers out of you, messily wiping off your arousal onto the small of your back. You shivered at the sound of his pants unzipping, hearing the sound of his clothes hitting the floor somewhere on the other side of the room.

When he was fully undressed, he chuckled at the sight of you. Face pressed into the floor, back arched, ass up, legs spread – a meal just for him to devour.

He spanked you hard, grinning at the loud whine you gave in response. “You’re just gonna lay there and you’re gonna let daddy fuck you like the little slut you are. This hole is mine to fuck,” he growled, punctuating his statement with a hard spank to your pussy. “And daddy isn’t gonna stop unless you wiggle your fingers like before, do you understand?

You nodded furiously, a moan wrenched from you as his cock rougly rubbed through your wet folds. The breath was knocked out of you when he shoved himself into you harshly without further preparation, your walls immediately clenching tight around him.

He gave you no time to adjust, a brutal and rapid pace being set right away, your whines instant. The sudden stretch burned, but it burned so fucking good. He was merciless in his thrusting, the thought of Yoongi just using you to chase his own pleasure making your mind go blank.

Not long after, the slight pain and discomfort turned to mind-boggling pleasure, the flames of heat spreading throughout your entire body. He noticed the change immediately, your moans becoming more and more frequent, your muscles relaxing, your cunt clenching rhythmically around him.

“Yeah, you get off on being fucked like a filthy little whore, don’t you? You try to act so cute and innocent but your body tells me what a fucking slut you really are.”

You couldn’t help how quickly you became close to coming. You had already been just on the precipice earlier, and his rough treatment and vulgar words had you approaching again within minutes. Your walls spasmed wildly around him as you tipped closer and closer to the edge.

“I don’t think so,” he hummed, continuing his rough, deep thrusts. “Bad girls don’t get to cum.”

You made a loud noise of protest, his hips snapping against you, sending tears to your eyes as you tried to hold back your release.

“Cum and I stop,” he stated firmly, though he didn’t pause his own motions whatsoever. Almost as if he wanted you to fail.

You let out a sob at his mercilessness, every muscle tensing as you tried to keep yourself from getting lost to the pleasure. But when he changed the angle to brush against that spot inside you with every thrust, you couldn’t do it.

You bit down on the blindfold, crying out when the pleasure washed over you in waves, but your ecstasy was cut short when Yoongi pulled out from you right away. You groaned weakly at the loss of sensation, tears of dissatisfaction escaping as your body went limp.

You barely got a moment to breathe before a hand reached into your hair, harshly tugging your head up to look at him. You blinked rapidly, struggling to focus your gaze on him past the tears in your eyes.

His heart skipped a beat at the helpless, pleading expression decorating your tear-stained face, prepared to take whatever punishment he decided to give you. “Aw, princess,” he cooed, condescension lacing his tone. “Daddy makes you feel too good, huh?”

He smirked at the sight of you struggling to nod in his hold, your eyes hazy and distant. “But you know daddy has to punish you, right?” He felt a twinge of pride in his chest as you nodded again, eyes shuttering closed as you prepared yourself for what was to come.

He released his hold as he moved away from you, yanking your head back up and shoving a pillow beneath it when he returned. You hummed your thanks, trying your best to relax.

Despite the knowledge of what was to come, you jumped when the first blow landed to your ass, the pain harsher from his rings hitting you.

“Take 9 more like a good girl and I’ll give you exactly what you want, okay, princess?”

You let out a muffled “mhm,” broken off into a squeak when he quickly delivered another blow, the radiating warmth washing over you. A groan was forced out of you as he smacked the top of your left thigh, the pain there sharper, the sting more evident.

As much as the spanking hurt, there was just something about handing your body over for Yoongi to do as he wanted that made you feel safe. He wouldn’t ever do something you hadn’t already agreed on before, and he knew exactly where to draw the line.

Several blows rained down on you in quick succession, arousal rushing through you and sending new wetness to your cunt at. Your ass felt like it was on fire, every hit sending you further and further into your mind. It was as though nothing existed but you, Yoongi, and the pleasure-laced pain flooding your nervous system every time he brought his hand down. You whimpered with each strike, the sting only building and building.

You didn’t realize you were crying again until a hand stroked through your hair, the other hand wiping the wetness from your face.

“You took it so well, princess,” he said softly, brushing your hair back from your face. “Are you ready for more?”

You nodded without hesitation, the need to have him back inside you too strong.

“Good,” he grinned, pulling the blindfold out of your mouth and tossing it to the side. “Because I want to hear every little noise that comes from your mouth when I fuck this cunt senseless. I’ll make sure you won’t have enough brain cells to say a single word by the time I’m done with you.”

You didn’t have time to process his words before he shoved himself inside again, made easy by the amount of wetness that came from your spanking. You choked out a loud moan at the feeling of being so full, his cock dragging against your walls.

He groaned lowly at the feeling of your pussy gripping him tightly, clenching uncontrollably as he resumed the quick pace from earlier. “Your cunt just can’t ever get enough, can it? Daddy punishes you and all it can think about is getting cock.”

He snapped his hips into you harshly, hand winding into your hair to pull your face out of the pillow. The action sent a tingle down your spine, eyes fluttering shut.

“You should see yourself right now. For all your innocence, you’re just daddy’s cockslut at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

The hand in your hair moved down your body to rub savagely at your clit, the sudden pleasure making you mewl. The bud was still sensitive from your previous orgasm, the pleasure sending a rush of pain through you as well.

“Daddy, too much,” you whined, wiggling your hips as though you could get away from him.

“Oh?” he replied, only increasing the speed of his hand and the force of his thrusts. “You wanted to cum so badly before, didn’t you? Take it,” he snarled, angling his hips to hit you deeper, the onslaught of so much sensation setting your mind abuzz.

You could only lay open-mouthed, noises escaping you uncontrollably as the pleasure and pain took over your body, breaths quickening. Your second orgasm reared on you almost embarrassingly fast, high-pitched cries leaving you as your pussy clamped down on Yoongi’s cock. He hissed at the tightness, but kept up his pace, fucking you through the pleasure that blanked your mind, your eyes open but unseeing.

Even as you came down from your high, Yoongi’s motions didn’t cease, the pleasure ebbing through your veins very quickly turning to pain. The pressure against your clit sent you reeling, your knees nearly giving out beneath you. If not for the hand that reached out to steady you, you were certain you would have fallen.

The combination of Yoongi’s cock dragging against your oversensitive walls and his hand still working away at your clit was like torture, pain overwhelming your senses.

“Daddy, it hurts,” you sobbed, raising your head to look back at him.

His hand roughly shoved your head back into the pillow, laughing at your incoherent whines.

“You know how to make it stop if you feel like you can’t handle it. I already told you, you’re gonna take this cock, and you’re gonna be fucking thanking me by the time I’m done with you.”

You felt hot and feverish, the feeling of the pillow against your cheek grounding you in the moment. It felt almost as if you were floating as he continued his ministrations, groaning as he paused momentarily to grind his cock deeply inside you. The torment lit your body aflame, pricks of pleasure hidden beneath its heat.

After what felt like an eternity, the pleasure seemingly fought off the pain, your moans growing louder and louder, walls clenching down hard.

“That’s it, princess,” he breathed, taking in the way you started moving your hips back to meet his thrusts. He growled at the fluttering of your walls around him. “Look at you, taking daddy’s cock so well.”

The praise sent a sense of euphoria washing over you, the knowledge that he was happy with you creating a blooming happiness within your chest. The all-consuming pleasure was building in you again, sparks prickling behind your eyelids. You hadn’t even realized you’d closed them.

“Daddy,” you cried, moving your bound hands to try to reach for him, needing anything to hold, anything to keep you in this moment.

“I’m here, princess,” he assured, lacing his fingers with your own. You squeezed him tightly as your orgasm came over you. If your last one was like the tide, this one hit you like a fucking tsunami. Your mouth was open, no sound coming out as you were battered by pleasure, the feeling dizzying. It felt almost as if your body didn’t belong to you anymore, your hand going limp within his, muscles failing you. Finally unable to hold up your own body, your knees gave out, Yoongi’s hands reaching to catch you.

When he leaned in to check on you, you gave a weak whimper at the sensation of his cock dragging against your walls, gasping at the sensation. Shivers went through you as he slowly pulled himself out and back in, everything feeling amplified, every little movement inside you creating flashes of white in your vision.

He groaned lowly as he continued to thrust lightly into you, your pussy relentlessly squeezing and releasing him, driving him wild. “Can you handle a little bit more for daddy?”

Every tiny movement felt immense, and you were unable to do anything but to lay lax in his hold, letting him maneuver you whichever way he wanted. But more than anything, you wanted him to get his pleasure, wanted him to use you to get it. You trusted him not to go too crazy. You nodded your consent, too winded to even try to formulate a proper response. But it seemed that he was happy with that, his cock speeding up slightly, thrusts shallow.

You whimpered at his movements, the pleasure that came with his every thrust drowning you in sensation. It had fresh tears rolling down your face, your walls fluttering uncontrollably as sparks of bliss only built and built and built.

“You feel so fucking good around me, princess,” he hissed, hands tightening their hold on your waist as he felt his release inching closer. You heard him as if through a funnel, barely taking in his words, moaning at just the sound of his voice.

He sped up slightly, movements sloppy as he used you to chase his own pleasure, moaning loudly. It was as though nothing in the world existed except for this euphoria. It felt like every cell in your body was shaking, the pleasure somehow impossibly building in you again. At a particularly deep thrust you whined, clamping down on his cock.

“You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you? God, you’re so good for me,” he grunted, biting into his lip as he neared the edge.

Determined to get you off one more time, he fought to continue his motions, moans choking out as he prevented himself from falling.

When total bliss hit you again, you went completely silent, letting it take over. Your hands twitched, pussy tightening enough to send Yoongi over the edge, spilling inside you with a roar. He panted as your cunt kept squeezing around him, rivulets of sweat dripping down his back. You hummed weakly at the feeling of warmth inside you, fighting to stay conscious after all that your body had been put through.

You barely felt it when Yoongi slipped out of you with a hiss, his hands gently lowering you to the floor as he worked to untie your wrists. You didn’t even move once you were freed, Yoongi’s hands massaging your wrists, examining them closely before setting them down.

You hardly reacted at the feeling of weightlessness that came when he moved you from the floor to the bed. You gave a low hum, relieved at the comfort of the soft mattress after kneeling on the floor for so long. A hand brushed away the hair stuck to your face, wiping at the wetness that was present there, before moving away from you.

He didn’t disappear for long before returning with a wettened towel. He’d always made sure to keep towels in the bedroom once he realized how much you needed his presence after a scene. He wiped tenderly between your legs before massaging cream into your ass and wrists.

“Are you awake, princess?” he asked softly once finished with his ministrations, noting the way you still hadn’t opened your eyes.

“Mhm,” you mumbled quietly, reaching out blindly to take his hand into yours.

“Will you drink some water for me?”

You blinked your eyes open, lids heavy. You were met by the sight of Yoongi, water bottle in hand, looking down at you in concern. He helped you to sit up, holding you steady as you drank.

“Yoongi,” you whispered upon finishing. An ugly feeling was rising in your gut, one that you wanted to put to rest right away.

“Hm?”

“Are you mad at me?” You bit your lip and fixed your eyes onto his face, scanning for any sign of disappointment or anger, relieved when you found none.

“Of course not,” he immediately answered, putting the water aside and pulling you to lay against his chest. He was surprised the thought even crossed your mind. Though, you didn’t tend to be a disobedient sub, and he supposed you weren’t used to being punished for it.

He felt the tension leave your body at his response, your clear worry sending a tinge of sadness through him. He rubbed lightly at your back, satisfied when your breaths started evening out. He turned off the lamp on the nightstand, shifting to lay both of you down comfortably. He smiled as he took in the tranquil expression on your face, leaning in to gently kiss your forehead.

“Sleep well, Y/N.”

[aealzx]

I’m going to put this one under the cut juuuust in case |D There’s a bit of mention of gorey stuff, and things that might be uncomfortable to some about Vanitas’ time with Xehanort and scientists.

I just realized when I was going through pics that I haven’t drawn Vanitas in awhile. So I wanted to draw him again, and ended up focusing on one of his therapy sessions, if they could be called that. |D I dunno anything about proper therapy, could never fine any psychiatrists that weren’t just “how did that make you feel?” or laughed at me.

“What would YOU know of my life Valentine? Did you live through it? You’ve spoken to me for four years already, but what does it matter? How can you hope to sympathize with something you’ve never experienced? Is this fun for you? To pick me apart with words much like those men cut my arms to see if I still bleed like a human.”

The sessions were starting to go downhill again. It was a struggle each time, for Vincent could never figure out what triggered them. Lacing his fingers in front of him, Vincent just watched Vanitas shout at him, refusing to make any sudden movements that might startle the boy and giving some time for him to calm down a little. “I’m aware of some of what happened to you and Ventus, Vanitas. But my goal here is not to try to empathize with you. It’s to help you come to terms with something affecting you in ways you refuse to admit. I hold no joy in your distress.”

“HA!” Vanitas barked, shifting into one of his moods where he preferred to laugh rather than shrink away. “Hahahaha, you pretend this is for my sake, as if I don’t know it’s all for you. You who had the tragic son you wish you could save. An abomination that murdered some poor bloke’s mother, I’ve heard all about it. You think by helping me you can save him? It doesn’t work that way. I have to be someone worthy of saving in the first place.”

“You don’t think you’re worthy?” Vincent asked, expertly keeping his voice level despite the prodding from Vanitas about his own past.

“Pff, don’t care. I’m not looking for some dumb redemption change or whatever,” Vanitas answered, making quotes in the air with his fingers in mocking. “I’m happy the way I am. Don’t want to deal with your light bullsh-.”

“You’re happy being here in a mental ward, without freedom to do as you please? Happy to be unable to sleep at night because of nightmares? Not being able to see the brother you cherish so dee-”

“And having some person here constantly badgering me about stuff that doesn’t matter?” Vanitas interrupted. “It’s not much different, actually. The only difference is that the cage doesn’t have bars, but a wooden door and walls. And the doctors don’t stab with knives, but with their words instead. You’re not so different, Doctor. Just because blood doesn’t actually run down your hands like the others.”

This time Vincent remained quiet, just watching Vanitas over his own fingers as the boy sagged down to lean back on the plush chair again. He watched Vincent carefully for a moment, before giving him a slight smirk.

“You know, there was this one kid there. Cut open his chest just to watch his heart beat. Dm dm. Dm dm,” Vanitas explained, placing his hands on his chest and pulling out slightly, then flaring them in rhythm to a heartbeat. “Just bleed on the floor, they didn’t care. Maybe they could see what was wrong just by looking with their eyes. ‘Course it didn’t work. Had to stitch him back up, and I dunno what happened after that. Not like I cared. The ones that cried and whined for mommy and daddy got the beatings. But if you gave the beatings instead.... They liked the fighters. Sometimes they’d let me out, if I beat up the other kids for them. Keep them in line.”

“.....It’s common for people to do terrible things in the mind of self preservation. You felt threatened, so you performed actions that would keep your captors from harming you. The fault lies with them.”

“Even for the girl I chose to shoot on my own?” Vanitas asked, a smile splitting his face when Vincent’s fingers twitched. “You know, we actually got out once. Some do gooder hero broke us out of the cells. But then there were the bodyguards behind us, chasing the little girl with pigtails as she ran with Ventus. She wasn’t going to get anywhere like that, dragging his half functioning body around. So when they caught up to us I took their gun… and I shot her, for being so stupid. That should have taught her a lesson for ruining everything I built up. Her and the other guy. Can’t say I know what happened to them, for they took us back soon enough.”

Vincent had to keep himself from reacting too much to the new revelation. He already knew that Vanitas had helped beat the other kids, but this was the first time he’d ever heard of them having a failed rescue attempt. And Vanitas claimed he’d shot a little girl? Had it been a dream, or had it actually happened? “Why would you hinder their attempt to help you?”

“Why would you ask me that, Doctor? I thought that was your job to figure out,” Vanitas responded, jaw resting on his fist. “And I think you’ll have plenty of time for that. I’m sure our session is over now.”

“I can extend it if necessary,” Vincent countered, not liking how Vanitas was avoiding the question. It was just a guess at this point, but Vincent was sure that Vanitas avoided content that made him feel like there was something more behind his actions than senseless violence.

“Don’t make me call the nurses in here,” Vanitas threatened, eyes narrowing. “I’m sure I could use the nap. Apparently I don’t sleep well after all.”

Vincent tensed, but inevitably let out a sigh in relent. He’d rather not have Vanitas attack him for the countless time just to have nurses rush in to sedate him. “Very well, Vanitas. We’ll pick this up next week. As usual.”

[bardic-inspo]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the lovely @third-rail-vip . Thank you friend!

Tagging @electricshoebox, @diredigression, @commandershepardshtole, and @tarberrymentats If you have anything you’re working on that you’d like to share. No pressure if not!! :)

Sharing two little disparate pieces of a smutty, angsty, smangsty one-shot I’m working on for Deacon, MacCready, and Natasha. Working title is “Warm Bodies”.

Natasha’s eyes flutter open, half-lidded and hazy. There's a rosy glow on her face that spreads warmth through Deacon’s chest. She follows through where he failed, pressing past his hand to tug halfheartedly at MacCready’s belt. “You gonna help a girl out, Dee, or do I gotta spring him out of jail myself?”

MacCready scoffs, a little pouty puff against her neck. Retribution comes in the form of his teeth nipping sharp but sweet on the curve of her shoulder. Eyes open, MacCready soothes it over with slow, wet suck. Natasha sighs contentedly, fingers forgetting the belt. Thwarted again.

“You’re not fair,” Deacon chides, filling MacCready’s ear with a husky undertone. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mac sighs with a tickle of roughness in the back of his throat. The one that feels like velvet. 

“All that talk about getting us in here,” Deacon drags his lips over Bobby’s ear lobe, relishing the feel of Mac’s muscles tensing taut beneath the touch. “Thought we were getting a show. Turns out it’s just talk.”

“Life isn’t fair,” MacCready rasps. That velvet’s been brushed back the wrong way.

And another snippet:

It hurts. It still hurts. It’ll hurt tomorrow, when they wake up tangled. Set in like a sore bruise. Scars for the words that left them. Words they can’t take back. Deacon wouldn’t, if he could. 

But he knows every freckle, every other mark and mar on Natasha and MacCready. Even the ones skin doesn’t show. For every scar, there’s a salve.  To help it fade. To make them forget. To make Deacon forget, for just a little while, that these bodies burning against his hands could’ve been anything but warm.

[kieraswriting]

Coffin Chapter Twenty-Seven

Masterpost

Remus had wandered off, for once having the tact to leave Thomas and Dee to have their conversation alone.

Dee didn't like the look Thomas was fixing him with, but it was even worse that he was silent. Leaving Dee to say something first.

"I can't say I'm sorry," Dee said, his voice already a touch unsteady.

"You can't? You thralled me, when I trusted you, and it's been, what, twelve hours? More?"

Dee swallowed. "It's been fourteen."

Thomas frowned. "And you can't say you're sorry? You know, I've told you, I wanted us to keep practicing until we had to leave. At this point, we ought to have moved on already."

Dee shook his head. He wanted to stick to his decision, but why did it have to feel so awful ?

"Then what can you say? Surely you wouldn't do something like that and have nothing to say."

"I can't just let you do this to yourself. I can't, Thomas!"

"But I chose it. I chose this myself, and you took my choice away from me." Thomas didn't even seem mad, just upset. Almost betrayed. And that hurt.

Dee couldn't answer that. It was true.

"And you know why I'm doing it," Thomas continued. "You know it's to help you get better at--"

"I can't possibly focus on getting better at thralling if I'm scared for you!" Dee exploded. "I-It's not nearly as important to me as it is to you. I do want to be able to protect you. I do. But I can't go hurting you to do it! It's-It's wrong!"

"It's not about me!" Thomas yelled back. "If we get caught, they aren't going to do anything more to me than jail. You have to be able to protect yourself!"

Dee wrapped his arms around himself. "I won't hurt you to help myself."

Thomas finally softened. "Dee, you haven't hurt me. You've always been very careful."

"I have!" Dee said, shutting his eyes tight. "You're exhausting yourself. And it's because I'm thralling you. Even being careful, it tires you, sometimes even hurts you, and I can't keep doing it. I-- I don't want to do it anymore."

Thomas set a hand on his shoulder, and Dee gripped his fingers into his arms.

"I'm sorry," Thomas said.

Dee opened his eyes and looked up.

Thomas looked away a bit. "I-- I thought I was only driving myself. But I haven't been. I'm sorry for scaring you, and for pushing you. I would very much like it if you'd keep trying, but it'll be your decision, and if we do it, we'll take it slower. Ok?"

Tears welled up in Dee's eyes. "That- yeah, it sounds way better. Thank you."

"Can I hug you?"

Dee immediately leaned in to Thomas. He was safe. He'd always been safe. Thomas hugged him close, and his fears faded away.

"I'm sorry," Dee said. "I won't thrall you-- er, not for me. I mean, I won't make you do things you don't want to. I promise."

Thomas rubbed a hand over his back. "I know you wouldn't. But thank you for the promise."

•^*^••

Logan waited impatiently at the door for Remy and Emile to come back. He’d already packed up the essentials, and was now just trying, and failing, to believe the best.

Finally they drove up, and got out of the car, immediately noticing his stance.

“What happened?” Logan demanded.

“Why, what’s wrong?” Emile asked.

“The hunters know we’re, or at least that you’re in this town. Emile, there’s a shoot on sight order for us!”

Emile paled, and Remy bristled, stepping in front of him. “Look, if we’ve got to leave, just say so. You don’t get to yell at Emile.”

Logan clenched his jaw. “Yes. We have to leave.”

Remy nodded, picking up the bags and loading them into the back of the car.

They all got in, and drove away, in a rather tense silence.

“So what did happen?” Logan asked, trying to keep his tone even and non-accusatory.

“I don’t really know. Nothing was odd, except…. oh.”

“Oh? What oh?”

“I did tell a hunter my name yesterday.”

“You did what?” Both Logan and Remy said in sync.

“If you had told me, I would’ve done more than knock him out!” Remy said.

“Wait, what happened with a hunter?” Logan asked.

“Well, he was hurting a vampire, and humiliating them. I just couldn’t leave them alone like that!”

“But why would you give the hunter your name?!” Logan yelled, forgetting his forced calm.

If Remy hadn’t been driving he surely would’ve gotten back at Logan, but as it was, he growled out a ‘watch it, Logan.’

Logan took in a breath. “I apologize for my tone. Why would you give a hunter your name?”

Emile shrugged. “It’s what I always do, introduce myself. I was hoping to distract him, and it worked. I just didn’t consider that he was a hunter.”

Logan nodded. It wasn’t a good reason, but it was at least understandable.

“I just hope we get far enough away soon enough to be safe,” Logan said.

Emile wilted, and Remy glared at him through the rear view mirror.

•^*^••

“Hello?” Thomas said.

“Hello, Thomas.” Logan replied. “Hunters have discovered our location, and we are moving. I do not believe that they know where you are, but as a precaution please be more careful for the next few days.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course I will. Thanks. Keep me updated, ok?”

“Certainly. I will be in contact sometime this evening.”

“Yeah, ok. Be safe.”

Logan hung up the phone.

“What was that?” Dee asked.

“Hunters found where Logan and them were staying. They’re moving, but I don’t think they’re being followed or anything. Logan seemed pretty calm.”

Dee hummed thoughtfully. “Should we move on from here?”

Thomas looked around the campsite. “Eh, I don’t think there’s anyone even near here. I think we’re safer here than in the car.”

•^*^••

“They found you?!” Patton suddenly said, very loudly.

Virgil frowned in concern. It was Logan calling. That couldn’t mean anything good.

Patton talked for a while longer before calming down. Finally he hung up.

“What happened?” Virgil asked.

“Hunters found out where they were staying, so they have to move. He said we should be extra careful for a while.”

Virgil nodded. “Does that mean we’re postponing the bonfire again?”

“Nah,” Roman said. “We keep this little stove cooking half the time anyway, we don’t have to worry about smoke. Anyone watching knows that somebody’s up here. We just have to act natural.”

Virgil nodded. He was glad that they didn’t have to postpone it again. Just before they’d been ready to start yesterday, it had started raining. Things were still damp, but he was hoping they’d be able to start the fire tonight.

•^*^••

Liam looked at the leads he had, spread out in front of him. He touched the first paper.

“My son is traveling with vampires, and other humans, including his friends. He’s likely being kept either trapped or thralled at all times, since I haven’t had any contact from him. His friends? Hopefully thralled. If somehow they’re doing this of their free will? Well, let’s just say they’d better not be.”

Liam pushed one of the papers aside. “So there’s Pat, two friends, possibly two more humans, and a load of vampires.”

He frowned at a map. “But there’s no way they’re all in a group. We’ve been too careful for a group that large to get anywhere. It’s also possible that they’ve left the state, possibly in different directions.”

He picked up a folder, but didn’t open it. “There’s an old one with them, called Remy, who’s given us no end of trouble in the past. One of our men tried to track it with trackers in the guns, badges, and other supplies of the men he sent out to confront him. Remy took several of the trackers with it, but when examined, the places they were left did not appear to be his home. Im going to count this as a dead end.”

Liam sighed. “And Patton’s phone was left behind, so I can’t track him with that.”

He turned to his laptop, where a little dot was moving along a map. “Emile, one of the humans with them, has been reported to be in this town. I sent some men, but the town is far out of my jurisdiction, and judging on their previous actions, these vampires are too smart to stay in one place long.”

Liam groaned. “I need another lead! How can there be so few?! Come on, Pat. Find a way to call me. You’re a smart kid. Easily smarter than these vampires.”

[djarinispunk]

Chapter Three - Familiar Face

"Murphy"

You couldn't hide the shock on your face when you turned to see Javier, your jaw was practically hanging on the floor. If Javier was shocked to see you, he didn't show it. His face was stoic as ever and he practically looked straight past you as he approached you and Steve. If you weren't so in shock maybe you'd feel a little hurt.

"What the hell happened?" Javier asked, looking over the newly ravaged Club Oracle, what a coincidence that only mere weeks ago he was sitting in there.

"We’re thinking its one of Escobar's mules, took him out before things could get too heavy" Steve replied, gesturing to one of the body bags you'd failed to see upon your exit, your body shivered at the thought of who was inside.

"Won’t that put a target on our backs?" Javier asked, he had his back firmly to you, blocking you out.

Asshole.

"What a bigger one than we've got already?" Steve replied, before turning to gesture to you, he introduced you to Javier, telling him your name as if he hadn't been moaning it upon your last visit.

You shook Javier's hand as he told you his name. Looked like he was choosing to feign ignorance over behaving like a normal adult.

"She pretty much operated the whole thing, told her she should be working for us" Steve joked, nudging your shoulder, you just laughed.

"In that case, thanks for making our job easier" Javier added, you sent him a look, narrowing your eyes, enjoying the way he squirmed under your gaze.

"My pleasure" you nodded.

"One more time" Steve began, looking at you with kind eyes, "Are you sure you don't need a medic?"

You smiled, grateful for his hospitality, "I'm good, thank you Agent Murphy"

"Please, just call me Steve" he matched your smile, you watched from the corner of your eye as Javier seemed to roll his eyes.

Was he jealous?

You decided to play with him a little, running your hands along Steve's bicep as you spoke in a hushed tone, "I hate to ask but I'd really appreciate a ride home, I don't think I'm good to drive"

You watched as Javier's jaw clenched. God, men were so predictable.

Before Steve could get a word out, you watched Javier step in.

"Murphy I got this, you've got enough to do here" Javier put his arm around you, you tried to ward off the heat his touch brought.

Steve seemed slightly suspicious, you didn't blame him, Javier wasn't really sly in the way he was attached to your hip.

"Okay, and I'll see you at the station?" Steve began to walk away.

"Bright and early" Javier smiled, his grip on your arm intensifying.

"Bye Steve" you waved, your tone growing weak, suddenly you didn't feel so powerful.

As soon as Steve turned around, Javier had whipped you around to face him. His brow furrowed as he looked down at you. You gulped, trying to ignore the fire it kindled between your legs.

"Enjoy flirting with a married man huh?" Javier tone was so stern and do condescending, you hated that it affected you so much.

You cringed at the knowledge that Steve was married but chose to go a more childish route in replying, "Do I know you?"

"Very funny" he narrowed his eyes, to which you mirrored the movements. To any passers-by it would've just looked like the tow of you were engaged in a very heated staring contest.

"Hmm" he took your silence as a cue to continue "I'm gonna ignore this new attitude you got and give you a ride, okay?"

"Sure, gilipollas" you shrugged, muttering the last bit as you headed towards his car.

You heard his footsteps come to a halt, and turned to face him, he did not look impressed, "What did you say?"

And with the sweetest voice you could muster, you smiled, "Nothing!"

The tension in the car was palpable, you felt strangled by the silence that consumed you both. The most you'd said was your address and that was ten minutes ago. You scanned Javier's profile, it was criminal how beautiful he was doing even the most mundane things like driving. You huffed and turned to face the roads one more.

He picked upon your sigh, "Problem?"

"No problem here, officer" you practically purred the words.

"Still got a stick up your ass?" he said, you rolled your eyes in response.

"Why did you pretend to not know me in front of Agent Murphy?" you asked, choosing to ignore his previous remark.

He sighed before glancing over to you, "It wasn't personal, I'd just rather my colleague not have the opportunity to tease me about who I sleep with"

"Slept with" you corrected, now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

"But, I guess that's understandable" you began, noting his silence, "I just thought you were ashamed or something" you turned your attention to your cuticles, not meaning to sound so vulnerable.

He looked over to you again, taking your hand and placing his lips gently against them. You fought the urge to blush under his honeyed eyes.

"Never would I be ashamed, hermosa" his tone was low and sultry.

"What's taking so long anyways I only live like a mile away" you wondered, not sure how to respond to Javier's honesty.

"We're not going to your house"

You furrowed your brows, "What?"

"I'm taking you to my place" he was confident in his voice, like his words were common knowledge.

"Do I have any say in this?" you asked, eyebrows raised as he just chuckled at you.

"You gonna say no?" he turned to you as he smirked.

Safe to say you stayed quiet for the rest of the car ride. Arriving at Javier's apartment the second time around was far less rushed than the first. You had the chance to look around and assess his living quarters. You could tell Javier was a minimal kind of guy, only requiring the basics.

The one thing you did pick up on was the the record players nestled in the corner of his living room. You wandered over as Javier fixed you both a drink, scanning the crate of vinyl sitting next to it.

"Mind if I choose something" you held a record up to show Javier, he took a break from pouring as he looked over the breakfast nook.

"Be my guest"

You took the vinyl out of the sleeve and soon the sultry tones of Donnie and Joe Emerson were rattling through the room.

You took a seat on Javier's couch, smiling when he joined and handed you a mixed drink.

"Trying to get me drunk Mr..." you pulled a face realising you didn't even know the guys last name, yet you'd been to his house twice already.

"Peña, Mr Peña. And to answer your question, no, I want you to be in the right state of mind for what I'm going to do to you" he purred as his lustful eyes sized you up.

After downing a reasonable amount of your drink, you seemed to gain a little confidence. You set the glass on the coffee table and turned to straddle Javier's hips.

"Is that so? What if I want to take charge?" you spoke, laying soft kisses on his neck, feeling his pulse quicken underneath you.

"You're getting awful bossy, querida"

"Oh yeah? And you're being awful loud Mr Peña" you felt a surge of energy as you head a slight groan from Javier upon hearing you call him such a powerful title.

You continued your path of kisses, heading south and unbuttoning his work uniform as you did so. Javier's hand nestled into your hair as you began to undo the latches on his belt. Javier's thighs tenses as you shimmied him out of his jeans, already you could see his member straining against the fabric of his boxers.

You kissed the strong muscle of Javier's thighs, purposefully avoiding where he was most sensitive. You enjoyed the power as you felt him try to pull you closer to where he wanted you.

"Come on baby" you almost didn't recognise his breathy voice, "You're killing me here"

Deciding you'd had enough of torturing him, you released his cock from the confines of his boxers, not missing the quiet moan that left Javier, only spurring you on more.

You licked a stripe up the underside of Javier's hard cock, before taking him in your mouth completely. You weren't used to someone of his size so you let yourself adjust to the intrusion. When you were more comfortable you hollowed out your cheeks and began to bob up and down, Javier's moans fuelling you as you took him deeper.

"Fuck, just like that" his grip in your hair tightened as he bucked his hips into your mouth, causing you to gag slightly, "Fuck yes, choke on it"

His words ignited your own arousal, wanting nothing more than to reach down and satisfy yourself, but no, you wouldn't, this was about him.

You continued your ministrations on his cock, you could feel his breath quicken with every bob of your head. Knowing his orgasm was fast approaching, you took him dee and let yourself gag around him. Javier let out a deep moan followed by a string of expletives.

Suddenly, he pulled your head off of him and brought you up to reach his height, the sudden movement startled you but soon you were calmed by the feel of his warm lips against yours.

In between kisses he spoke into your mouth, "I want to finish with you" followed by more kisses, "Want to feel you come around me"

His words were met with a groan, this time by you. Javier wasted no time ridding you of your work uniform and settled you in a sitting position, easing into you with a slow thrust.

You both shared a moan as he began a steady pace as fucked up into you. Being on top was a whole other experience than the last time you had sex, he felt so much deeper in you and because of this, you struggled to meet his thrusts.

You soon started to match his hips, letting out wanton moans as you felt him speed up his motions.

"Fuck Javier" you managed to moan out between kisses.

"Talk to me baby, how does he feel" he took to planting wet kisses against you kisses as you lay your head back, basking in the unrivalled pleasure.

"It feels so good. Fuck, I can feel you in my fucking stomach" you whined, feeling your orgasm fast approaching as he hit your g-spot repeatedly.

"I- fuck - I am baby, you feel so fucking good" Javier's thrusts were growing sloppier, he to was close.

"Don't come yet baby, wait for Daddy" the name caught you off guard — your eyes widening slightly but you were quickly overridden with lust, letting out a moan as you snaked a hand down to stimulate your clit.

"Fuck, okay, come now baby. Come on my cock"

And that you did, almost painful in how intense you shook as you rode through your orgasm. You barely even heard Javier's moans as heat seared your body.

After a few minutes of heavy breathing and sweaty kisses, Javier pulled out and you settled against his chest, smiling to yourself as you heard the record come to a halt and flip over.

[sparrow-flies-south]

I Can’t Decide (Whether You Should Live Or Die) 3

Title: I Can’t Decide (Whether You Should Live Or Die) Pairings: Romantic Thomceit Warnings: More murder attempts, stabbing, references to child abduction and abuse, references to torture, and a character who, while not actually suicidal, is prepared to sacrifice his life. Summary: Deceit is one of the best assassins in the business. So assassinating Thomas Sanders should not be difficult - except Thomas seems to have the amazing ability to happen to escape from death. And the longer it takes Deceit to kill Thomas, the less sure he is that he even wants to.

My Masterpost   Read on AO3  Part one  Part two  Fic tag

The agency has safe houses dotted across the country, but it’s only the new members who rely on them. Over time, assassins fain their own network of safe houses and bolt holes; some that belong to them, others that another agent will let them use.

Deceit can’t use any of the agency’s safe houses. He can’t use any belonging to his allies, either, though there were only ever a handful of them. He inherited some of his own safe houses from the Dragon, which leaves only a few that he can go to. Fortunately, one of these is in Florida.

The owner of the building the flat is in gets paid handsomely to not ask too many questions. The other residents believe Deceit is a rich man who spends most of his time travelling the world. There are a number of ways out of the building for if it does get discovered, and it’s located close to the main road out of town.

It’s long past midnight when Deceit arrives, meaning he has officially failed his mission. Officially abandoned his mission, which is worse. If he’d just failed, his reputation would be ruined, and he’d have to fight to repair it, but he’d still be welcomed back.

There’s only one case that he knows of where someone abandoned their mission, when it had turned out the target could pay better than the agency did. Deceit had tracked the agent down in Budapest.

“What the fuck would you know about anything?” she’d snarled at him, back pressed against the wall and bleeding from her side. “You’re brainwashed by the agency!”

He hadn’t taken offence to her insults. Everyone knows that it wasn’t exactly his choice to become what he is today. People wondered why the Dragon had shown up after a mission with a freshly orphaned child, why she’d sunk her time and resources into training him, but everyone agreed that it had worked.

It hadn’t been a violent process, the remaking of him, but a gentle one. A band wrapped around his old self, so that as he grew, that part of him died and rotted away. Before long, the only name he’d gone by had been the one the Dragon had given him.

He’d buried the traitor by the side of the road; one last sign of respect that she didn’t deserve. The greatest honour any assassin could have is to go unremembered.

Janus should be dead and gone like she is, but Deceit dug him up when he’d told Thomas his name, and now he’s Deceits own spectre.

He doesn’t even know why he told Thomas that. A name makes no difference when he won’t see Thomas again.

And he won’t see Thomas again. Going back is too risky, it’s the first place the agency will look for him. And Deceit doesn’t know what he’s doing, doesn’t even know what he is anymore, but he knows he doesn’t want the agency to find him, not yet.

A day passes, two, and Deceit stays in the safe house as much as possible. He destroyed his phone after fleeing Thomas’ house, so he buys a new one when he has to stock up on supplies. He could call Thomas – he has Thomas’ number memorised. Then he can tell Thomas that he isn’t going to kill him, and Thomas will know he doesn’t have to even think about Deceit anymore.

He doesn’t call.

And then, on the third day, someone calls him.

Deceit answers it solely out of curiosity. It isn’t hard to recognise the high pitched, nasally voice on the other end.

“Sup, Deedee,” the Duke says. “Heard you fucked up.”

Out of everyone in the agency, Remus is the closest thing Deceit has ever had to a partner. They’re both the best at their job, though they have very different methods, and Deceit is one of the few people who tolerates the Duke’s antics. So when two people are needed for a mission, they end up paired together. And when a job is outside one’s realm of expertise, the other gets called it.

Deceit has been asked to clean up after Remus many times.

“How did you find this number?” Deceit asks.

The Duke laughs. “Figure it out! Unless you’re getting too rusty. Heard you’ve been having trouble getting it up – and by ‘getting it up’ I mean killing people. So now I get to come out to play instead!”

“You’ve been given the Thomas job,” he realises. It’s not much of a surprise; the agency doesn’t leave their targets alive just because one of their members fails.

“Ooh, first name basis. What’d he do, suck your dick? Or did he turn out to have secret ninja training or something?”

“Remus-”

“Sorry, Dee, can’t talk, got a plane to catch. See you when I’m done with him!”

The Duke hangs up before Deceit can say anything. Deceit stares down at the phone. He’d known something like this would happen, he just hadn’t thought about it. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, though that’s hardly an excuse for getting sloppy.

The Duke is going to kill Thomas. That’s without question. He might kill Virgil, too, but that hardly matters, since Deceit isn’t the one doing it. And Thomas knows he’s going to die, has been given time to make peace with it. Deceit has granted him that kindness.

Remus is among the best. Even if Thomas and Virgil get lucky again, they won’t be able to stop him for good. Only an assassin would be able to do that.

Deceit groans and buries his face in his hands. It’s one thing to fail, it’s even one thing to desert. But it’s a completely different thing to turn traitor, and that’s what he’ll be if he tries to intervene. And then he’ll be killed horribly, and Thomas will die as well, and none of it will have mattered.

Is Thomas worth such a pointless, suicidal mission?

Deceit curses, then storms out of his apartment.

*

He finally finds Thomas and Virgil and the mall, between Hot Topic and Pandora. Virgil is on his phone, and Thomas is talking to him. Thomas looks up, spots Deceit coming towards them, and smiles, face relaxing with relief as he raises a hand to wave.

Before Deceit can get there, Virgil is in front of him, putting himself between Deceit and Thomas.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Virgil snarls. His hands are clenched into fists, but Deceit can still see that he’s shaking.

Clearly, Virgil must have the sense that Thomas is lacking; he’s hostile and suspicious, and Deceit won’t be able to change that any time soon. It would be good to see, if it wasn’t getting in Deceit’s way right now.

“We need to get out of here,” Deceit says to Thomas.

“Yeah, no,” Virgil snaps. “I’m not letting you take Thomas somewhere to murder him.”

“As opposed to murdering him right here?” Deceit asks. “Or when he gets home? You know, for people with assassins after you, you’re not taking many precautions.”

“Deceit, buddy, you’re not really helping your case,” Thomas sighs. Some sense of urgency must show on Deceit’s face, though, because Thomas goes serious and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“You’re in danger,” Deceit says. “Quite possibly very immediate danger.”

“Pretty sure the danger is standing right in front of us,” Virgil mutters.

“The danger is that you’re standing here talking when you should be moving,” Deceit hisses. “Or did you actually think ignoring the problem would make it go away?”

“Okay.” Thomas pushes between them. “Deceit, I am very confused. Could you please just explains what’s going on? And where have you been?”

Deceit forces him to take a slow breath in and out. Is helping people always like this? It’s exhausting.

“I’m not the only assassin out there,” Deceit explains. “The Duke is looking for you, and believe me, you do not want him to find you. So we need to leave now.”

Thomas goes pale. Virgil tenses up.

“No fucking way,” Virgil says, at the same time as Thomas says, “Okay, let’s go.”

Virgil stares at Thomas incredulously. Deceit feels the same way, but he’s not about to question it now that things are finally doing his way. Virgil has no such qualms.

“What the fuck?” he snaps. “You’re seriously trusting him right now? His name is Deceit.”

Thomas shrugs sheepishly. “He hasn’t killed me yet.”

“That cannot be where the bar is.”

“If you’re quite done,” Deceit says, and Virgil turns all the venom in his gaze back to him. “We really should be going.”

Thomas nods, takes a step forward. “Virgil, I know you don’t trust him, but trust me. I’ll be fine, okay?”

Virgil shakes his head. “Fine,” he snaps, “But I’m coming with you.”

“No,” Thomas says immediately, and the intensity startles both Deciet and Virgil. “I’ve already put you in danger, I’m not putting you in any more.”

Deceit scans the mall. They really do not have time for this.

“Please,” Virgil says. “You’d be dead five times over by now if it wasn’t for me, Sanders. Someone has to watch your back.”

“Wonderful, we’re all going,” Deceit says. “Can we just get a move on?”

Thomas and Virgil seem to have a conversation with just their eyes, and then Thomas nods. “Okay,” he says. “You, uh, you do have somewhere to go, right?”

Deceit rolls his eyes, already leading the way out of the mall. He hears Thomas and Virgil hurry to keep up with him. “No, I barged in here without a plan,” he answers. “Honestly, Thomas, what do you take me for?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Thomas roll his eyes fondly, even as Virgil grumbles.

*

They don’t go far. Deceit takes them to an empty shop close to the mall, and ushers them upstairs, into what used to be an office room. Virgil hovers close to Thomas the whole time. Deceit leaves them there, and goes downstairs to check the perimeter.

There are a lot of places the Duke could enter – the main door, a back door, the large windows at the front of the shop which are boarded up but not boarded up well, and the windows upstairs. It’ll have to do for now, though, as Deceit doesn’t want to risk taking Thomas and Virgil across town until he knows where Remus is.

So he gets to work making it as safe as he can; he blocks off the front door first, as that’s the most obvious point of entry, and then switches to the back. There’s not a lot he can actually use – he was able to move some furniture still left in the front to block off that door, and he finds some wood and nails, presumably from boarding up the windows.

He’s only just set to work when someone moves behind him. He spins, already pulling out a knife and preparing to throw it when he realises who it is; Thomas, hands raised and a sheepish smile on his face.

“Sorry,” Thomas says. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“Be glad I’m too well trained to have thrown that,” Deceit answers, and Thomas’ lips quirk up even more into a smile, as if Deceit isn’t talking about killing him.

“If I’m not back upstairs in ten minutes, Virgil’s going to come down,” Thomas says, grimacing. “He made me say that.”

“Okay.” Virgil’s suspicions is equal parts refreshing and grating, though he’s not sure what Virgil thinks it can possibly accomplish.

“What happened?” Thomas blurts, and it’s clear he’s wanted to say this for a while. “You show up at my house having a panic attack, and then you just disappear. Where have you been?”

“A safe house,” Deceit answers.

“Yeah, that narrows it down,” Thomas says. “Janus-”

Deceit goes perfectly still when Thomas says that name, and Thomas trails off, looking uncertain.

“I just- are you okay?” Thomas finishes.

“Clearly,” Deceit says. He’s here, isn’t he?

“That’s not what I mean,” Thomas says. He places a hand on Deceit’s arm, and Deceit’s brain short circuits. “Look, if you- want to talk or something, I’m here, okay?”

Deceit stares at Thomas’ hand. His touch is gentle yet solid. “You won’t like what I have to talk about.”

Thomas shrugs. “I can deal with it.”

“I’m fine.”

Thomas doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push it.  Instead, he asks, “Who’s the Duke?”

“An assassin who works for the same people as me,” Deceit explains. “Since they aren’t happy with my progress, he’s been given the job.”

“And now he’s trying to kill me,” Thomas finishes, and Deceit nods.

Deceit gives Thomas a moment to process this before continuing, “The Duke is one of the best. Dealing with him will be difficult.”

“You said you work together. Is he your friend?”

An absurd thought. “I don’t have friends.”

“Except for me,” Thomas says.

That= Deceit doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s ridiculous – he and Thomas can’t be friends, even if Thomas is still touching him. He’s tried to kill Thomas multiple times, and Thomas kidnapped him (technically), and now Thomas is worried about Deceit’s mental state, and Deceit is risking his life to protect Thomas.

Deceit is about to explain all of this, when upstairs Virgil cries out, “Thomas!”

The panic in Virgil’s voice is clear, and the shout Is cut off at the end. Thomas takes off running first, but Deceit quickly overtakes him, so he is the first one to enter the room.

Virgil is still alive. The Duke stands behind him, one arm wrapped around Virgil’s neck, keeping him still. The other hand holds that ridiculous morning star that he likes so much. Somehow, Virgil manages to look both scared and pissed off all at once.

“Hi, Deede,” Remus says cheerfully. “Didn’t expect you to be such a sore loser. I got this job fair and square, you know.”

Deceit can tell the minute Thomas catches up, because Virgil’s eyes fly to someone in the doorway, and Thomas himself lets out a strangled noise. Deceit takes a smooth step back, so he’s standing next to Thomas.

“Funny,” Deceit says. “I didn’t expect you to get the wrong person.” He wraps his fingers around Thomas’ arm, and pulls him towards himself. Thomas stumbles as he moves, clearly not expecting Deceit to betray him.

Deceit pulls Thomas in front of him, and wraps one arm around Thomas’ chest. With their bodies pressed so close together, Deceit can feel Thomas’ breath speed up. Across the room, Virgil snarls and struggles, only to go still when Remus tightens his grip. Remus tilts his head, looking rather like a dog that just wandered in from the street.

“Why haven’t you killed him yet?” Remus asks, and Thomas’ breath stutters.

Deceit shrugs, watching for any sign of movement. “I’m having fun.”

“You fucking bastard,” Virgil snarls, kicking at Remus. Remus just holds onto him and whoops with laughter.

“Careful,” Remus says. “There’ll be time for you, too.”

Remus might very well kill Virgil here and now – the only reason he hasn’t is probably so he doesn’t get distracted.

“Why wait?” Deceit asks. “Consider him the consolation prize.”

Remus’ grin turns feral, which means he recognises the challenge. That ends up being the only warning Deceit gets before Remus in launching himself across the room, Virgil thrown to the side like a discarded doll.

Deceit flings himself and Thomas to the floor, dodging the swing of Remus’ mace. He leaves Thomas there and moves to meet Remus. He’s fast enough to grab Remus’ arm and twist it, forcing Remus to drop the mace.

Remus grabs Deceit’s wrist where he’s still holding Remus’ hand, and tries to flip him to the ground. Deceit is able to break free of the hold, and he aims a kick at Remus’ legs. It makes Remus stumble, and Deceit uses that to knock Remus to the ground, and pin him in place.

He can’t see Thomas or Virgil. He hopes this means that they’re smart enough to get the hell out of here while they still have a chance-

The knife slides into Deceit’s abdomen, and the surprise is enough for Remus to be able to throw him off.  Deceit gasps in pain, tries to pull himself upright, but Remus is already there, pushing him back down again.

“Eh, don’t feel too bad,” Remus says, patting Deceit on the cheek. “Better luck next time, right?”

“Remus, don’t,” Deceit begs, but Remus ignores him and picks up the morning star.

“C’mon, I won unfair and square,” Remus says.

Deceit is able to push himself to his feet, though he knows fighting Remus won’t do much good. Thomas and Virgil are standing in the doorway, which means he hasn’t even managed to give them a head start.

He lunges forward, grabs Remus by the arm, desperately trying to stop him, but Remus shakes Deceit off with a snarl. Deceit is already off-balance from the wound, and now Remus throws him to the ground. The air is forced out of his lungs, and he can only stare up at Remus, standing over him.

“Please,” Deceit is able to gasp out.

Remus tilts his head. “It’s only a job,” he says, a bit reproachful.

Deceit shakes his head. He wants to tell Remus it’s not, but he can’t, and someone is running across the room towards them.

“Stop,” Thomas cries, and Remus swivels to look at him. “Look, let him and Virgil go, and- and you can kill me. I won’t try to fight you.”

Remus glances between Thomas and Deceit, and then shrugs. “Kind of a weird thing to say, but I’ll take it.”

“No,” Deceit snarls. He tries to push himself upright, but is unable to.

“Deceit, don’t,” Thomas says. “It’s okay. You did everything you could.”

“Hang on,” Remus says, lowering his mace. “He knows you name?”

“Well,” Thomas says shakily, “It’d be kind of weird if I kept calling him Mr Assassin.”

 “Okay,” Remus says. “Can one of you tell me what in the ever loving fuck is going on?”

Deceit opens his mouth to explain, but before he can Virgil is at his side, one hand gingerly touching near the wound on Deceit’s abdomen.

“What the fuck, you just got stabbed,” Virgil hisses, which Deceit thinks should be fairly obvious by this point.

Virgil shrugs out of his hoodie and presses it against the wound, stemming the bleeding. Thomas crouches down on Deceit’s other side.

“Is he going to be okay?” Thomas asks.

“How the fuck should I know?” Virgil snaps. “I’m not a doctor.”

“I’ll be fine,” Deceit says. “I just need to close it.”

“What if it hit something important?” Virgil asks.

“Oh, please,” Remus says. “I’m not an amateur.”

Virgil and Thomas both startle at the reminder that Remus is here. Deceit sighs.

“If you find me something to stitch this with, I’ll tell you everything,” he says to Remus.

Remus hurries out of the room, and Deceit stumbles to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asks.

Deceit staggers to a chair, pushed against the side of the wall, and sits down in it. Virgil hurries over to press the hoodie against the wound again.

“It’ll be easier to stitch it like this,” Deceit says.

“Stitch it, right.” Thomas sounds faint. “Because that’s what we’re doing.”

“It’s what I’m doing,” Deceit corrects, waving Virgil away. “I don’t trust you with a needle.”

Virgil is reluctant to let go of the hoodie, until Deceit begins to peel his shirt off. He drops his shirt to the floor, next to Virgil’s blood soaked hoodie – he’ll have to help Virgil get the stains out of it later. When he looks up again, Thomas and Virgil are staring at him in horror.

“What happened to you?” Thomas asks.

Deceit glances down at his chest, and then shrugs. Most of the wounds he’s received are from accidents, or training, or times when the target decided to fight back. Those are the smaller scars, though, and Deceit has a feeling Thomas and Virgil are looking at the big ones. The ones that only happen when someone knows what they’re doing and wants to make it hurt.

“Business,” Deceit says.

“That’s a shit explanation,” Virgil points out.

“DeeDee got caught a few years back,” Remus says from the doorway, where he is now standing. He’s found a needle and thread somewhere – most likely something he brought with him.

“And they did that to you?” Thomas asks, choked.

Deceit glances at Remus, who shrugs, looking as confused as Deceit feels. “It was a long time ago.”

That doesn’t seem to make Thomas or Virgil feel any better, so Deceit takes the needle and thread from Remus and busies himself with stitching his wound. Thomas makes a strange, choked noise, but Deceit chooses to ignore it.

Remus is able to keep quiet until Deceit is almost done, when he blurts out, “Okay, seriously, what the fuck? You guys know he wants to kill you, right?”

It’s a fair point. Deceit looks up at Thomas and Virgil to see what they have to say to it.

“We got that after the first couple of assassination attempts,” Virgil mutters.

“But he hasn’t,” Thomas says. “And I don’t think he really wants to.”

“I don’t,” Deceit agrees. He finishes the last couple of stitches and ties it off.

“What, did you suck his dick or something? Cause if so, you must have been really good.”

Thomas turns bright red at that. Deceit avoids making eye contact with him.

“It’s not like that,” Deceit says quickly. “It’s-” Deceit hesitates, uncertain what it is like. “He’s my friend,” he finishes, though that doesn’t quite fit.

Remus pulls a face. “Gross.”

“This doesn’t change anything, does it?” Thomas asks. “I mean, even if you decide not to kill me, they’re just going to keep sending more people, right?”

“Then we go into hiding or something,” Virgil says, glancing at Deceit desperately.

“It would be difficult,” Deceit says slowly, “But not impossible.”

“And what happens to you two?” Thomas snaps, gesturing at Remus. Deceit doesn’t answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Maybe we should just- get on with it.”

“Absolutely not,” Deceit snarls.

“You just got stabbed. He could have killed you! He could have killed Virgil! I’m not- I can’t just let you guys get hurt for me.”

“Too bad,” Virgil hisses. “Because we’re not leaving.”

“Um,” Remus says, “Do I get to make a suggestion?”

“No,” everyone snaps.

“Alright, fine. I mean, I was gonna suggest we stop the contract, but sure, don’t listen to me.”

Wait.

“Stop the contract?” Virgil echoes. “As in- make it so there isn’t a price on Thomas’ head anymore?”

“The Agency doesn’t just stop contracts,” Deceit points out.

“Unless the client cancels it,” Remus corrects. “Honestly, Dee, were you even paying attention to how things work?”

“Hey, that- that actually sounds like an idea,” Thomas says.

“Barely,” Deceit says. “You’re suggesting that we find the client – something which is kept secret – and then somehow persuade them into not having Thomas killed, all without the agency finding out what we’re doing and killing us.”

“Okay, well, when you put it like that,” Remus mutters.

“Do we have any better ideas, though?” Thomas asks. “Because, no offence, but the idea of spending the rest of my life on the run isn’t very appealing.”

And the thing is, Deceit doesn’t have any better ideas. In fact, he’s pretty sure he could figure out who the client is, though the Dragon would almost certainly find out about it.

“Actually, Remus might be on to something,” Deceit says.

“You just listed all the reasons why it’s a terrible idea,” Virgil complained.

“Well, yes,” Deceit says. “There’s no way of getting to the client without the Dragon finding out. But we’re not going after the client.”

“Then who are we going after?” Thomas asks.

Deceit smiles. There’s a rush of energy through his body, the same as he gets before a particularly difficult mission. “We’re going after the Dragon.”

[stillebesat]

White Lies (2/5)

Sanders Sides: Deceit, Virgil, Logan, Roman, Patton Sequel to Little Lies Blurb: Deceit has been stuck in his ‘role’ as Dilyn for almost a year now. It’s about time he changed that. Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort, Tiny!Sides Inspiration: From @yay-cats9‘s wonderful Fanart she did for Little Lies. <3 Again thank you for the artwork! I love it! Overall Fic Warnings: Deceit, Negative Self Talk, Panic/Anxiety Attacks 

To Catch Up: Chapter 1

Such a child. 

Dilyn rested his head against his knees, pressing his burning eyes against the soft fabric of the circus tent of a cape, breath hitching no matter how hard he tried to gain control of himself.

Such a fool.

Fresh tears welled, running down his cheeks as he sniffed, rubbing mucus all over his grown up uniform, shivering in the darkness. 

He’d been an idiot to believe--believe that wishing on a stupid star of Roey’s making would--would change him back. 

Some Gatekeeper, unable to tell your truths from your lies. 

And hadn’t wishing on a fake star been one of the bigger lies he’d told to the others when they were younger? 

Dilyn hunched his shoulders. He’d been a child too long. Been caught up in the act. Been--been believing that a stupid little wish would--would--

Thomas doesn’t need Deceit. That’s a Fact. 

A soft whimper left his lips as he curled up tighter. He would--would need to head back inside soon. Get---get back to bed like--like the good Dilyn was supposed to be. Not Le--let--the others--th-they couldn’t kno-know that he’d--tried--tried this stupid wishing thing. He shouldn’t--

“Dilyn?” A familiar voice asked in a low tone. “What are you doing--” 

Dilyn stiffened. Virgil. How long had he been up here?! He couldn’t see him like this!

He grabbed at the air in a knee jerk reaction to silence Anxiety. To get him to--

Idiot. 

It doesn’t work for them. 

Dilyn dropped his hand before finishing the gesture, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach.

He hadn’t been able to silence the Big Four since--since---

Dilyn whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.

Powerless.

Some Gatekeeper. 

Useless. 

“Dee?” 

There had been a time when the barest hint of being willing to silence him would have sent Annie fleeing from Deceit’s presence. 

Some Gatekeeper. 

Dilyn choked back another sob, burying his head deeper into the folds of his cape. Those days were long gone. Annie rarely cowered since he’d joined the Light Sides. Since he’d been accepted by Thomas.

Thomas will never accept you.

You’ll be a child forever. 

He tensed as Virgil sat down next to him. Why was he still here? Annie didn’t care about him. He only went along with disguising himself as Deceit in order to protect Thomas from the Others. He should be back downstairs celebrating the New Year with Roey, Morey, and Logie. 

He should be celebrating that Deceit wasn’t there to terrorize and ruin the night. Ruin another year. 

“You remember when we used to come up here as kids?” Annie asked as the banging of pots and pans below finally faded away. 

Dilyn’s breath hitched, his fingers digging into the tent that was his cape. “No.” He lied, gritting his teeth to keep himself from saying more. If he didn’t talk to Annie then he would have no reason to stay and would leave him alone. 

Virgil scoffed, tapped his fingers against the boards. “I’m surprised.” He remarked. “You were the one who brought me up here when we were…what? Five?” 

Five? No. He’d tried to do so back then, but Annie had been far too entrenched in the subconscious to convince him that year. “Six.” He whispered. 

It had been a nightmare getting the darkling up here. Each step had taken an eternity to take because Anxiety had been convinced that every shifting shadow was one of the Big Three descending on them to banish them back into the subconscious away from Happy Little Thomas. 

“That was the first year I saw Creativity’s Star.” Virgil shifted, his arm brushing Dilyn’s as he settled more comfortably against the bars of the balcony. “You told me that if we wished hard enough, whatever we wished for would come true.”  

Foolish. 

Such Naivety.

Dilyn sniffed, rubbing his nose against his cape as he reluctantly lifted his head, resting his chin on his knees as he watched the last sparks of the star vanish. “I lied.” He whispered. Because that was what he--what Deceit did. Lied. Again and again and again. Telling the others what they wanted to hear, telling them what would give them hope because he too had been foolish enough to believe that they wouldn’t always be in the dark. Always be in the subconscious. 

He knew better now. 

Annie huffed a laugh, his tense shoulders relaxing as he slid down the banister, his head now more on level with Dilyn’s. “I don’t think you did. At least not as much back then. I mean, you wished on it too.” 

It didn’t work back then either. 

Dilyn choked on a sob, scrubbing roughly at his eyes. He’d known better back then, why had he--

Some Gatekeeper.

He’d been little too long, gotten sucked into the delusions children easily believed. “Imma fool. Wishes no come true.” 

“Not all of them no.” Annie looked down, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. “And the ones that do...don’t always…” He licked his lips, shrugging a shoulder. “...they don’t come true when we want them to, but when the time is right.” 

When the time was right? When the time was RIGHT? He vividly remembered telling that same stupid sentiment to Annie right before he’d left them for the light sides. And now Annie, no now ANXIETY of all people had used those words to defy Deceit. To leave despite Deceit’s strong argument otherwise. And it had worked for him. It had WORKED and---not--not---

You’ll never be liked by Thomas. Admit it. He hates you. You’re no Virgil. You don’t get redemption. You get to be a freaking CHILD. 

“NEVER.” Dilyn practically spat the word, tearing his too large hat off his head and flinging it at the balcony door. 

Never.

Thomas will NEVER like you.

You failed.

Some Gatekeeper. 

His eyes burned as fresh tears streamed down his cheek. “Never. NEVER. NEVER COMES TRUE! IT NEVER--” 

Dilyn turned shoving his face into Virgil’s side, unable to keep it together anymore, he sobbed harder, clinging to Annie’s hoodie like the helpless pathetic child he was. “Nevernevernever.” “Whoa--whoa. Hey.” Annie wrapped an arm around him, holding him close. “Dee--” 

“It’s Dilyn.” He bitterly corrected. He would always be Dilyn. He was nothing else to Thomas now. Not after a year! “Deceit’s gone. Powers bye bye. All unwant--”

Virgil inhaled sharply, holding Dilyn closer. “You’re lying.” 

Lying?

LYING!

Dilyn growled, shoving away from Annie’s side. “I STILL SMALL!” He yelled, pushing to his feet, gesturing at himself. “I HERE A YEAR, VEE AND I STILL SMALL. TOMMY DOESN’T WANT ME. DOESN’T NEED ME.” He glared at Virgil, stomping his foot. “HOW IS THAT.” His voice cracked. “LYING?!”

“Hey.” Vee sat up, pulling him back into a tight hug, rocking him back and forth “Hey. No. Dee. No. It’s not like that.”

How could he believe that? HOW? 

Dilyn whimpered, digging his fingers into Virgil’s jacket, shivering as the wind picked up, easily sending a cool gust through his oversized clothes. “Tis too.”

“It’s not. You don’t think….” Vee exhaled, rubbing his back. “That me wishing the same stupid wish every year was...pointless? You don’t think after ten years I had stopped believing Thomas would ever accept me? That all my work was for nothing?”

But it hadn’t been. Virgil had been accepted. His stupid wish had come true. 

He’s better than you. Of course it would come true. Thomas likes him. 

Vee, squeezed him, running his fingers through his hair. “Your wishing isn’t pointless. You will be yourself again, Dee. You’ll...grow up. Thomas will...will learn to--”

Learn to what?

Get rid of you. That’s what. Thomas doesn’t need Deceit anymore.

 The lump in his throat grew bigger. Dilyn pressed his face harder into the hoodie. “He loves me.” He choked out.

“He hated me too.” Virgil said softly. “You know that.” 

Yah. So? 

“But look how that’s changed in the past year.” 

Dilyn huffed a bitter laugh, curling up in Vee’s lap. Sure. Annie had changed a lot. Revealing his name, upgrading his clothes, changing the Big Three into the Big Four with the others accepting him as necessary to Thomas’s functions. But that was different. “That...you.” He whispered. “You...liked. All Tommy’s fans like you.” He’d seen the feedback in the videos. Seen the fans wanting Virgil to be loved by the others. The fans had loved Anxiety from the very beginning. While Deceit--Deceit--had-- “I’m...I just…” He raised a hand to his scaled cheek.

Hated.

Scorned. 

What more did you expect from a Dark Side?

Only pure evil would pretend to be Morality.

You’ll never be liked by them.

Ever. 

They hate you.

They always will.

Virgil pressed his warmer hand against Dilyn’s, rubbing his thumb gently against his scales. “You’re doing what I did when I first showed up.” He said. “Making a bad first impression. Thomas will come around. More of his fans will come around. I mean...you’ve convinced us as Dilyn that you’re not that bad of a guy. It just takes--”

He groaned, jerking his head away from Vee’s hand. “Time.” He practically spat, fingers clenching on the drawstrings of his hoodie. It just takes time. Just a little more time. Another day of being small, another month of being a child. None of the others had been small for this long though! How did they know anything? “How. Much. Longer. Vee?” He demanded. “How mucher more?” He sniffed, rubbing his nose against the cape. “I small a year! I wanna…” Dilyn dropped his voice, “I wish….”

Let Deceit Rise.

Just let me be…me. 

Virgil reached out resting his hand against the scales one more, a small smile playing on his lips as Dilyn leaned into his touch. “That you were big? That you were Deceit again?”

He flinched, ducking his head. “It’s dumb.”

Virgil gently lifted his chin back up to meet his eyes. “I don’t think so.”

Truth. 

Why--Tears again filled his eyes. “But you should.” He whispered, voice trembling. “I do.”   

Vee exhaled, chewing on his bottom lip, dark eyes searching Dilyn’s.

Dilyn frowned, fidgeting under Annie’s stare. “What?” He finally snapped, poking him in the nose, unable to take the scrutiny.

Virgil wrinkled his nose, pulling back out of Dilyn’s reach. “Nothing.” He huffed, shaking his head. “No, you thinking something. What?” 

“Just…” Virgil shrugged. “Your role as Dilyn. Maybe...it’s time to end it.” 

End it? Dilyn scoffed. END IT? He could only end it if he was BIG again. And that was NEVER going to happen. He was powerless. ”Why? All clear. I small. Forever. The End.”

“Well…” Virgil moved him off his lap “I was thinking that I can’t make you big again, Dee.” 

Dilyn rolled his eyes, hugging himself in an effort to stop shivering. “Duh, Annie.” He grumbled. If any of the others could have made him big again they would have already done it! It wasn’t like the Big Four actually wanted him around. They were just tolerating him to protect Thomas from the others. 

Some Gatekeeper.

“But.”

Dilyn looked up, frowning as the night sky behind Vee seemed to waver. “But?” 

Virgil smirked, raising his own hand in a similar gesture to Deceit’s silencing one, the inky darkness behind him surging forward as he completed the movement to engulf Dilyn in pitch blackness before he could blink. “You can still be Deceit.”

To Be Continued Chapter 3

Taglist in Reblog

[imlovethomassanders]

Destined - Chapter 5 (FINAL)

You can also read on ao3

Thanks so much to everyone who has stuck around for the whole thing! I hope you enjoy this last chapter!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Summary: Damien never wanted soulmates. When his fifteenth birthday came, he prayed he wouldn’t receive a “hint” - a way soulmates are connected to help find each other. And to Damien’s horror, the universe gives him multiple soulmates. He’s determined to not let them find out about them. He wants to let them live in ignorant bliss and not force them to deal with him. As Damien grows older, he moves away and goes to college - He even manages to find a boyfriend that he chose himself, and Damien tells himself that he’s happy. But on Damien’s twentieth birthday, the universe gives him and his soulmates another hint - and this one is not one Damien can avoid.

Pairing: DLAMP

Warnings:Abusive romantic relationship (physically, sexually, and verbally), past physical parental abuse, sex and alcohol mentions,  general angst (but happy ending)

Words: 3030

Taglist:

@touchstarvedvirgil

@lamp-calm-sanders

@ninjago2020

@confinesofpersonalknowledge

@secret-novelisthost18

@phander-sides

@sherlock-lives-on-bakerstreet​

@fortheloveofvirgil​

@what-up-dudesss

@roxiefox24

@stan-logan-you-cowards

Damien pushed an actor out of the makeup room and huffed as he closed the door. Finally, it was the last scene of the last performance. He allowed himself to lean against the door and take a breath. He was the one person in charge of makeup and the director decided to cast a musical with thirty actors. He was exhausted. But he knew he couldn't relax just yet.

He heard the final number begin to play and he went to pack up all this things before the actors rushed in. As soon as he packed his bag and hit it under the bench so no one would mess with it, the door swung open and the room was filled with actors, all buzzing with excitement.

"Damien, can you wash the gray out of my hair?" "Damien, I can't get my eyeliner off." "Damien, is there any makeup still on my face?" "Damien, do you have a hairbrush I could borrow?" "Damien, I need more makeup wipes."

"Brush it out with this first and then I'll come back to you to get the last of it out." "Here, use this instead. It's specifically for eye makeup." "There's a little under your jawline." "There's one on the end of the counter." "Here, I have plenty more."

When things finally relaxed, he found where Roman was sitting and collapsed on the bench next to him.

Damien was not particularly pleased with how much time he's had to spend lately with the eccentric Thespian. With dress rehearsals and performances the last week, Roman and him have had to see a lot of each other, which was the opposite of what Damien wanted. But the theatre came first, so Damien sucked it up and did his job.

"Thanks for all the help these last few nights," Roman said as he wiped makeup from his forehead. Damien grunted.

"Thanks for actually knowing what you're doing and not requiring my assistance every damn second."

Roman laughed.

"Seriously. I swear, you were the only person who paid attention at my base makeup demonstration. Everyone else was bothering me to help them."

"You're incredible."

Damien prayed that he wasn't blushing.

"...You still have makeup on your neck and side of your face," Damien noticed and he reached for another makeup wipe. He placed his other hand on Roman's face and started removing his makeup, which wasn't unusual. He helped plenty of other actors remove their makeup, especially the men who weren't used to wearing it. But then he noticed the sly way Roman was looking at him. Roman gently took Damien's hand that was holding his cheek and kissed his palm. Damien scowled at him and hit him in the face with the makeup wipe before finishing.

Roman waited for Damien to finish helping the other actors to get them to leave and helped him clean up the makeup room, and the two were finally able to leave. Once the two made it to the lobby, the other three rushed to them to congratulate them. When Damien was complimented on the special effects makeup he did, he brushed them off. He still didn't know how to respond to compliments.

"Damien, we usually go out after Roman's performances," Patton explained. "But if you really don't want to, we can just head back home."

Damien could tell Patton was just making the offer to be polite. He knew the four of them really wanted to go out. Damien really didn't want to, but he knew he should since they were letting him stay in their apartment, and he didn't want to become such a burden on them.

"I don't care."

And that's how Damien found himself at iHop, squished in a booth between a window and Roman. Apparently, iHop was a theatre kid tradition, since they saw plenty of other actors there.

Patton sat on the other side of Roman while Logan and Virgil sat across.

Damien spent most of the time just staring out the window, ignoring the conversation and the food Patton had ordered for him. That was until Roman said his name.

"Hm?" Damien hummed as he turned towards them.

"I asked how you got into theatre. Did your parents take you to a show when you were young? That's how I got into it."

Damien grimaced.

"Um... no. I just discovered some cast recordings in middle school and watched a lot of bootlegs."

"Oh. Well, what was your first show? Mine was The Sound of Music."

"I haven't had the chance to see a musical live outside of school performances."

Roman's eyes widened.

"Well, I can't allow that! I am always a seasonal ticket holder at the regional Orpheum, and starting today, you will always be my plus one. The Lion King is coming next week."

Damien's heart leaped. That sounded so incredible. But...

"That's a very nice offer, Roman," Damien said as he turned his attention back out the window. "But I'm afraid that won't be necessary. I'll be gone soon."

Roman's smile disappeared and he looked at the others, but they didn't know what to say.

"Come on, Dee. At least let him take you to The Lion King," Virgil said.

"But don't feel pressured to!" Patton quickly added.

"...We'll see."

That wasn't a definite no, so the they relaxed a bit as they continued their conversation.

But they didn't let Damien go again. They kept asking him questions to keep him engaged, and somehow, Damien found himself not hating it. He tried his best not to show it, though.

Once Patton finally got Damien to laugh at one of his jokes, he gave Damien a soft smile that he hoped let him know that he belonged here. He fit with them, they wanted him.

Damien glanced away from Patton as his throat tightened.

Damien tried to keep a balance of distancing himself while also not being terribly rude to his helpers, but he was failing miserable. Whether it was Roman sweeping him into a dance mirroring the one playing on the current Disney movie, or Logan reading to him to calm him down, or Patton dotting cookie dough on his nose when he helped in the kitchen, or Virgil lounging beside him and showing him just, just like they used to - whatever it was, Damien found himself entranced.

Besides, what's the harm of indulging himself a bit before they inevitably get sick of him?

Damien had just been watching a movie, when the next thing he knew there was a pillow fort being built around him by Roman and Patton. And now he was lying on the floor between the others.

His phone dinged, and when he checked it he saw it was a confirmation email from an apartment complex saying his background check was cleared and that he could come down and try to work out paperwork.

"Are you okay, dear?" Roman asked from his direct left.

"I'm leaving soon," Damien said as he  put his phone back in his pocket.

They all froze, and Damien couldn't stand the tense silence that fell over them.

"Why, sweetie?" Patton asked, pain evident in his voice.

"It will be better that way."

He didn't expect them to understand yet, but once he's gone they'll realize how much better it is when they don't have to deal wit him.

Virgil placed a hand on Damien's right arm and Damien went to move his arm out of Virgil's grasp, but when he saw Virgil's hurt eyes gazing up at him, he let Virgil wrap an arm around his.

"I just got you back," Virgil whispered as tears welled in his eyes. He quickly ducked his head onto Damien's shoulder to hide his face. "You can't just leave again."

"Talk to us, Damien," Logan said as he sat up from his spot on the other side of Roman. "Tell us what we can do to help."

"There's nothing you can do," Damien said, trying to ignore the wet spots forming on his shoulder.

"Please, what's troubling you, darling?" Roman asked.

"Nothing you can fix."

"Let us try."

"I can't let you do that."

"Damien, please," Patton cried. "Let us help you-"

"Stop." Damien snapped. "Just stop. If I stay, you're just going to get sick of me. You're going to find out how awful I am to have around, and I don't want to be here when you finally realize how unlovable I am."

Silence.

"Damien," Virgil said with a shaky breath. "You were an asshole when I first met you, and yet you still managed to make me fall in love with you..."

Damien's eyes widened.

"Who did this to you?" Roman whispered. "Who was so evil that they tricked you into believing such lies?"

"No one tricked me," Damien muttered. "It's just the truth no one has ever loved me before. Not even my own mother. Not until Jackson, at least. But you four are adamant he never really loved me."

"You don't hurt the people you love," Roman said defensively. "We can't let you think that's how love is supposed to be."

"Well, there you go," Damien snapped. "Everyone I've ever loved never loved me back."

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sure someone-"

"No, Patton," Damien interrupted. "My mother literally tried to kill me. All my foster parents abandoned me. None of my classmates liked me, my teachers hated me, my counselors gave up on me. No one has ever loved me."

"You're mother did what?" Patton whispered as he sat up, all four of them staring at him in horror. Virgil tightened his grip on Damien's arm.

Damien groaned as he ran his hands down his face.

"Look, it'll just hurt all of us if I stay. You'll understand in time."

"No, no, sweetie, wait," Patton said as tears welled in his eyes. "Please don't leave, we-"

"I love you," Virgil whispered into Damien's shoulder. "I don't expect you to say it back, but I want you to know I love you. Every part of you."

"A troubled past does not diminish one's self worth," Logan said.

"I know we haven't known you as long as Virgil has," Patton said through tears. "But we care about you so so so much."

"Damien beloved, darling, dearest," Roman said gently as he raised a hand to cup Damien's cheek. "More than anything, we want you to be happy. But know that we want you here, with us, in our relationship and our lives. We know it won't always be easy, but we want to work it out with you. For you, dear, anything."

"...No," Damien whispered as he gently moved Virgil off of him. "No, no, no. This can't happen."

"Damien, what-"

"I didn't know how much I had fooled you already," Damien interrupted Virgil as he sat up. "I can't let myself deceive you into thinking I'm good for you."

"No, Damien, wait!" Virgil cried as Damien stood up. Virgil reached for his wrist but caught himself, and Damien locked himself in the bedroom.

Damien didn't let himself see the others at all over the next few days. He responded to the email to set up an appointment time. Everything would be resolved soon.

As Damien quickly walked out of the campus building, he checked his phone for the time. If he hurried, he could get back to the apartment before the others do.

He cut through a student parking lot when he heard a familiar voice.

"Damien!"

Damien didn't even look behind him before he started running, but it wasn't long until there was a hand around his wrist and he was being pinned against a van.

"Where have you been, Damien?" Jackson asked. "I've missed you."

His grip grew tighter.

"You have to come home, Damien. I-"

Damien kneed Jackson's stomach, used that brief moment that Jackson let go of him to try to run, but Jackson quickly grabbed Damien's wrist again and slammed Damien back against the van, slapping his face before grabbing Damien's hair.

"You're really trying to run away from me again Damien? You really want to get in trouble, huh?"

Damien felt tingling on his arm.

"What's going on here?"

Damien looked over to see Patton and his face paled as fear shot through him. He couldn't let Patton get hurt. Oh, god, Patton was going to get hurt and it was all his fault-

"Who are you?"

"A friend. Now I'm going to have to ask you to let go of him."

"Look, you really need to mind your own business and leave before I-"

"Patton!" someone yelled. They heard heavy footsteps running towards them before Roman came into view. "I saw your message," he said, holding up his right arm.

It was very unnerving to see the usually very happy and excited Roman now look very intimidating and very, very angry.

"Let go of Damien. Now."

"So these are your soulmates?" Jackson laughed as he pressed his arm against Damien's throat. "What happened to not wanting anything to do with them?"

"I said let. Him. Go." Roman said as he walked towards Jackson. Jackson threw Damien behind him and Damien hissed in pain as his hands made contact with the concrete. In his peripheral, he saw Patton duck behind a car. Jackson shoved Roman away from him, but Damien's view of the fighting was soon blocked by Patton kneeling in front of him.

"You're okay. It's okay," Patton assured him. "Deep breaths. There you go. You're doing great."

Patton gently but quickly got Damien to stand up to lead lead him away.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jackson called out. Damien whirled around and quickly blocked the punch that was heading towards Patton's face. Patton yelled out as he caught Damien who staggered back. Roman quickly kicked the back of Jackson's knees and pinned his arms back once he fell.

And that's when Logan and Virgil ran over with campus police.

Damien collapsed onto the couch once they got home. Explaining what happened to the officers took longer than he liked. Of course Jackson tried to defend himself, but once they checked the parking lot cameras, he didn't have much of a case. Roman's attack on Jackson was ruled as self defense, and Jackson would be charged accordingly. It was then agreed that Damien would get a restraining order.

Virgil came to sit beside him as the others whispered in the kitchen.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Virgil said. "...I'm so sorry."

"What for?"

"That you had to deal with that monster for so long."

Damien didn't say anything. But when Virgil opened his arms, Damien hesitated only for a second before falling into them.

"They put themselves in harms way for me," Damien whispered as he looked at Roman and Patton. Roman was being dote on by Patton over his acquired scrapes and bruises, and Damien was sure that Patton would do the same to him, too.

"Of course they did," Virgil said softly. "...Are you still thinking of leaving?"

Damien sat up from Virgil's arms, and worry flashed over Virgil's face.

"Because you know we won't stop you from leaving, but we're worried that you don't realize how much we care about-"

"No," Damien whispered.

"Huh?"

"I'm not leaving. I don't think I could even if I wanted to."

A large grin grew on Virgil's face and he opened his mouth to say something but paused when Damien placed a hand on his cheek.

The two gazed at each other for a moment, and then Damien kissed Virgil.

Kissing Virgil was so much softer than Damien ever imagined kissing someone could be. Virgil's arms wrapped securely around Damien's waist, and Damien felt safe.

They parted and gazed at each other, but only for a moment before they both leaned forward to reconnect their lips. Virgil made Damien feel cared for, adored, loved. Tears fell down Damien's cheeks as he placed his other hand on Virgil's other cheek and pulled Virgil closer, desperate for as much contact he could get. He couldn't think of a time before when he was handled so lovingly.

The next time they parted, Virgil gingerly wiped the tears from Damien's cheeks.

"I love you," Damien whispered. Virgil's eyes widened but a soft smile graced his face.

"I love you, too."

He leaned in for one more gentle kiss that made Damien's cheeks grow even more red.

When they separated for the last time, Virgil looked behind them and smirked to see a beaming Patton and a blushing Logan and Roman.

"Come here," Damien pleaded, and they quickly came and joined them on the couch, Roman sitting on his right side with Logan by Virgil and Patton by Roman.

Damien pressed a kiss on Roman's jaw where a bruise was forming.

"Thank you," Damien whispered. "All of you."

"Of course, my angel," Roman murmured as he kissed the top of Damien's head.

"Does this mean you're staying?" Patton asked, trying and failing to hide the hope in his voice.

"Yes," Damien said as he curled into Virgil's side. "If you'll have me. You all make me want to try."

"Of course, sweetie," Patton cooed as he reached over Roman for Damien's hand.

Damien soon moved onto the couch, insistent that he's been hogging the bedroom for far too long. But it wouldn't be that much longer before he moved into the bedroom with them.

First kisses would soon be shared between Damien and Patton, then Roman, then Logan, and later then the first "I love you"s. But it wasn't always easy. On the road to recovery, Damien sometimes found himself take a few steps back. He'd get angry and lash out, or say something he'd regret. Sometimes the others argued back, and sometimes they'd accidentally make Damien flinch. But they always ensured that things ended okay. None of them liked to fight, and any disagreements would quickly bubble down and end with what Patton called the "cuddle puddle."

Damien was happy, he was safe, and he was loved - things he used to never imagine for himself. And for the first time, he was certain he was where he needed to be.

Thanks so much to everyone who hung around for this whole thing! And thank you so much for the kind words, it means a lot!

[scarlet-nin]

I'm Not An Idiot (But I Think You Are)

@ilyiccia I used your second prompt on your 50 Tua writing list!

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves

Prompt: Diego tried to hide an injury once. He failed pretty miserably.

Set in: Childhood. They're twelve.

Out of all people in the house, of course, it had to be Klaus who found him.

Anybody else would’ve been better. Hell, he’d rather have Luther here than Four, because Number One was obvious and somewhat dense enough to fool when one knew how to push his buttons correctly, something Diego couldn’t resist on a good day, let alone a bad one.

But no. It had to be Klaus, who even with his head lost in the clouds, could see through a lie with little to no effort. Diego’s half-convinced his brother’s secondary power is a bullshit radar. There’s no other explanation for the way that cloudy, glassy green gaze would sharpen and clear up from the fog of weed in the blink of an eye.

A bit creepy for Diego’s tastes, but he guessed that was a buy-one-get-one-for-free kinda deal with Klaus’ powers. Seeing the dead couldn’t be sunshine and rainbows. At least, he stopped writing all over his walls like Five with his disturbing poems.

Another reason those two got along. The only person to ever catch Five in a lie aside from their Dad, who thankfully was currently absent and, on a trip, far away from their house—had been Four.

Five hadn’t even gotten mad about being caught. The weirdo seemed oddly pleased. At least, Diego didn’t have to worry about running into him nowadays, since he rarely left his room.

Small mercies, he supposes, do happen occasionally.

“What’s up with the sunglasses?”

Diego shrugs. “They block out the light.”

Klaus blinks. “But we’re inside the house.” He glances pointedly upwards at ceiling. “There’s no sun in here.” There’s the faint smell of herbals and smoke lingering in the air as Klaus steps closer.

Resisting the urge to step back, he’s not going to give up ground, Diego crosses his arms.

“I got a headache and the light’s stings like a bitch in my eyes. Got a problem with that?”

“Uh huh,” Klaus hums agreeably, wrinkling his nose. “Did you tell Mom about your headache?” He emphasizes the last word with bunny ears, a grin forming on his lips.

“No,” Diego says, too quickly, too defensively. “I don’t wanna worry her. It’s nothing.”

“Au contraire!” Klaus sing-songs, taking another step forward. “There’s something you’re not telling me. C’mon, give me the gossip and I promise I won’t laugh at you.”

For all that he’s basically a second lie detector, Klaus lies an awful lot himself. Takes on to know one, Diego guesses, shaking his head.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” Klaus blocks his attempt of walking past by throwing an arm out and moving into his way. “Is it embarrassing?”

“Go away, Klaus,” Diego groans, rubbing at his forehead. Christ, where’s a scary ghost when he needs one? Though, he immediately feels a bit bad for the thought as soon as it crosses his mind.

“Not until you tell me.”

“Be annoying somewhere else.”

“Tell me, tell me, tell meee,” Klaus whines. “Did you fight with Luther again?”

“No.”

Klaus falters at that, squinting at him. Diego waits in silence, refusing to fidget under the heavy stare. Silence never meant anything good with his brother. After a minute, Klaus straightens up, no longer slouching as a frown finds a way onto his face.

Oh, shit.

“You know, that’s a very nice pair of gloves you’ve got on your hands,” he says, nonchalantly if it weren’t for the narrowing of his eyes. “Leather, that’s so kinky, Diego. Very you. Now, wanna fess up and tell me what trouble you got yourself into or should I bother Mom into checking up on you?”

Diego bristles, “Klaus, don’t you dare—“

His brother response by taking in a deep breath, opening his mouth most likely to scream the house deaf. Darting forward, Diego presses a hand over his mouth, shushing him quickly.

“Alright, alright!” He hisses, glancing around the empty hallway. “You win, okay? Shout for Mom and I’ll toss you out the window, got it?”

He pulls his hand back, wincing at the wetness on his gloves. “Gross, man.”

“Says the guy who eats raw eggs for breakfast.” Klaus shudders before reaching out to grab Diego’s hand. “Let’s go to my room.” He starts dragging Diego down the hall, ignoring the protests.

“Why yours?”

“Because nobody dares to come in without knocking. Not after Luther accidently caught me changing into a near pair of clothes last week, remember?”

Oh, he does. Luther’s horrified yell could have been heard from Five’s room. It had taken him three days to look Klaus in the eye again.

Needless to say, when Klaus actually closes his door for once, nobody dares to open it. An understandable sentiment. People don’t open pandora’s box either.

Diego doesn’t resist as Klaus pushes him into his room, kicking the door close. He gets shoved to sit down on the bed and Klaus’ hands gently remove his sunglasses without permission.

“Hey—”

Klaus’ whistle cuts him off. “Woah, that’s a nice shiner there, Dee. Wanna tell me who gave it to you?”

“Why?” Diego snorts. “You’re gonna beat them up for me?” He gives Klaus a critical once over, dragging his gaze up and down with a smirk on his face.

“No.” Klaus slaps him on the shoulder, huffing out an annoyed sigh. “My face’s too nice to end up like yours. Doesn’t mean I can’t scare them by telling them their dead granny hangs around to haunt them or something.”

Oh. Coming from Klaus, who hates using his powers, that’s weirdly touching. Swallowing past the forming lump in his throat, Diego lets Klaus take his hands into his own, gently tugging them off to inspect the bruised, bloody knuckles underneath.

“You’re sure you don’t want Mom to take a look at you?”

Diego gives him a sullen glare. “N-n-o. Don’t tell anybody. N-not even Allison. She’ll tell Luther.”

There’s a moment where Klaus simply looks at him. Open and face blank while his fingers curl around Diego’s own. He breaks the eye-contact first and when he speaks up, he doesn’t mention the stutter coming back to haunt Diego.

“Okay,” he says, taking a step back. “Hang on for a hot second and don’t run off just yet.”

Diego nods, watching him turn towards his desk. He opens the drawers, searching for something, slamming them shut with his knee after finding whatever he needs and setting that down on his desk. He leaves the room, coming back as quick as he left with a wet towel in his hand and pulls his desk chair over before sitting down.

“What are you doing?”

“Patching you up, what else?”

Diego’s brows furrow while Klaus gently rubs the blood off his knuckles. “I don’t need help.”

“You’re getting it anyway.” Klaus tosses the cloth onto his desk after he’s done. “I’m gonna wrap up your hands and you can keep the gloves, since they actually are kinda cool, but the glasses need to go.”

“No way,” Diego says, firmly. Without them his black eye would be visible for all to see. Mom would see and he couldn’t stand her smile dimming when she caught sight of it.

Klaus groans, finishing up wrapping his hands before turning to grab the things from his desk. “That’s what’s concealer’s for, idiot.” He shakes the tube in front of Diego’s face.

“I’m not going to wear make-up!” Diego attempts to sit up only for Klaus to push him back down. “That’s for girls!”

“And for boys!” Klaus grabs his chin roughly. “Especially for dumbass boys who sneak out when their Dad’s are away and then get their ass handed to them. Now, hold still and let me show you how to cover up bruises without looking like an idiot.”

Grumbling under his breath, Diego goes still.

The edge to Klaus’ voice doesn’t match his hands, who are gently applying and blending in the cream around his eye. When he turns to the brush, Diego tenses, holding back a grimace, but the pressure is soft enough on his skin he barely feels a thing.

After what feels like forever, Klaus pulls back, hands on his hips and nods. He pulls out a hand-mirror from his desk, practically shoving it into Diego’s face.

“Well?”

Diego startles, fingers coming up to brush against seemingly unmarred skin only for a hand to swat away his own. The bruise is noticeable still, but nowhere near as glaringly obvious as before. If one didn’t know where to look Diego might go as far as to say they wouldn’t even notice he got a fist to the eye at all.

He doesn’t look like a girl and guilt begins to fester.

Handing the mirror back to Klaus, he scratches at the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbles while Klaus puts his things away.

“Yeah, you should be.” Klaus pouts, the sharpness draining from his eyes, leaving them soft and warm instead of hurt and cold. “Sneaking out without me, how could you? I thought what we had was special, Diego!”

“As if you didn’t sneak out every time you thought you could get away with it.”

“I did get away with it.” Klaus is quick to correct, grinning like the cat who got the cream and the mouse. “Mostly, anyway. Next time you go out you have to promise me to take me along for the ride. That’s my payment for helping you out. I’ll even be the lookout!”

Seeing the eager twinkle in his brother’s eyes, Diego couldn’t help but agree.

“Sure, why not.”

“Great! Do remember if we run into trouble, you’re deaf and I only speak German.”

[honeycobie]

Could You Ship The Members Of The Boyz With Your Mutuals?

i got two of these asks so i combined them together and added a little description of the vibe they give off when i talk to them! i spent a lot of time on this because i love all of my cute mutuals ♡ under the cut because they’ll get super long. if i miss anyone, i’m sorry, my mind is a mess.

[sangyeon: @tbzhours​] paney is so supportive and she constantly reaches out to others to encourage them (she really reminds me of sangyeon with that)! i still remember when she first talked to me and i was shocked because i was a new blog and she had reached out to give me tips and cheer me on! not to mention, she was my first mutual so she has a special place in my heart <3

it’s like participating in a nervewracking competition and you’re so tense but you’ll suddenly hear loud cheers for you from the sideline. when you look up, you see that one person who never fails to make you smile. seeing their face makes you determined to win and make them proud, to pay them back for their limitless kindness and support.

[jacob: @atbzkingdom​] i know you ship me with him, but honestly you’re both angels? i see the both of you as more motherly figures but still extremely chaotic and silly. dee....no words describe how much i love her. if you were to ask me to describe her, i could write an essay but i wouldn’t be able to find one exact adjective. sometimes i just worry for her like please rest ;;; you’ve worked so hard and i want you to SLEEP goddamnit. 

it’s like the feeling of nostalgia. as you lie there, thinking of that one person and how much you miss them, old memories surface and you smile wistfully, allowing your mind to travel. the buzz of your phone brings you back down from your little universe and your eyes widen, heart fluttering when you notice it’s an incoming call from that exact person. 

[younghoon: @chaoticdeobi​] bea is such a softie, i love her so much :( i was debating between younghoon and hak but i went with him instead. i have to admit, reading her writings had me intimidated because damn the talent! i’m glad i reached out because i’ve found someone who i’ll never regret meeting! that intimidation reminds me of younghoon because he comes off as cold at first. however, as i continued talking to her, i laugh because i wonder why i felt intimidated in the first place because she’s just the softest bean underneath! (ok but they’re both literally the 🥺 emoji)

it’s like watching the snow fall gracefully with the person you cherish most, holding steaming mugs of hot chocolate as you allow your head to fall on their shoulder. although it’s silent, it’s never uncomfortable because you’re so close with the other person that you can practically tell what the other is thinking from their mere breaths.

[hyunjae: @heartyyjeno​] we first met through the tbz collab discord server and i was shocked because of how supportive she was? as everybody spilled in their ideas, she’d just keep on bringing in compliments and i love her for that. hyunjae and alesha both have a playful side as well as a sweet side and i can see them both connecting so well.

it’s like a hug when you most need it, the warmth of arms snaking around your waist as you let your tears go. gentle hands come up to brush away your tears and you can’t help but let out a shaky laugh when they pull a silly face to comfort you. their embrace is so comforting, it lulls you to sleep. if you were to describe this hug in one word, it’d be home. 

[juyeon: @juyeonzz​] i’m sorry qiu but i was intimidated by you too...you seemed so far up and out of my league that i didn’t dare to interact with you but i’m so so so glad i did! qiu and juyeon....both seem so intimidating? maybe it’s because resting face hehe but underneath!! they’re both the sweetest dorks! i can’t count how many times i’ve bickered with her over who loves who (i do and i take no arguments) the most and i love how we get so chaotic together.

it’s like stargazing with someone and it’s supposed to be romantic but you can’t help but burst out into giggles because it’s suddenly turned into a huge tickle fight. even though you playfully scold the other person for ruining such a lovely moment, you can’t help but think the opposite, your heart full and bursting with love as you turn your gaze back to the sky, fingers intertwining with theirs.

[kevin: @hyungseobf]: one of my oldest moots! i haven’t talked to them in a while and honestly we’re not super close but i still love them :( i ship them with kevin because they’re both so friendly and easy to talk to! also they’re chaotic and they’d absolutely vibe together. when they took a super long hiatus, i was so sad and i really really missed them. 

it’s like going through an old box of your childhood memories, feeling oddly happy as you sift through scrapbooks and photos but your hand stills when your gaze falls onto the old plushie that used to be your favourite. picking it out, you shake off the dust, as you stare fondly at its worn, dirty yet adorable face. 

[chanhee: @vernonvsblog] another one of my newest moots! she’s so kind and understanding and i know that chanhee would definitely appreciate that the most (especially since i feel like he’s someone who would want some time and space to himself)! not to mention, they’re both precious beans and i feel like they’d brighten up each others’ and other people’s days. 

it’s like being on a roadtrip, driving past forest and towns, everything blurring together. finally, the car stops at your destinated stop and you’re parked near the beach. running out, you feel so carefree, taking in the breathtaking sunset, painting the sky with vivid orange and yellow and the waves crashing against the shore, the scent of the sea carried by the breeze.

[changmin: @tbzwurld] listen, i’ve been mutuals with bee for like one day and i’m already in love like i’d sacrifice everything. this is all based off from her blog as i don’t know her that well yet but! her blog literally radiates softness and love like i can already tell that she puts her whole soul into making her blog a comfort zone for her followers. they’re both sweethearts and give off babie energy. 

it’s like watching the rain pour with headphones in, listening to soft and slow songs. you watch as it gradually clears up, the sun breaking through the dense and dark gray clouds. the glow is still weak but golden, still gathering strength and intensity but you feel so powerful at that moment, your eyes lingering on the patches of blue that start to show through. 

[hyunjoon: @aveluant1a​] yu! one of my newer moots but i still love you nonetheless. what really reminds me of hyunjoon is the talent! you’re both brimming with talent like gimme (the art, the writing....dang) and she really comes off mysterious and is like that one cool person i’m in awe of. i love how when we talk, she’s so open to many topics and she’s honestly an amazing person. 

it’s like catching a glimpse of a fawn in a forest, mysterious and practically beckoning to you as it melts away into the shadows. without thinking, you follow it and you’re taken away by the gorgeous sight of a field, the grass swaying along with the wind and you can’t help but twirl in the warmth of the sunshine, your arms spread out and your eyes closed, basking in the pure beauty of nature.

[sunwoo: @fluffytbz​] for rosie, i was thinking either sunwoo or eric ;;; but i went with sunwoo! they’re both so supportive and loving! they can be serious but goofy in a split second and i love how carefree she comes off. it feels like all my fears melt away when i talk to her and she’s basically my older sister that i can confide all my secrets in. 

it’s like cradling a rose in your hands, the petals silky smooth against the skin of your palms as you take in its fragrant scent and a smile takes over your face as it calms you down, bringing you a sense of peace. as you move to pluck it from the garden, you wince, the thorns drawing blood but it’s worth it. it is always worth it. 

summary: i’m basically in love with all of you.

[anxiouslyfred]

Love After Exile - Picking Up the Pages

Summary: Virgil loved Remus and Deceit long before they fell out. Now he’s dating Logan after beginning to recognise similar feelings. Following Virgil's rejection everyone needs some time to understand what's going on with their emotions. While Remus worries about a breakdown in His People, Deceit tries to plan a way they can fix their relationship with Virgil 

Formatting: There’s a shifting POV, anytime you see Bold starts of a paragraph then there’s been a perspective shift.

Pairings: Analogical from the start, eventual Analoceitmus

Warnings for this part: suggestive talk, heartbreak

/\/\/\/\/\ Part One /\ Part Two /\/\ Part Three /\/\Part Four /\/\ Part Five

Logan had taken the pages in the end, gathering them up from the floor to the confused hurt looks of Deceit and Remus as they tried to take in what had happened. Neither looked like they would want them back and it might actually help Virgil understand later, when he'd calmed down and started stressing over why they'd do that.

As he looked at the pages, mentally revising everything he knew of anxiety he could only hope they would help.

"As much as I can believe this was primarily for Virgil I am amenable to dating you both, as long as it doesn't cause such high levels of distress to my current partner. He's Anxiety already." he stated before leaving.

He still wasn't sure how things would happen now but only communication would help.

That was when he headed to try and find Virgil, ready to comfort and calm whatever state he'd gotten into since leaving the imagination.

While Patton was in the kitchen making some cupcakes he did mention that Virgil had asked to just spend a short time in his room which Logan was thankful for. It was also a little more concerning that the information was volunteered without him saying a word.

Logan still headed there, mentally rehearsing what could become a conversation just as emotional as the scene he'd just finished.

Inside Morality's room Virgil was stood looking over the shelves and playing with the zips on his sleeves.

"Do you want to talk it through?" Logan offered, knowing his presence was the reason for Virgil's shoulders tensing.

"Are you with them now?" he was tugging on his sleeves even more now, more uncertain and upset than Logan had seen him in the months since getting together.

The question that Logan had been hoping to avoid hearing by seeking his partner out immediately couldn't be avoided now. "Of course not. I'm with you and won't change that for anything. We can join their relationship or not but I won't do that without you, regardless of what they say or offer." He reaffirmed, walking around Virgil to be able to see his face. 

After Virgil had left there hadn't seemed to be much point to carrying on asking Logan out. Deceit and Remus had really only realised their feelings because of Virgil and not including him made everything feel empty.

Logan did basically agree that he was interested but only as long as it didn't cause his partner as much distress as it appeared to do so before leaving. They were all pretending that Logan would be the one comforting Virgil after the scene rather than one of the sides not completely caught up in the situation. Deceit just hoped they'd be allowed that little wish and there wouldn't be someone else trying to interfere.

He had enough to focus on for now though. Remus had been distraught and destructive basically wanting to blow everything to smithereens over Virgil's rejection, not understanding anything that was said or implied. With Anxiety feeling an emotional mess and Intrusive Thoughts breaking down it was all Deceit could manage to let Thomas get some small amount of sleep each night, repeating everything would be okay in a mantra that would echo through every room of the mind-space.

The thing he'd started to hope for was broken and it took a few days to really realise why, and what Virgil meant about screwing up too much for them. Deceit had literally just made a comment about the silence that they'd essentially kicked him out over when Remus asked them out with the question.

Deceit should have known that people need to be able to speak in their own time rather than pressured into it. That was why he'd use lies to protect himself and isn't silence just a full lie of omission?

Working out how to move from that understanding to a solution was the difficult part. The best thing about their failed attempt was basically that Logan's confusion all but confirmed Virgil loved them.

The question hadn't left Remus's mind, no matter what destruction he brought or how many times Roman pulled him into battle to calm down. He couldn't quiet the question the way his normal thoughts could be appeased.

After days of trying to give Virgil space, of worrying and destroying while hoping Deceit would be able to explain what neither of them understood, he barged into Anxiety's room, falling over since the door was already opening. “You're still My People right? Mine? I don't have to lose that and everything, do I?” The words tumbled past his lips, the energy of the room helping Remus say his worries since they were so prominent in his mind.

“You are the one who chooses Your People, Ree. I don't think I could change that if I wanted to.” Virgil rolling his eyes and dismissive words hurt even more and Remus was on the edge of tears. He thought Virgil liked being His People. All those reactions said he did, Deceit confirmed that.

“You – You didn't want to be My People, even before the other day?” The quiet words left him easily, just as he started trying to wriggle out of the room, not wanting to stand with the heavy thoughts in his mind.

The repeating of Remus's question ground Virgil's thoughts to a stop, aside from locking his room to slow him from leaving. Remus had always just claimed them and he loved it, but also saw it as out of their control if they were His People.

Apparently that wasn't how Creativity viewed it. “Wait, Remus. Let's rewind please?” He asked, hating the idea of upsetting his loves more than Logan said his rejection already had done.

“Oh, are we rewinding to wartime? Or maybe the plagues?” Remus seemingly bounced back from his upset but Virgil could feel the concerns bubbling over in him.

“How about just in this conversation? You've never checked if anyone you've claimed is happy being Your People before. I don't think I said anything about it when storming out but is that why you're checking now?” He was fairly certain he hadn't actually rejected them in fact but knew how the words and actions were taken.

Remus was visibly struggling, staying focused and not bringing up random thoughts in these talks was never easy, but Virgil knew if he was patient and Remus wanted to they'd work it out. “You said we hurt you, and not in a fun way and if people don't want to be My People I can just stop calling them it, or try to at least. Doesn't change who they are to me much, just makes me have to focus on my words more.”

“I'm still Your People then, and it sounds like I've hurt you similarly.” Virgil sighed. Even feeling the worries dissolve and watching Remus getting bouncier he couldn't bring himself to take back what was done. He needed to know they'd let him take his own time to share things before that could happen.

Deceit wasn't worried, merely a little unnerved by how quiet the darker side of the mind-space had been all evening. It should mean that Remus was somewhere else in the mind, but given there hadn't been any yells from the Others and Roman had the entire imagination looking like he wanted it too that didn't seem to be the case.

“He's still My People! We still have a chance! We can fix this, We Can! We Can! WE CAN!” On second thoughts, perhaps he should have enjoyed the peace while it lasted. Remus was bouncing off the ceiling and walls now he'd crashed back into the room.

Dee watched that for a moment, happy to see his partner so happy, but also trying to confirm just where he'd been to have this turn around of emotion. “So you've spoken to Virgil then?”

“Shared a bed, shared conspiracies and confirmed he is still My People. I've not lost it all with him. He's still Mine, just like You, just like Logan. My People and nobody has rejected being called it!” Translating that away from Remus's exaggerations for innuendos sake basically meant he'd been watching videos in Virgil's room all afternoon after whatever chat they'd had happened.

“Any clues over how we can fix this, or is it still up to me to come up with a new plan? I mean Roman has backed off since we told him what happened and Logan explained a little more reluctantly. You've been moping and destroying until today and it's blatantly clear that Logan will only help if we actually show a willingness to rectify what's happened.” Deceit didn't hold back his reaction to the overly cheerful denial, shaking his head and walking away, happily hearing Remus chase after to catch his hand and follow.

He would have to think through what might help but getting curled up with Remus wasn't something he'd ever argue against. He'd found Remus to be very tactile in how he expressed his love, as well as very likely to give gifts. Spending time together and just talking, complimenting each other was really how Deceit preferred to demonstrate his love, no matter how unconventional Remus's compliments could become.

Deceit had wondered about their differences in expressing love for a while and it led him to some research on love languages. He wondered, while curled up with Remus, what Logan and Virgil's love languages might be.

Shaking his head to focus back on the situation at hand, the actual one, not Remus rambling about a lot of things that hadn't actually occurred while he was with Virgil, or his hands going through Remus's hair, but the rejection and pain that strained their relationship with Virgil, Deceit found he had an idea.

Perhaps Logan would be willing to share what he knows of Virgil's love languages and they can slowly build trust while using some of that information.

/\/\/\ Part Seven /\/\/\ Part Eight /\/\/\ Part Nine /\/\/\/\

[softanxiouspatton]

Chapter Five - The First Night

Read On AO3 Here!

Genre: Fluff with a hint of past angst

Rating: Mature/13+

Pairing(s): Romantic Moceit, Familial Moxiety & Platonic Analogince (currently)

Word Count: 1,863 words

Warnings: Referenced Transphobia, Flirting, Referenced implications of past abuse and Failure of Authority (within Schools) (Please tell me if I have missed anything!)

Patton hummed, scrubbing a plate clean. It wasn't a lot of dishes since they had just moved in. (But Patton liked to stay occupied.) 

His phone buzzed and he looked over to see a message from Dee. 

"Back at the station. Situation calm. Not a scratch." 

Patton sighed in relief and quickly dried his hands. He grabbed his phone and texted back. 

"Wonderful news. I was worried about you." 

Patton giggled to himself as he left a few kisses at the end of his text. 

"No need to worry about me, little dove. Occupational hazard." 

"What if I want to worry about you?" 

Dee went silent and Patton worried about his text. When Dee finally messaged back, Patton opened the message quickly. 

"I'll make sure you don't need to worry too much then Patton." 

Patton smiled softly at the single kiss at the end of Dee's message. He sighed and messaged back. 

"Well, you've got your work cut out for yourself. I'm very good at worrying about others haha." 

"Wouldn't want it any other way little dove."

Patton giggled and suddenly heard the front door open and close. 

"Dad! I'm home!" Called Virgil from the living room. Patton smiled. "I'm in the kitchen!" He called back before messaging Dee. 

"Wonderful. Well, I'll let you get back to work now. My son is home and I have to finish cleaning the dishes. I'll see you soon!" 

"Of course. I hope his first day went well. See you later little dove. I'll message you when I get the chance." 

"Who are you texting?" Asked Virgil, setting his bag down beside the dining table. Patton slid his phone into his pocket. "Just Emile! Catching up like old times!" Said Patton, inwardly cringing at the white lie. "Oh okay." Said Virgil, going into the cupboards for a snack.

"How was school?" Asked Patton. Virgil shrugged but smiled while grabbing an apple. "It was good. Better than I expected. Logan introduced me to his friend Roman. I stopped a kid getting beat up with them." Said Virgil before biting into the apple. 

"You what?" Said Patton surprised. Virgil swallowed and shrugged, though tense. "Some kid Elliot was getting bullied for being nonbinary and Roman and Logan were defending them. I decided to help. I mean, thanks to Uncle Thomas it did work." Said Virgil awkwardly. 

"Are you saying some kid tried to attack you?" Said Patton worried. Virgil nodded slowly. "But he failed. Don't worry dad. The group quickly left after they saw they weren't going to win." Said Virgil. 

"Did you report it?" Asked Patton. Virgil sighed and shook his head. "Logan and Roman explained that most of the time, the headmaster doesn't do anything. Some of the teachers help but it's really up to us." Said Virgil nervously. Patton stared in horror. 

"No. We're not doing this again. We'll find somewhere else-" 

"Dad. Please." 

Patton softened at the look on Virgil's face. 

"I'm making friends here. Good friends. Every school is going to have its problems. Do you really want to move again? We're neighbours to your friends. We're actually closer to Uncle Thomas. You've got a job to start soon. We can't just up and move when there are problems." Said Virgil, setting the apple down and hugging Patton. Patton sighed and hugged back. "You're right kiddo… I just want you to be safe is all…" Said Patton softly. 

"I will be. Trust me okay?" Said Virgil. Patton knelt down and looked at Virgil in the eyes. "Then promise me you'll come to me when you need to. I don't want what happened last time to repeat itself, okay?" Said Patton softly. Virgil nodded. "I promise Dad." He said before hugging Patton. 

"Thank you. I love you, Virgil."

"I love you too Dad." 

They pulled apart and Patton kissed the top of Virgil's head before going back to clean the dishes. 

"Why don't you tell me about your new friend, Roman?" Asked Patton. Virgil chuckled. "Well, he's cool. He wants to organise a sleepover for Saturday but he can't have it at his house." Said Virgil. Patton smiled and hummed.

"Well, I'd like to meet this Roman. If you want, you three could possibly have one here. As long as the other two have permission." Said Patton. Virgil lit up. "Could we?" Said Virgil. Patton chuckled and nodded. "You gotta make sure your room is tidy though and if you're good, I'll buy pizza." Said Patton, looking over at Virgil with a silly wink. Virgil smiled brightly. "I will! I'll text the others! Thank you!" Said Virgil. Patton grinned. 

"Roman says that you slay." Snickered Virgil. Patton laughed. "Tell him that I say thank you." Said Patton as he finished cleaning the dishes and drained the sink.

~~~~~ 

Later, Patton found himself listening to Dee talk about his day. The two had swapped numbers once Dee messaged after his shift ended. 

"- and Remus spilt coffee over his keyboard again. I'm positive he's doing it to annoy the IT guys." Said Dee, pouring hot water from a kettle. Patton hummed, laying in bed. "Sounds like it to me." Chuckled Patton softly. 

"For sure. The dude is a good cop though. Crazy but good. But never tell him that. It'll go straight to his ego." Said Dee. Patton could hear the soft clicking of a spoon against a cup. He laughed quietly. "Well, at least you both get along." Said Patton. Dee hummed and took a sip of his drink. "Yeah. Saved my life a couple of times. Saved his life too. I guess the boss knows we work well." Said Dee. 

"But damn, he's got a heart. Most people don't see it but he does." Sighed Dee. "He's crazy but works hard. All for his little brother." Dee took another sip and Patton heard him walking. "Sure sounds like it." Said Patton. "Yeah. Strong heart. His little brother means the world to him. Doesn't know a thing about how to look after anyone or anything but he gets by." Said Dee, sitting down. 

"What do you mean?" Asked Patton quietly. Dee sighed. "Well it's not my story to tell but in short, Remus looks after his little brother. They have no parents to rely on. Been about seven years since Remus took custody I think. Rough shape they were in. They're better now though. The kid is in high school. A real good hard working boy." Said Dee, taking another drink of his drink. Patton hummed. "I'd bet him and Virgil would be good friends." Said Patton. "They would." Agreed Dee. 

"Sounds like you care a lot about them." Said Patton softly. Dee chuckled and sighed. "Yeah. I guess so." Said Dee. "Anyway, enough about my life. What are you doing?" 

Patton chuckled, snuggling into his covers. "I'm in bed silly. You finish work late." Said Patton sweetly. "Oh, you're in bed?" Teased Dee. Patton snickered. "That's what I said, officer. Is it a crime to be in bed?" Joked Patton. Dee smiled. "It is to be in bed alone." Teased Dee. Patton chuckled. "Well, then you'd have to come over because I'm cosy." Joked Patton. "Well it's your first night in your new house, why don't I spend it with you?" Said Dee. Patton blushed. "You've got work. And Virgil is sleeping." Said Patton. "So? All I have to do is bring spare clothes, be quiet and leave early. Which with the last part, I'd have to do anyway." Said Dee. Patton bit his bottom lip and stayed silent.

"You want me to come over, don't you?" Murmured Dee. Patton took a shaky breath. "... Of course, I do. But I mean, we couldn't do anything obviously because I don't want to wake Virgil…" Said Patton, quiet and rushed. ".. but you do?" Whispered Dee. "I don't know… I do know I want to sleep in your arms again…" Murmured Patton shyly.

He heard the jingle of keys on the other end of the phone. "If you want to… Say yes and I'll come over. We don't have to do anything you don't want to." Said Dee. Patton sucked in a breath. "... I wanna say yes but… Virgil…" "Patton. You're an adult, remember. You can make your own choices. Virgil doesn't need to know." Reassured Dee. Patton bit the inside of his cheek nervously before deciding. 

"Okay. Yeah. Yes. I want you to come over." Said Patton quietly. "I'll be over shortly then, little dove." Said Dee. "See you then…" Murmured Patton before he hung up. Patton placed his phone on charge before sitting up.

Quietly, he got up, left his glasses on the bedside table and padded down the stairs. He sat on the couch and waited nervously before he heard a car park up outside. Carefully, he got up and unlocked the door before he opened it after Dee knocked quietly. Dee stepped in, taking off his shoes at the door as Patton locked it back up quietly. Dee took his jacket off and hung it up before turning around.

The two stepped closer and gazed softly at the other. Patton noticed the folded spare clothes in Dee's hand. "Hi." Whispered Patton. Dee quirked a smile. "Hey." He whispered back. Slowly, Dee moved and kissed Patton gently. Patton smiled and kissed back. 

Patton took Dee's hand and guided him up the stairs. They passed Virgil's room, where Patton was thankful for the door being closed. They reached Patton's room and entered. Patton could feel his pulse racing. He had never done this before. No one he had ever been on a date with had ever come around to his house for a night. It felt exhilarating as Patton closed his door shut. 

Dee seemed to have an idea of what he was doing when he squeezed Patton's hand and set his clothes down. He began to take his shirt off and Patton couldn't take his eyes off him. The moon shone through his blinds and Patton gazed at the handsome man in front of him. He could see the scars all along Dee that he hadn't noticed before. Patton was mesmerized as Dee took his jeans off. He reached for his sleep clothes and pulled on a plain shirt and a pair of loose jogging bottoms. He moved his spare clothes to sit on Patton's dresser. 

Dee took Patton's hand again and they moved towards the bed. They got into bed and Patton made the next move. Patton kissed him passionately. "I can't believe you're actually here. In my bed." Whispered Patton as he pulled back. Dee chuckled quietly. "Well. You said yes." Said Dee, before he kissed him back. Patton hummed. He pulled back and swallowed nervously. "Wait- what about-" 

"Patton. I'll only go as far as you're comfortable with. Just relax. Virgil won't know a thing." Said Dee softly. Patton closed his eyes as Dee stroked his cheek. "Okay… just hold me for now?" Asked Patton softly. Dee opened his arms and Patton snuggled into him. He breathed deeply and found himself relaxing. 

They didn't need to do anything… 

Patton was glad he could spend his first night in his new home with Dee.

[mrsalwayswrite]

Touch My Hands and Heal Me (BuckyxOFC & StevexOFC)

So just a fun one shot to help me get over some writer’s block. I’ve had this idea in mind for awhile so I’m excited to finally get it out. 

Warnings: Some swearing, violence. 

Words: 6k

Touch My Hands and Heal Me

This was the last place Steve wanted to be on a Thursday night. Nothing against the bar itself but it had been a hellish week and all he wanted to do was relax in his suite in the Tower and pretend for 5 minutes that he was an average guy.

 Which is probably why Sam dragged his ass to this bar. 

And of course, Bucky tagged along even though he was just as exhausted. Either from a self-induced guilt trip or his belief in Steve's inability to stay out of trouble, Bucky grumbled but tucked his head down and followed silently. Jerk. 

 Sam led them down the streets of NYC to a little hole in the wall sports bar an air force friend recommended. 

 It always amazed Steve how easily people failed to notice him without the suit and shield. Walking down the sidewalk with a vintage Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap on and a brown leather jacket over jeans, no one looked at him twice. Or Bucky in a black hoodie. Or Sam in a gray Nike long sleeve and ball cap. It was nice that there was somewhat a sense of esoteric, that only on the rare occasion was he swarmed now, or perhaps people were used to him. What it truly made him realize was that most people only really saw and cared about Captain America and not Steve Rogers.  No one cared about the little guy from Brooklyn anymore. All they wanted was the glorified icon of patriotism. 

 He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, willing the tension in his head and muscles to leave. Tony and him had a long meeting with Senator Thaddeus Ross today and when it finally concluded, he fled to the gym to make use of the weight bags. He probably would be receiving a bill from Tony because of all the busted bags he left behind. The man was a genius, you would think he would have reinforced them long ago. 

 Apparently he needed a drink- according to Sam. 

 He was pleasantly surprised when he walked through the door of the bar -The Old Guys Tavern-  and found it calm. It was a smaller establishment, nestled between a BBQ restaurant and a sporting goods store on a back road. It was a sports bar with several TVs showing different games playing, framed pictures all over the walls of different famous athletes, a few framed mirrors, a jukebox in the back corner near 2 pool tables. A long bar took up half of one wall, across from it several booths and a few scattered tables near the pool tables. It was simple and felt reminiscent of how bars used to be. The lights were dim but instead of feeling like a club -no matter what Natasha said he was NOT doing that again- it gave an illusion of privacy. 

 He quickly noticed that among the 23 people already there, most were male and either middle aged or elderly, with the leaning towards those with gray hair. 

 "I thought you two would feel at home here amongst your age group." Sam quipped, scanning the bar with a smile on his face. 

 "Does that mean we need to find a kindergarten for you?" Bucky retorted. 

 Steve just shook his head as Sam laughed.

 They settled into an open leather booth, a Minnesota Vikings versus Green Bay Packers football game played on the TV across from them. 

 "You dragged our asses out here, you got first round."

 Sam narrowed his eyes at Bucky. "A'ight man, I see how it is. I try to help you have a social life and this is the thanks I get. See if I bring you out again, cyborg."

 Steve watched Sam walk up to the bar before turning to his oldest friend, seated across from him. The dark rings under his eyes only confirming how the week had affected him too. 

 "I'm fine, Steve."

 "Your face says otherwise."

 The corners of Bucky's lips turned up for a moment. "I'll be fine. It's just…" He sighed heavily, running a hand through his long, dark hair. 

 "A reminder that we're in the wrong century?"

 "Yeah...we shouldn't be here."

 "I know, Buck. I know."

 3 days ago they had attended Dum-Dum Dugan's funeral and it hit them both hard. He had been the last Howling Commando alive besides Steve and Bucky and it felt like a knife in the heart. They did not just lose a friend. It felt like the closing of a book. Another reminder of something they used to be a part of, something that they knew, was gone. Yet here they were, drowning in the murky waters of the 21st Century. 

 "Alright boys, here it is." Sam slid a glass bottle of Heineken to both of them while slipping next to Steve in the booth with his own. "You guys made plans for next week yet?"

 "Clint said we could visit the farm. Natasha and Wanda will go, I'm certain." Steve said, idly rubbing the label as the condensation dampened his finger. 

 "Vision will go if Wanda goes." Bucky snorted, taking a sip of his beer. 

 "You sure it's alright if I leave? I can tell my family that something has come up. Can't promise they won't show up at the Tower with enough food to feed an army though." Sam smirked.

 "No, you deserve to go see your family." Steve said, hoping to hide the pain in his voice. "Buck and I will figure out something." He hoped. 

 Next week was Thanksgiving, the first one Steve and Bucky would be together for since 1944. The one last year, Bucky had been in Wakanda, still working to get the trigger words out of his head. Thankfully Princess Shuri figured it out. Which reminded Steve to contact T'Challa soon to get an update -from his viewpoint- of the revisions of the Accords. Steve did not trust Senator Ross' update from earlier. That man had an agenda and clearly resented the need to keep the Avengers updated. 

 "I'll make sure to bring some of my mom's pumpkin pies back for you guys. Soon as I tell her the great Captain America ate the whole one last year, she will lose her mind."

 Steve blushed and rubbed the back of his neck at the reminder.  "I didn't realize it was to share. I thought Pepper bought it for the kitchen."

 "Hey! Don't compare my momma's home-made, award-winning pumpkin pie to some cheap-ass, store-bought kind! I should kick your ass for that insult."

 "Oh, I want to see that." Bucky deadpanned, keeping his eyes on the TV across from them. 

 Steve changed the subject before the bickering started. He knew it was mostly in good humor but sometimes it grated on his nerves. "Parker stopped by this morning to try out the new suit Tony made him."

 "You still seriously considering using him on the field? He's a kid." Sam questioned. 

 "He took out both you and Buck at the airport."

 "Alright, touché, but still. A damn kid."

 "I told Tony if he keeps his grades up and practices hard with us, I won't fight it." Steve smirked. "But if he gets hurt, Tony has to deal with Aunt May."

 That made them all chuckle. Once when Peter practiced with them, he had landed wrong and twisted his ankle. From what they heard, you would have thought Peter had lost a limb with how Aunt May berated Tony and fussed over her nephew. It had become a running joke amongst the team. 

 An hour passed, Steve and Bucky both having to take their turn buying the beers, as they chatted or just watched the games on the TVs. Everything had been going so well, which should have been a flashing beacon that something was going to happen. If this week had been any indication. 

 One of the guys who had been playing pool with a few others started their way. He was in his forties, slightly overweight, in business attire, looking like he got off work at an office and came out to grab a beer with friends.  Steve had noticed him several times over the past hour glancing their way but paid no mind. No one else had approached them or even acknowledged them. Most likely someone trying to figure out how he recognized their faces. 

 He approached the table and stared at each of them before a toothy, crooked grin appeared. Looking back over his shoulder, he called over to his friends. "It is those goddamn Avenger shits. I knew it. Coming in here like they own the place."

 "Hey, back off, man." Sam tried to keep his cool but Steve could see that the guy had gotten under his skin. "We are just here for a beer, minding our own business."

 "You know, I bet all those stunts you pull, the "world-saving" and shit, it's all fake. You pretend, keep the masses happy and feeling protected while you just live like kings off government money. Yeah…I know the truth."

 Before any of them could respond to the guy, about how very wrong he was, a new voice from the bar spoke up. 

 "Chuck, quit trying to start a fight. They could kick your ass without breaking a sweat."

 The guy -apparently Chuck- glared over his shoulder at the speaker. "Shut up. No one asked you to get involved."

 A woman probably mid twenties slid down off the bar stool she was sitting on and stalked their way. Steve can't help but watch her, feeling as if a hurricane was approaching.  Her honey blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her hazel eyes stared defiantly at Chuck. She wore a loose white t-shirt with some kind of symbol on the front and black leggings that highlighted all her curves and showed off her long legs. Combat boots and a dark leather jacket completed the look. 

 "Just cause you're still pissed doesn't mean you gotta start shit. Now, leave them alone, you're bothering them."

 "We will leave. We didn't come here to start trouble." Steve injected, glancing between the man and woman standing at the end of the table. 

 She turned slightly to pin him with a pointed look that had him regretting his words and shutting his mouth.  She turned back to the guy -Chuck- and they glared at each other for several long, awkward, tense moments before he huffed and took a step back. 

 "Bitch," he muttered but glared at her still, "probably going to let them all fuck you like the whore you are."

 As soon as the last word spewed out of his mouth, she hit him with a right hook that left him half sprawled on the table beside them. 

 "Dee, no fighting. God, girl, get out of here!" The bartender called over, clearly exasperated as he ran his hand through his white hair. 

 "Sorry, Ray." She shrugged unapologetically. Flexing the fingers on her right hand, she turned back to Steve, Bucky and Sam. "Have a good night, boys." 

 Steve watched her walk out of the bar. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Chuck get up, spitting blood on the floor, with the help of one of his friends. He looked like he wanted to say something but his friend quickly dragged him back to the pool tables. 

 Perfect. Steve was not in the mood for a fight. 

 "Think she's ok?" Bucky was staring at her retreating form also, even when she disappeared from view. He turned back slowly to meet their confused looks. "That hit...might have broken something."

 They sat in silence for a second before sliding out of the booth and heading out.

 The air had a winter's bite to it but not yet unbearable. Although it took a lot for Steve to feel really cold now. Those rare moments always brought up painful memories of icy waters and darkness. Something he prefered not to think about. 

 They managed to glimpse her before she turned down another street. Simultaneously they started to jog to catch up. Thankfully not too many people on the sidewalk stopped to stare at three huge guys casually jogging at 10pm at night in jeans. 

 "Hey yo! Dee!" Sam called out as they turned down the street.

 She stopped, slowly turning around to watch them approach with a single eyebrow raised. "You boys lost?"

 "Naw, we wanted to see if you're alright. That was quite a punch."

 Thank God for Sam's ability to always talk. Steve never thought he would be glad for that one day but right now he was. Staring at her, he felt tongue-tied.  

 She smiled, holding her hand up and wiggling her fingers. "I'm fine. Not a big deal."

 Steve could not help but notice her nails were painted a shimmery dark blue. 

 "Why did you do it?" They all looked at Bucky with his hands in his pockets as he spoke. "I mean, you didn't have to stand up for us. Hell, he has to weigh twice what you do. So...how come you got involved?"

 "I don't like bullies."

 "Ah shit, she's the female version of you, Steve." Bucky bemoaned, dragging a hand down his face.

 She giggled, the sound rich and feminine, and Steve could not help but smile in response. 

 "I'll take that as a compliment, Sergeant Barnes." 

 "Call me Bucky, please."

 "Ok, Bucky."

 "I guess you already know Steve and I." Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your name Dee?"

 She seemed to hesitate for a second, looking back over her shoulder. "Lydia."

 "Nice to meet you, Lydia. Thanks for helping out back there."

 "Oh believe me, it was my pleasure. I've been wanting to hit him for a while. I doubt Ray will let me back though."

 "Cause you hit a rude customer? I'd think you're doing him a favor." Sam snorted.

 "Ah no, I may have hit Chuck's cousin last week...broke his nose."

 The three stared at her in varying degrees of amusement and shock.

 "What? He was bad mouthing the New England Patriots. Tom Brady is my boy."

 "Shit, doll, you're something else." Bucky laughed. 

 "Thank you. Now it's lovely to meet you all but I need to go. Tootles."

 "Wait!" Steve was not sure why he stopped her except that some part of him was not ready to lose her yet. He took a step closer. "Where are you headed?"

 She raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what he was getting at. "Home."

 "Let us walk you. It's the least we can do."

 "It's not that far, I promise. I'm sure you superheroes have better things to do. I'll be fine."

 "Come on, Lydia, we got you kicked out. Let us make sure you get home safe, yeah?" Sam joined the petition. 

 She chewed her bottom lip, eyes scanning between the three of them before letting out a sigh. "If it makes you feel better."

 ----------

 When Bucky went to the bar with Steve and Sam, his expectations were to keep an eye on Steve, taunt Sam and just pretend that he had actually slept the past five days instead of pacing or staring at a wall all night. 

 Watching a beautiful dame punch a guy to defend them… this night got a whole lot more interesting. 

 The four of them walked down the sidewalk together, Steve and Bucky behind Sam and her...Lydia.

 "So, you know who we are and what we do," Sam said casually, "tell us about you."

 "Well I get into fights at bars and I watch football. I'm not that interesting."

 Bucky could not help but snort. A shared glance with Steve confirmed his own amusement.  

 "Alright. Who taught you to fight? You got a mean swing that clearly shows some training." Sam continued. 

 "My brother." She shrugged. "What were you guys doing out? I would think you'd have booze at the Tower or be more likely to go to a high-class, expensive bar instead of Ray's little place."

 "Naw, we just wanted somewhere quiet and out of the way. Besides, if we break out any booze, Tony always somehow senses it and magically appears."

 She laughed, and Bucky felt his heart lighten at the sound. 

 "Maybe we were hoping to meet someone as beautiful as you, doll." Bucky was not sure where the words came from, but for a moment he felt like the Bucky from the 40s who knew how to charm and flirt.  A forgotten piece of him buried beneath the decades of trauma endured under HYDRA'S thumb. 

 She spun around to look at him, still walking backwards with a smirk and teasing glint in her eyes. "I'm far from beautiful but I'm more than happy to pretend for you."

 He chuckled, he could feel Steve's curious eyes on him but he paid no mind. It felt good to remember this piece of him, to remind himself he was more than a damaged person, even for only a minute. "Dollface, you just gave the best right hook I've ever seen a dame throw. I'm certain that is the sexiest thing I've seen in a long time."

 Laughing, she paused momentarily to slide to his side and kiss his cheek. Her arm slipped through his and they continued walking like nothing had happened. 

 Except something had happened. 

 With her touch, it felt like all his senses tripled in intensity. Her kiss...such an innocent kiss yet it set his blood on fire and brought out a warmth in his bones that even HYDRA could not freeze out. 

 "You go around kissing strangers often?"

 She winked at Steve. "Only the cute ones."

 "She called you cute, man!" Sam laughed. 

 Bucky pretended to scoff. "Cute...I'm not cute. Take that back." He nudged her with his elbow, thankful she was on his right side. 

 "Would you prefer devilishly handsome?"

 "Hey, if the shoe fits…" Bucky shrugged, trying to keep a straight face. Steve's chuckling almost broke it. His blue eyes met her hazel and he realized he was glad they had met. She was beautiful in a girl-next-door kind of way- Cupid's bow lips, button nose, soft features. She was tall for most women, about 5' 10" even in just combat boots. Yet it was the energy around and within her that made her stand out. She felt like joy...she radiated life...there was a sparkle in her eyes that had not been tainted by the evils of this world yet. 

 "Pain in the ass also fits." Steve muttered, walking on Lydia's other side. 

 "Punk."

 "Jerk."

 She slipped her other arm through Steve's.  "I'm pretty sure 'trouble' is the best description."

 "Now that I can attest to." Sam said, leading the group. 

 They walked another block in the same formation. Lydia between Steve and himself, her arms looped through theirs. They chatted, flirted and teased easily, like they had known each other their whole lives. It was odd but Bucky was not complaining. It felt good. He found himself hoping this was not the last time they would see her. The warmth infusing itself into him from her touch was addictive. Her laughter and smiles made the darkness in his mind slowly fade. If the shared looks between him and Steve just over her head meant anything, he knew Steve felt the same way. 

 "My apartment is just down the street. You don't have to walk me to the door."

 "Trying to get rid of us?" Steve asked.

 She just laughed and shook her head. "When did I become so lucky to have three such handsome gentlemen to escort me home?"

 "When you slugged a guy to defend us." Bucky caught her eye and winked. "You're stuck with us now."

 "I'm not complaining." 

 One moment they all are laughing and talking like the best of friends. In the next moment, everything changed.

 A shot rang out.

 Bucky could feel the bullet whizz between his and Lydia's head. 

 Shit. 

 In a split second all three guys went into defense mode. Steve grabbed Lydia, shielding her with his body as he pushed her against a brick wall in a side alley. Immediately, Bucky and Sam flanked him on either side. Without a word, Bucky pulled out a pistol for both Steve and Sam, handing them over, then retrieved one for himself. He knew after this, Steve would criticize the amount of weapons on him for just a run to the bar. Bucky did not plan on sharing about the amount of knives on him additionally. He did not want to worry Steve that much. The less he knew in this case, the better. 

 His eyes scanned the nearby rooftops. The trajectory of the bullet showed the shooter was somewhere above them. At least that narrowed his search. Somewhat. On the other hand, he doubted they acted alone. Why give away their position? Did the shooter just have terrible aim? Were their others? Why the hell did this have to happen now?

 His breathing slowed, senses on high alert, eyes trained for any movement. He waited, listening intently for any sign of back-up. Quickly peeking around the corner, he noticed the side road they were on was deserted. It consisted of several closed stores on the side they had been walking on and across the street was apartment complexes. Logically there should have been someone walking around at this time. It was NYC, there was always someone awake. His eagle-eyes scanned around them, searching desperately for wherever that bullet originated from. Or for the others bound to be laying in wait somewhere around here. 

 He hated being shot at. 

 "Sniper, my ten o'clock. Apartment building, top floor, third window in." He reported, glancing behind him at the others after another peek around the side. 

 Sam faced the opposite way, keeping an eye on the other side of the alley, but nodded at Bucky's report. 

 Steve hovered over Lydia, who was crouched on the dirty ground. His eyes swept over the area and the switch from casual Steve Rogers to righteous Captain America was evident. Most likely wishing he had his shield. 

 "HYDRA?"

 "Not sure." Bucky replied, grip tightening on his pistol. Of course when they were having a great time, those bastards would show up. Damn it.  "You alright, doll?"

 "Yea...yeah." She stuttered out, still crouched underneath Steve. Her eyes were wide but clear, breathing fast but manageable. His opinion of her increased. Although she seemed frightened, she was not panicking. A reaction most common in civilians being shot at for the first time. 

 Steve spoke to Bucky. "Think you can get him?"

 "Not here."

 "Go. We got your back."

 Before he moved, a hand gripped his hoodie, surprising him. Following the hand that was holding him in place, he met her eyes. 

 "Be safe." She murmured, hazel eyes meeting his stormy blue in earnest. 

 "Just for you." With a wink, he slipped out the alley, keeping to the shadows and moved silently as a ghost. 

 It did not take long for him to get into position. He only wished he had his sniper rifle.  Climbing some rickety, metal stairs attached to the back of a store, he swiftly placed himself across from the sniper on a rooftop. If he had more time, he would have preferred to go into the apartment and silently kill the sniper, but for some odd reason he felt like he was working against the clock. 

 Breath in. 

Breath out. 

Breath in. 

Breath out. 

Breathe in.

Bang. 

 Holding the smoking pistol in the direction of the apartment, he waited. There did not seem to be any further movement.  He wondered if he should go investigate, just to confirm. God, if this was HYDRA, he did not want to leave any civilians without protection. With the gunshots fired, he figured someone would have called the cops by now. Hopefully they would be useful with the civilians.  

 Racing back across the rooftop, he flew down the stairs ready to confirm the sniper's death. It was then a new sound drifted to him…and he bolted towards it. Heart racing within his chest. 

 Please no. He begged silently. 

 He turned the corner to see where the fight really was. The sniper had only been a diversion. Something to force them into the intended alley.

 They had played right into the enemy's hand. 

 Twelve guys in all black, faces covered, made the crowded alley even smaller. One was on the ground lying still, a pool of blood growing beneath his chest. Three were cornering Sam, taking turns attacking him with batons. Six were actively fighting Steve, trying to take him down using tasers, yet they were never able to subdue him fully.  Two had Lydia between them, both gripping one of her arms each as she struggled and thrashed to escape looking like a wildcat.

 Please no. 

 Bucky threw himself into the fight, fear and rage pouring into his blood to fuel him. He tackled one of the men cornering Sam, a knife slipping in between the man's helmet and Kevlar, blood spurting from his neck. Bucky rolled off him, and in two strides jabbed a knife into the back of the knees of one of Steve's attackers. The man dropped, howling and unable to stand. Another swipe and kick brought another man under his knife, blood oozing where a kidney was. 

 "Lydia!" Steve cried, throwing one of his attackers against the brick wall behind him. 

 The two men were trying to manhandle her into a doorway but her twisting, kicking and flailing made it difficult. 

 Bucky threw his bloodied knife into the thigh of one of them. The man stumbled, almost dropping Lydia, who cried out at the harsh treatment. Before the other man could raise his own pistol, Bucky grabbed it with his metal hand and crushed the end. Pure rage filled him at the thought of them trying to take her. He punched the man, now holding the useless gun, in the side of the head with his metal arm. The man dropped like a rock. The pistol bounced on the ground when it fell from his hand. 

 In a fluid motion, Bucky yanked the knife out of the other man's thigh and kicked him in the head. The man's head rocked back further than humanly possible with a cracking sound. 

 Silence hung over the alley after Steve and Sam knocked out or killed their attackers. Bucky stood there for a long moment, surveying the carnage around him, and trying to steady his breathing. His hands shook slightly. Blood was splattered on his black hoodie and jeans. It had been so easy -too easy- to take the lives of those men. Even though he did it to protect Steve, Sam and Lydia...his hands never felt clean. Would he ever be clean? Would he always be a monster?

 "Bucky?"

 His rage evaporated at the soft whimper of his name.

 "It's ok, doll. I got you." He pulled her into his arms, away from the bodies of the men who tried to take her. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her face buried in his chest while his own arms held her close. She trembled but if it was from fear or fading adrenaline, he was unsure. Murmuring soothing words to her, he ran a hand up and down her back in comfort. 

 Why did this have to happen tonight?

 He glanced back over to see the spread of bodies on the ground, all wearing black clothing that looked vaguely military. Nothing like what HYDRA usually wore. Sam was on the phone, probably calling the fellow Avengers for clean up and to scout the area. Steve was stepping over the downed men, coming to his side. 

 "Are you hurt?"

 Bucky shook his head, his eyes scanning over his best friend. "You good?"

 "Yeah, she ok?"

 Lydia turned her head, reaching an hand out to place on his forearm. "I'm fine...thank you."

 Steve patted her hand on his arm but did not remove it. He glanced around once more before meeting Bucky's eyes. "This doesn't...these men don't seem like HYDRA."

 "I noticed. Wrong weapons and fighting tactics. More like mercenaries."

 "Mmmm." He rubbed the back of his neck before looking at Lydia, still in Bucky's arms. "They seemed pretty intent on taking you. Any reason why?"

 That question had itched at Bucky too. HYDRA would be more interested in taking himself and Steve. She had been the focus of this attack. He shuddered to think what would have happened if they let her walk home alone. 

 "No...no...I don't recognize them."

 "It was a long shot. Well I think you should stay with…" suddenly Steve's eyes widened and he recoiled. A second later, blood soaked his white t-shirt in the middle of his chest. 

 Then the sound of a muffled shot rang out in the alley. 

 Bucky glanced over to see one of the downed men Steve had been fighting, on his knees, pistol extended. He staggered to his feet and took off back on the side road. 

 "Sam!" Bucky cried, pointing to the escaping man. 

 The Falcon did not hesitate. He raced after the man, a snarl on his face, eyes determined. 

 Turning back to his best friend, disbelief clouded his mind as he saw all the blood soaking Steve's shirt. 

 No. 

 No.

 NO! 

 Steve placed a hand on his chest, a dazed look on his face as he pulled it back and watched the blood drip off his skin. Ever so slowly, he dropped to his knees, still staring at his hand. 

 "No, no, no! Damn it, Steve! NO!" Bucky moved to his side, practically ripping the leather jacket off Steve's shoulders and tearing the t-shirt in two to see how extensive the injury was. The bullet had entered Steve's upper back, almost hitting his spine and exited the middle of his chest, leaving a gaping hole. Blood poured out, leaving trails of red on Steve’s torso. 

 "Sorry, Buck."

 "No, no. Don't you start that shit. You'll be fine. Damn super soldier shit is good for something." He tried to staunch the blood flow with Steve's ripped shirt but the training in the back of his mind told him it was useless. His lungs would be filling with blood now. It would take a miracle to save him. Yet Bucky did not stop his first aid. He refused to let his best friend die. He couldn't...he could not live without Steve. They had only just found each other again. He couldn't...God, please no, not Steve...he had to live. Bucky was not ready to be alone again.

 Lydia slipped to Steve's other side. Gently she took his bloody hand and clasped it between her own. Tears coated her cheeks as she watched. 

 "Buck…"

 "No, stop talking. Everyone is on their way. Sam called them. It'll be fine."

 "I need you to…"

 "Nope, don't even start trying that speech."

 Steve rolled his eyes, blood beginning to taint his lips. "Jerk."

 "Punk."

 "Steve, look at me." Lydia stated. Both soldiers watched her, her commanding tone unable to ignore. "You're going to be alright but you'll still need to rest for a while, ok?" She glanced over at Bucky, a fire burning in her eyes. "Hold him steady."

 What?

 He did not have time to question her before the strangest thing happened.  

 Lydia leaned forward and pressed her lips to Steve's bloodied ones. One of her hands cradled the back of his head, as her kiss deepened. Even on the brink of death, Steve had no problem reciprocating. His bloodied hand cupped her cheek, leaving behind a stain on her skin. Their lips moved as if they had done this before...no hesitation...no awkward fumbling… What started off as a soft caress was turning into something more heated. 

 Bucky momentarily felt like a voyeur and was beyond confused. Steve should be saving his breath, not exerting himself. Damn that looked like a great kiss though. 

 The kiss lasted only five seconds and when they separated, both were breathing heavy like it had been far longer. Her lips were tainted red now, but her eyes shone brighter like starlight caught in her irises. 

 She looked at Bucky, tears streaming down her cheeks unashamedly. "Take care of him." Quickly she leaned over Steve, grabbing a handful of Bucky’s  hoodie, and gave him a hard kiss on the lips before standing up and dashing away. 

 "What….LYDIA!" Bucky yelled after her, watching her run down the alley and turn onto another street. Part of him wanted to chase after her and demand answers but a cough from Steve diverted his attention. 

 "Hey, it's ok. They will…."

 "Look." Steve interrupted, motioning at Bucky's hand. 

 He glanced down to see scraped knuckles, probably from when he tackled one of the men. Not a big deal. The serum would heal them within a day. Yet they were healing...immediately...right before his eyes. Within seconds, they looked completely normal, only Steve's blood marred them. 

 What?

 Immediately, Bucky pulled the torn shirt from Steve's chest, gaze locked onto the exit wound that would surely kill his best friend. A gush of blood should have resulted from the compact being removed from the wound, blood allowed to flow freely once again. Yet nothing happened. Dried blood caked his chest turning a dark red but there was nothing bright red...nothing fresh. 

 "Holy shit."

 In the next moment, Bucky felt as if the world tilted off its axis. 

 The wound slowly began to heal. Muscle and skin grew and reattached. The once graying complexion that Steve wore was returning to a healthy pink. His breathing deepened, not short, rapid breaths of dying lungs. Steve's blue eyes stared at Bucky, mouth gaping open. Curious and a bit frantic, Bucky peeled the shirt off Steve's back to see the entry wound. Both holes, once profusely bleeding and killing his best friend now looked like they were weeks healed. Some redness around the sites and fresh skin sealing the holes but still tender. 

 WHAT?!?!

 "Steve…." He did not know what else to say. His oldest friend, his best friend, his brother...he was dying...and Bucky could not save him. It was his worst nightmare come to pass. The very thing he dreaded most. Now though…

 Steve stared back at him wide-eyed before turning his head to look down the alley where Lydia fled. "She healed me….she saved…" He looked back at Bucky. "Who is she?"

 "I'm not sure…"

 "We need to find her."

 Steve started to get up but Bucky pushed him back down. "You were just shot, punk. She said to rest."

 "We can't let her get away! What if more of these mercenaries find her?!"

 "We'll look for her. Wait till the others get here. I'll go with Sam." Bucky held Steve's gaze until he relented, slumping back onto the unforgiving, concrete ground.

 The sounds of the city enveloped the quiet of the alley- car horns, sirens blaring, someone singing loudly the next street over. The two sat there, waiting and thinking. Both of their minds struggling to fully comprehend what just happened but desperate to chase after her.  

 "You just want another kiss, huh?"

 Steve chuckled, rubbing a hand over his chest and wincing. "That was some kiss. It felt like electricity going through my veins."

 Bucky thought of his own quick peck and how it felt like a shock hitting him. "Yeah. That's some dame."

 "Find her, Buck. I don't…" He sighed.. "It felt...no, she felt right."

 All Bucky could do was nod. He prayed she stayed safe until they could find her. Something in his gut told him they needed her. He looked down the alley once more, wondering where she went and who she really was. 

[sapphire-knight]

Wuuuuuuu, hi guys, part 2's here

((Read part 1 here))

- here we are again, ready for the continue?

- I'm asking because I'm not- but someone has to write this.

- ok, so. Let's get back to the dark side' living room, where the situation is not... the best

- after Roman left there was a moment of silence. Cold, suffocating, deathly silence.

- no one dared to say anything. No one knew what to say. What happened?

- even the air seemed to freeze

- none of them was actually sure how to process all of that, but everyone knew that this was a trouble.

- but let's get into details of what they're feeling, shall we?

- Patton was silently crying. He didn't even understood when he started to cry, but the tears were rolling down his cheecks, while the guilt entered his mind. How the damn did he missed the sign? How did he not understand sooner how Roman was feeling? Why didn't he try to be more constructive with his criticism? He's the heart, he's the core of the feeling, he should have realized that the prince was hurting, he should have noticed his fake smiles after a rough critic, he should have helped! Why didn't he pay attention? He could have done more... and now he regrets every single sugar-coated bad thing he said... he really didn't meant to, he thought that this was the best way to tell his concerns about Roman's idea, he thought that he was helping the creative side. But the problem is that he didn't thought it the right way, he failed.

- Virgil wasn't feeling any better, obviously. He was shaking, covering his mouth with us hands, irregular breathing and still looking at the point where the prince sunk down. What did he do, what did he do, WHAT DID HE DO? He too was feeling extremely guilty, for everything. Some people would say that Virgil had all the rights to say those harsh, burning, heavy and costant critics to the romantic side, because of how Roman himself treated Virgil in the past, but the point is... the prince did everything he could to show how sorry he was, how bad he felt for treating the anxious side like that, for antagonizing him... and how did Virgil thanked him? With his bitter and acid criticism? Virgil was disgusted by himself. He wanted to be accepted so much, to not have to be the bad guy, to being loved by the light sides, and what did he do with the love of one of them? Crushed it like a piece of paper, without regards, without pity. He felt like a monster. Roman only hoped to be forgiven and Virgil hurted him. How could he forgive himself? He couldn't.

- Logan was, surprisingly, the one who felt more guilty for everything. Se seemed to have... shut down. Vacant expression, perfectly still, really light breath; it was almost like if he just dissociated from the whole situation, in order to not let his feelings crush his heart in tiny pieces. What was the worst part, you might be asking? Well. The absolute worst part for the logical side was that he KNEW it. He KNEW that Roman was faking his smile, he noticed how the tense the prince was everytime they started to pointing out the flaws in his ideas. He KNEW how Roman's pride was nothing more than an elaborate facade. He knew that because he saw Roman having a breakdown time ago but, even that time, he didn't act. He didn't do anything. He didn't know what to do, he doesn't understand how emotions work, he though that he would only make things worse if he tried to say something. He thought that Patton or Virgil, who knew more on the matter of feeling, would have helped the prince. But it didn't happen. Probably they didn't saw anything, the most logical ending of that situation was that Roman forced himself to calm down before anyone could see him, and just acted like nothing happened. Maybe... if only that day he TRIED to help the prince, maybe now they will not be in this situation. Why didn't he try? Why did he left? How could he be so... so heartless...?

- if the three light sides are full of guilt, the two dark sides are THIS CLOSE to explode from the rage.

- if Remus didn't already start to hit the three with all his forces was only because of the shock. He didn't expect it... well, no one did, but he surely didn't thought that his twin would just... left. When he saw his brother standing up he thought that Ro was FINALLY gonna snap for everything that was said to him, but... he didn't... he... he said he was sorry. Sorry for not being good enough. WHAT KIND OF BULLS*IT WAS THAT? WHO MADE HIM THOUGHT SOMETHING LIKE THAT? WHO MADE HIS TWIN DOUBT ABOUT HIS VALUE? WHO. MADE. HIM. HATE. HIMSELF. THAT. MUCH? He was gonna kill them, he was gonna soffocate them with their own complaining, with all the things they said, WITH A THEIR DAMNED CRITICISM. Who the HELL they think that they are to talk sh*t about his brother's WONDERFUL ideas? Oooooh, he was gonna make them pay for EVERYTHING. He didn't care for the fact of being called "dark side", who the hell cared for a random etiquette without actual meaning? It meant that they saw him as a monster? Well, that monster was gonna vent all his fury on them.

- Deciet's reaction wasn't nearly as furious as Remu's one. Or, at least, in the first monent. Because, in the first moment, he only felt lost. He thought to completely understand how the prince felt about the criticism, he thought that he knew Roman's rage, he thought that he was gonna fight back all the bad words he listened in his life, but it wasn't like that. Roman wasn't angry, he didn't want to make the three light sides pay for their words, he didn't want to make them feel awful for what happened. When he said that he was sorry, his words emotions were... genuine... he was truly sorry. You hear how wrong does this sound? Yeah, Deciet hears it too. Why was Roman acting like this? Why did he felt so wrong? What happened to him...? He was not thinking logically anymore, his mind went almost blank and the rage took control of him.

- ((everybody, go grab some popcorn or sone tissues, this is gonna be fun))

- the strange shocked freeze finished and, oh boy, everything explodes

- before anybody even tried to speak, Remus was already ready to hit the light sides with all of his fury, fidgeting nervously with the morning star in his hand, barely containing his rage, waiting to make sure that Deciet doesn't want to stop him this time and, to be fully honest, Deciet would have loved to see Remus smashing ia morning star on the three light sides heads. But, thank god, he still had sone common sense, despite the rage.

- he tries to say to Remus to put the morning star down, but it felt like all the fury locked his throat, he couldn't bring himself to speak, everything hurted. So, he just told the duke to not hit anyone with a sign.

- Patton's cry wasn't silent anymore, even if he tried, and failed, to suffocate all of the sighs and the hiccups with his hands.

- they wanted to talk, to understand, even to scream, but it felt like the situation wasn't even real. It seemed to... strange, or was it just that their brain refused to accept what just happened?

- the second option was the more realistic one

- no one of them seemed able to accept this situation

- for both of the parts this felt just so... wrong. It was all just wrong. How did they ended up in this situation? When did the three light sides' criticism became that harsh? When did they started to hurt? .... When did Roman started to fall apart...?

- that hellish and tense silence was broken by the duke (if he couldn't hit with his morning star he could try to use words-) "What. Have. You. Done?" He was trying to contain his fury, it was impossibile to not notice.

- "what have we done...?" Virgil replied, snapping out of his paranoic spiral of thoughts

- "What the HELL have you said to my brother to make him feel that bad?" Remus asked again, with a serious tone that made everything only sound more and more wrong

- "I- I don't know- I didn't want to- I'm so- so sorry" Patton voice was that shaky and light that it was difficoult to understand what he was saying

- "HOW THE F*CK IS THAT POSSIBLE THAT YOU DON'T KNOW? YOU'RE THE ONES TO BLAME FOR THIS, WHAT THE HELL DOES "I DON'T KNOW" MEAN? YOU DID THIS." the duke knew that he couldn't keep a fake calm for long

- both Virgil and Patton istintivly took a step back, and that made Remus only more angry.

- before a disaster could happen, Logan spoke up "Patton isn't lying... we really don't know how this happened. We, or at the very least, I don't remember how we ended up like this. It wasn't our goal to make Roman's insecurities get the best of him, I swear". It was almost shocking hearing the sentiment in Logan's voice, he sounded just like if he was going to break in tears, and even if his expression didn't show all those emotions, his eyes betrayed all of his sadness, all the guilt, all the desire to say how sorry he is without knowing how to do it.

- Emotions already are a maze for people who didn't try to block all of them, pretend to not feel anything; for Logan they were an impossible mess, they were strange... he thought that they didn't make sense for a long time but now, now that the grief is torturing him inside, he understood that they made sense, but not always in the way that someone hoped...

- (last time I made Roman suffer? This time looks like I'm making the rest of them suffer- mostly Logan for some reasons-)

- Deciet didn't want to believe him, it was the hard way, it was more easy to just think that the light sides didn't care about Roman, it was easier to have someone to blame for all that happened.

- because being sure of who to blame means that you don't have to ask yourself what is really causing all of this, you don't have to doubt everything you thought you knew about the situation... and you don't have to take in consideration the worst case scenarios.

- but, surprise surprise, Dee and Remus knew that the light sides' guilt was real, they weren't acting.

- "what do you wanted to do then? Why did you said those things?" Thd liar side asked when he finally felt like speaking.

- "only to help" Patton answered, calming down a little bit "we thought that telling Roman what was wrong was the best way to help him make something perfect, like he always wants to". The emotional side took a deep, before continuing "if only I knew what our criticism did I would have stopped immediatly, I would have tried to be more- more helpful, more constructive... I would literally prefer to die if that meant that my friends will be happy." Did Patton really thought every word that he said? Yes. He did. With all of his heart. And everyone agreed with him.

- the only thing is... yeah, now they have clear that no one wanted to do something bad and they're all worried for Roman... but what was the prince doing?

PART 2 IS FINISHED, I'M PROUD OF MYSELF (and I have to start working on part 3, if I don't get lazy it's gonna be easy)

Well, part 2 ended and I still don't have a title, that's professional

Taglist: @jajathelivingmeme @purp-man @sanders-sketches @knightinsoftpastels @absolutesandersidestrash @croftersgamer @ragingdumpsterfiremess @twilight-glow @draw-your-perfect-world @roses-bubbles @hayden-going-insane

Part 3 is outttttt! Read it here

[ladyherenya]

Books read in April

I probably spent more time reading but I also read a handful of novellas and a couple of children’s novels, which means I read more books than usual.

Many of these were, if not outright retellings, than heading close to that sort of territory: faeries and fairytales, Sherlock Holmes, Jane Austen, and Norse gods...

Favourite cover: Masque, maybe.

Reread: Nothing, too busy reading new things...

Still reading: Cinder by Marissa Meyer.

Next up: There’s a new Murderbot novel out in early May!!!

(Longer reviews and ratings are on LibraryThing and Dreamwidth.)

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The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul by Douglas Adams (narrated by the author): Adams’ descriptions are clever and unexpected, and he strings together a series of events even more bizarre and unexpected than his descriptions. Sometimes I felt exhausted on behalf of his poor protagonists, bounced from one mishap to another, but I was impressed by Adams’ ability to turn this madness into such a coherent story.

Flamebringer by Elle Katharine White: A solid, tense conclusion to Heartstone and Dragonshadow. However, I suspect it would have made more of an impact had I read the first two books recently. It assumes that the reader remembers more worldbuilding details -- about history and family connections and magical folk -- than I did. And because I found such details confusing, I didn’t pay close attention to some of the history and politics revealed in this book, and those things turned out to be unexpectedly important. A trilogy in much need of a glossary.

Hamster Princess: Harriet the Invincible by Ursula Vernon (aka T. Kingfisher): A very amusing take on ‘Sleeping Beauty’. Upon learning of her curse, Harriet accurately concludes that she must be invincible until it strikes -- and when the time arrives, she’s determined to avoid falling into an enchanted sleep. This is heavily-illustrated. The pictures are great, but were often awkwardly displayed in the Libby e-book. 

The Art of Theft by Sherry Thomas: More of a heist story than a murder mystery, which may explain why I found it less compelling than The Hollow of Fear, although admittedly, it has its suspenseful sequences. Thomas does some interesting things in expanding her portrayal of the era as well as Mrs Watson’s story, taking Charlotte Holmes and her trusted associates to France on a mission along with someone from Mrs Watson’s past. I liked that Livia gets to play a more active role in those adventures. But I expected to like this more.

Love Lettering by Kate Clayborn: Meg is desperate for inspiration and company. She comes up with a project, looking for hand-lettered signs around New York, and invites along a former client -- who has turned up to question Meg about the hidden message in the wedding program she designed for him and his ex. A story about signs, secrets and the importance of having difficult conversations. I liked how those themes are explored in different areas of Meg’s life: making an effort to get to know Reid, setting boundaries with a new client, and trying to stop her best friend from drifting away.

Once Upon a Marigold by Jean Ferris (narrated by Carrington MacDuffie): Christian was brought up in a cave by Edric the troll, who discovered Chris hiding in the forest. Now Chris is in love with the princess Marigold, with whom he has exchanged letters carried by pigeon but has never met.  If I had discovered this in 2002 when it was first published, I suspect I’d have been delighted by its gentle, whimsical, almost-fairytale-ness. These days I tend to want more complexity and more emotion and, often, more critical engagement with the genre’s tropes. But this was still pleasant company while I did a few hours of housework.

The Shards of a Broken Sword novella trilogy by W.R. Gingell: 

Twelve Days of Faery: King Markon’s son appears to be afflicted by a strange curse, because accidents and misadventure befalls any girl the prince flirts with. When an enchantress offers to deal with the curse in exchange for the expected reward of the prince’s hand in marriage, Markon gets swept up in her investigation. This is so much fun. I liked the way it focuses on a middle-aged father, rather than any of the more usual candidates for this sort of story, like his son or any of the young women affected by the curse. And I enjoyed Althea’s confidence and practical competence.

Fire in the Blood: Another story interested in twisting fairytale tropes. A prince sets out to rescue a princess from a tower, but neither of them are the protagonist -- that’s Rafiq, the prince’s enslaved dragon, forced into human-form. Rafiq has been dragged along on this quest and quietly hopes that his vicious master will fail to unravel the tower keep’s protections. I enjoyed this. The tower keep, with its magical puzzles, was an intriguing setting, and it was rather satisfying to see Rafiq and the princess’s serving girl subtly undermine the prince’s efforts without drawing his ire.

The First Chill of Autumn: The first two standalone and take place over a few days. This does not. It begins with Princess Dion’s childhood. At seventeen, Dion is sent on a tour of her country and discovers the truth about the Fae’s influence. She ends up joining forces with characters from the previous books. I liked each of these sections. However, this could easily have been expanded into something novel-length and been stronger for it. If more time had been given to Dion’s relationships -- with her sister, Barric and Padraig, and maybe her parents -- the ending would have made more of an emotional impact.

“A Tale of Carmine and Fancy”: This short story takes place during The First Chill of Autumn. I didn’t care about Carmine one way or another when he turned up in the trilogy, so I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this.

A Posse of Princesses by Sherwood Smith (narrated by Emma Galvin): Sixteen year old Rhis is one of many princesses invited to attend festivities held in honour of a crown prince. My first impression -- a nice-but-unremarkable story with an irritating audiobook narrator -- quickly changed. I got used to the narrator’s voice. I really appreciate Smith’s portrayal of social interactions and of group dynamics from the perspective of someone who is trying to understand why others are competing for attention. And once the plot took off, I was hooked. I have mixed feelings about the very end but that didn’t change how much I liked the rest of the story.

The Two Monarchies sequence by W.R. Gingell:

Clockwork Magician: Several years after Blackfoot, Peter starts at university. Because Peter ends up messing around with time-travel, there are scenes from his future in the previous books. It’s interesting getting those moments from Peter’s perspective and fitting the puzzle pieces of his story together. I also felt invested in Peter’s journey even though he spends a lot of time being arrogant and oblivious, because I knew that there must be a significant change up ahead. The way his dawning realisation is handled was unexpectedly satisfying. I also enjoyed seeing more of Poly and Luck, and getting to know Glenna.

Masque: A murder mystery which turns into a Beauty and the Beast retelling. Lady Isabella Farrah is determined to investigate after a friend is killed at the Ambassador’s Grand Ball, even if doing so annoys the official investigator, the masked Lord Pecus. Isabella is excellent company. She’s quick-witted, resourceful and uncowed. I really enjoyed watching her banter and meddle. The Beauty and the Beast elements are cleverly woven into the story, and even without the murder investigation, there’s enough to make it a unique take on an old tale. A delightful standalone companion to this series.

Frankly in Love by David Yoon: Frank Li has watched his parents react to his older sister’s choices and he knows they will never accept him dating anyone who isn’t Korean. So he and a family friend, Joy Song, pretend to date. Fake-dating is one of my most favourite romance tropes but I’m not a fan when it’s a cover for actually dating someone else -- I don’t like others getting hurt by the deception. Despite that, I found this YA novel engaging and unexpectedly moving. And an absolutely fascinating look at being the child of immigrants.

The Night Country by Melissa Albert: The Hazel Wood was excellent, sharp and compelling, but I didn’t enjoy the sequel much at all. In the first book there’s a much stronger thread of hope running through the darkness.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: The letters exchanged between Red and Blue, two agents on opposing sides of a time war, are vibrant and memorable, playful and poignant. I particularly enjoyed their different names for each other. (“Dearest Blue-da-ba-dee”, “My Dear Mood Indigo”, “Dearest 0000FF” -- that one made me laugh, “Dear Red Sky at Morning”...) The scenes in between leave many questions unanswered about the war being fought. I couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that if I actually understood what was going on, I wouldn’t like the characters. Nevertheless the letters are brilliant, and I can deal with uncertainty for the space of a novella.

A Dead Djinn in Cairo by P. Djèlí Clark (narrated by Suehyla El-Attar): This novelette is too brief to involve what I enjoy most about murder mysteries, like carefully prying into people’s motives or characters forming supportive relationships in the face of an atmosphere of suspicion and unease. It is possible I’d like this worldbuilding in a different story, and that I would care more about Special Investigator Fatma el-Sha'arawi if I spent more time with her.

The Jane Austen Project by Kathleen A. Flynn: Rachel and Liam, a doctor and an actor-turned-academic, are sent back to 1815 to befriend Jane Austen and uncover an unpublished novel. Time travel allows for portraying Austen’s world with historical accuracy from the perspective of a woman with contemporary attitudes, and creates interesting challenges and anxieties. There’s a high degree of wish fulfilment in meeting Austen, but also realistic complications and consequences. This book impressed me even though -- or perhaps because -- it wasn’t always comfortable or to my taste. I’d have adored it, had things been slightly different, yet it’s nevertheless gripping and thought-provoking storytelling. I respect that.