#hadn't even realized that link was to yours! funny how you asked about this one then too

[claudiajcregg]

S5 Pregnancy AU - I’d love to hear about!

Welp, this is embarrassing – mostly because this has been sitting in my inbox for almost two weeks, and I kept saying “I need to write something up!” and then… I didn't. (Or rather, I did, then I forgot to post it.) Sorry for the wait, Lil! Thank you for asking <3 (I'll divide this up because I keep writing about the process and how it came to be, instead of any actual, interesting facts.)

I have talked about this one in the past though I don't have a tag for it. The gist is what it says… (Early) S5 but CJ is pregnant. I had this idea over a year ago when I hit mid/late S4 in my rewatch. I thought it'd be interesting to explore some of her disappointment at that time if you added an unexpected pregnancy to it, even if I had the idea before even getting there, lol. Think, the ending-ish of Han, or parts of Disaster Relief. (Both of which do feature! I surprisingly focus a lot on Disaster Relief.)

The thing with S5 is that the timeline is so weird, and I feel I've also created one that isn't entirely realistic but I think it works within the story. (IIRC, the season starts in “May” but also July, then the Shutdown is in November, lmao. A few of the episodes are sneaky two-parters that flow into each other… See 5-6, 7-8.) I've finally gotten out of the no-man's-land I wrote myself into and the next chapter or two, knowing myself, will deal with 7-8! There are a couple of scenes that should be fun to write! (There are so many details I want to mention that are technically spoilers for early twists…)

Every time I had the urge to write it, I'd edit whatever outline I was working in, and though I kept some details… my muse decided to make a big change early on that completely changed the fic's direction. That, and my inability to write anything succinctly. No reason why this story will cross the 100k barrier in a couple of chapters, tops. (It's sitting at 85k across 12 chapters. I think it'll be less than 20 chapters total. Hopefully.)

This might be too long to share snippets, but I've shared some either on the server or here, a couple of months ago.

For more irrelevant details on the “process”…

As I hinted at, I wrote an outline or two around this time last year, because I couldn't stop thinking about it. When I say outlines, it's a general path for the story to follow – ideas, suggestions of dialogue and/or scenes I write to myself; all focused around some sort of chapter structure. I find it much easier to write if I write down where a chapter might go, even if it's just a few lines saying “This happens → then this → finally this;” otherwise, it takes me months. Some would say that I should post it and get encouragement that way but… I hate being dependent on something I can control even less than my muse? That's not for me, thank you. Mad respect for those who work like that.

It was meant to be short – 1-2 “long” chapters per trimester, more if needed, but then interludes in between trimesters. It's not that. Most chapters currently cover 1-2 weeks, but there is not really a pattern. I was afraid of having a fic that would take over my life like the WOWO did three years ago… And it has, but I've also taken breaks and not felt too guilty about them. I definitely don't want this one to sit in my drive and have me wondering what to do with it.

(The novel, aka WOWO, aka IM AU (2021): 150k written in a little over five months, even with extended breaks over the summer. Still hits, even with all its crazy decisions, maybe because of them, but it's also been too long, and it will always remind me of someone who kinda hurt me. Attempts to replace those memories by sharing the story with others, trying to gather whether it's worth posting, have failed, lmao. One day! Maybe!)

But yeah. Uuuuuhhhh. As I've said… Twelve chapters in ten months, 85k words… It's still not done. In fact, I've repeatedly said I am unsure of how to end it (beyond the obvious), but I'd estimate it to be under 20 chapters. I'm not posting it anywhere yet because I want to be able to edit it as a whole and try to make it more consistent; to add little details as I come up with them. There's also the fact that I am not skilled enough to write a compelling story that mixes politics and emotion into something remotely engaging. As a result, the story's politics are very surface-level, and probably repetitive at points, but it's also true I've always been more interested and focused on the emotional journey and the relationship(s) at its center. (Which should surprise exactly no one who's ever read one of my stories.)

But, as critical as I might sound of myself here, I am having fun writing this and I'm committed to seeing it through. I just keep having ideas for stories down the line, putting actual show events through a 'but she also has a kid' perspective.

[armpirate]

Did I say I love you? || Jungkook

Bf experience

pairing: idol!JK x fem!reader

w.c.: 6k

Warnings: smut, fluff, breast play, female masturbation, male masturbation, public sex, unprotected sex (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 26 minutes

Summary: Jungkook didn't prepare that trip with the idea of confessing his feelings, but his heart spoke up before he could control it.

MASTERLIST

Boba ball: Put smthg comfy on today

Boba ball: I'll pick u up at twelve

You were quite used to the special weekend dates you two planned, it was the only thing that made you move throughout the week in a good mood, excited for Saturday ever since Monday kicked in.

Two months back, it was his way to adapt into your life when seeing you in the evenings, after you finished your shift, wasn't enough. Although most of those dates happened usually in either of your places, because even if you liked each other a lot, you knew the risks of going out in public. Maybe that was what pulled you back from actually accepting a date from him the first time he asked you out.

You knew him long before your eyes met at your company's year-end party. His aura was already powerful when you admired him through a screen, but it was completely different when he approached you first, with a nervous smile that you thought he'd never dedicate to you. You knew everything about him before you two went on a first date, but it felt like you were discovering those things for the first time as you heard them coming out of his mouth directly. You knew the superstar, and all the consequences that'd come with it. But you also knew that boy who made dumb jokes that you'd only find funny if they came from him, because his giggles had you smiling immediately after. And with that boy you were head over heels for, you completely ignored those consequences, and were ready to face them as soon as they came.

You frowned, confused when you saw his car parked in front of your building while he waited for you, with his lower back resting against the bonnet.

Jungkook smiled as soon as he saw you doing a little run to him, ready to wrap his arms around you as soon as you stood in front of him. Although you stopped yourself from doing, holding back from also linking your lips together in a small peck, followed by a new one, and a new one, until you moved your head back to look into his sparkly big eyes, when you realized you were out in the open.

"I see you're excited for today" he joked, standing straight in front of you.

"What did you prepare?" you questioned, tilting your head.

"Hmm" he pursed his lips, looking away from you, "Should I tell you or should I let you guess?".

"You won't tell me, right?" your eyes were squinted at him, knowing him for long enough to know that he probably would keep the suspense until he thought it was the proper time to reveal it.

You hopped inside the car after he opened the door for you, seeing him surround the bonnet before he joined you and gave you all those pecks he felt only safe giving you behind the tinted windows of his car.

As he drove, you tried to guess what the surprise could be, taking in consideration the fact that he was wearing comfortable baggy clothes -not that they weren't his usual style, but he also asked you to wear something similar-, and how he brought his car instead of his motorbike.

As time went by, and Jungkook kept driving on different roads you hadn't been in before, you turned to him.

"Are we going on a trip?" you asked excitedly.

"You're close" he nodded, tilting his head while he kept his eyes on the road.

That answer left you confused, trying to think what could be close to a trip, and that'd also require you to leave the city.

"We aren't going camping, are we?" you tried to take a guess, unable to hide the hope for a positive answer with your question.

His hand laid on your knee, squeezing it as he giggled to your reaction "That's exactly what we're doing".

Your legs shook on the spot, before you took off your seatbelt and kissed his cheek out of excitement. You remembered you had mentioned it a week back, while you were watching one of the episodes of the kdrama you started watching together. It wasn't something you gave a lot of importance to, just something you mentioned because it also appeared, and it reminded you of when you used to do it with friends back home. The fact that he took all that information, and turned it into a surprise made your heart squeeze in your chest.

After twenty minutes on the road, Jungkook turned his face at you, giving you a quick smile "Is it a good plan? Or maybe you'd have preferred to stay at home and get some rest?".

"Don't be silly" you squeezed his knee, trying to reassure him that you were the happiest by his idea. "This is the best plan you could've come up with".

Your words only made him smile wider, thinking the corners of his lips would leave his face at any point by how they kept stretching whenever he was around you. It was simple: you made it all better, and seeing you excited and happy only topped that full sensation on his chest that he was feeling in that moment.

He remembered the first time he saw you, and how it all clicked even before you two spoke to each other. He thought that floating sensation that people talked about was only real in movies, but then he met you. Jungkook was convinced that the moment you two made eye contact for the first time, his feet raised from the ground and made him fly exactly where you were.

It was a non-stop need since you exchanged the first words, never getting enough and extending that small talk, that was supposed to last a few minutes, to turn it into a conversation that would only end when he dropped you at home the morning after.

He didn't even think he had that many things to talk about with anyone.

"How's work been?" he asked first.

"Good. It has been a calm week, surprisingly" you scoffed, turning to him. "What about you? How was it like to go back to the routine?".

When you two met each other, Jungkook was enjoying his last few weeks of that improvised break. He had all the time he could think of, and he invested most of it in you as soon as he met you. Calls, texts, quick visits to your company, late night sneaks to take some fresh air, or chill evenings cuddling on the couch... that was what you were introduced to after you started seeing each other after only a few weeks. And right when you were close to growing a deeper connection, he was sent back to reality -almost having him regretting getting back to work.

It still worked out.

You didn't see each other as much, but it was still enough to remind you both of how bad you actually wanted to be next to the other. Even then, your minds were still linked, to the point where the smallest thing would be a reminder of your relationship, or the things the other liked or disliked, the places you could go to together, or the things you could try to eat when you saw each other in the weekend or in those secret and short night outs in the middle of the week.

Jungkook settled everything when you arrived at the place, all while you stayed to the side while waiting for him to need your help. But he'd only turn to you every two minutes to dedicate a gentle smile to you while his nose scrunched, before he turned back to the half assembled tent.

"Are you hungry?" he turned to you with a sided smile, clapping his hands when it all was already settled.

Your stomach squeezed at the mention of food. Even if you two stopped at the resting area to get something for lunch on your way to the beach, your body was already craving for something more than some snacks.

It only took him one tiny move of your head to start walking back to his car and open the truck to get a few bags out. As you looked inside, you could see some meat packages, but also some recipients that you were sure had food inside.

You sighed, aware of all the work it took him to prepare all that for you "You should've told me, I would've prepared or bought something".

Jungkook smiled at you fondly, poking his hands inside his baggy pants. He obviously had the money to buy all the food you wanted in the world, yet there you were again: making it seem like he wasn't and he'd probably go bankrupt after buying a packet of pork belly. Maybe that was what he liked the most about you. It was always with small gestures like the one you just had, with the way you never, in those two months you had been seeing each other, made him feel out of place. You gave him a safe corner, where he was allowed to be himself, to be seen as much more than just the idol.

"If I had told you, there would have been no surprise".

You puckered your lips while smiling, thinking that he definitely had a point with that, but still feeling a bit guilty.

"Don't look at me that way" he chuckled. "I'll let you cook if you want".

"Okay. Deal".

Your upset expression quickly turned into a playful smile as you reached for the camping gas box he had brought along with the bags. Although it'd quickly disappear in a frown when you tried to understand how to get that thing to work.

You looked up to him with a naughty smile, pointing to the pan "Can you do one last thing for me?".

"Five thousand wons" Jungkook answered with a serious expression, offering his hand to you. Your smile dropped at that, feeling your eyebrows slowly turning into a straight line while you looked at him "Or, a kiss".

"Okay" you giggle, motioning him to get that thing started.

It probably was more simple than what you thought if you had only paid attention to it, but your focus was on the way the tip of his tongue peeked through his lips and moved his piercing to care about how Jungkook got that thing to work.

"Done" he sighed, catching you red handed staring at him. "What will you do if it stops working?".

"I'll ask you to turn it on again" you shrugged.

Snorting before he giggled, he bent over you to go for that peck he earned, aiming to go for a second one before you moved your head back.

He was so good at distracting you. And he knew.

As you fought to open the meat package, he saw some of your hair locks falling over your face, turning into something that could bother you to cook -at least until he took his beanie off, putting it on you so your hair wouldn't be getting in your eyes and face.

While you cooked, you could feel Jungkook's eyes on you. It was nothing new from him, but they had a special spark that day. You could feel there was something different in the way he looked at you, but you couldn't quite tell what. You just knew it made you nervous, ending up feeding him every few pieces that were cooked to try to divert his attention from you. But it only had you giggling at him while he chewed on the hot food, exhaling some air while he tried to cool it down in his mouth. And Jungkook wouldn't take long to do the same for you, taking his chopsticks before blowing on the piece so it would be at the right temperature when he offered it to you.

Just like you cooked, Jungkook offered to clean all of the things that were used, singing random verses with his honeyed voice while you just stared at him the same way he looked at you before, unable to believe everything was indeed real, and that special human being allowed you to take a spot in his most genuine and intimate side, which wasn't too far from what Jungkook kept thinking about whenever his eyes laid on you. You fitted together perfectly like puzzle pieces, and you made him feel complete, aware of how there was something missing when he thought he had everything he needed.

Right when you thought he'd sit still and finally join you to enjoy the chilly weather and the beautiful sight, you saw him walking back to his car with the bags, and returning to you with a small bottle and something that seemed like a tiny canva.

Of course his creativity wouldn't relax, not even in that short getaway.

"What's this for?" you took the canva from his hand.

"I'll explain it to you there. Let's go".

Jungkook held your hand tight as you walked into the beach, leaving behind the grassy space you had settled your camping on. You'd have expected anything, but not that he actually wanted to create a memory out of that weekend with you.

It was special, meaningful... and it also meant that he probably saw your relationship as something that could be long-term even if you had been only two months into your relationship.

"Let's put some glue on your hand" he started, holding your wrist to keep your hand stable as he traced a line on each one of your fingers and some circles to mark your palm, "and stick it on the canvas".

"You saw this on TikTok, didn't you?" you teased him, with Jungkook answering shortly with a proud nod.

You knew because you had also seen that video of a couple doing exactly what you were doing.

"It reminded me of you" he confessed with a soft tone. "That's why I picked this place".

You smiled as you followed his guidance, pressing your hand to later help him pour some sand over it. When it was his turn, you tried to make sure you poured the white glue the same way he did, marking the main lines of his big hand before he placed it next to yours.

Jungkook lifted it up with his clean hand once it was done, showing it to you proudly. That was it, apart from all the videos and pictures, that was your first memory together.

Sitting next to each other, you two looked up at the starry sky, while covered with a warm blanket Jungkook just happened to have in his car -and that thankfully he carried with him. Your hands were sneaked under it, intertwining your fingers close, while his thumb traced some nonsensical lines that made your head feel at ease.

"Thank you for today" you whispered, only moving from looking at the stars in the sky to looking at the universe reflected in his eyes.

"Thank you for every day you've spent with me" he answered back, dedicating one of the sweetest smiles you had ever seen on him.

The burning sensation on your cheeks didn't take long to show up, forcing you to move your eyes away to look back at the sky as you fought to control the wide smile that was attempting to appear across your face.

"Hmm, what wish would you make if you saw a shooting star?" you quickly tried to switch the topic.

At first, you thought it'd be a way to change his focus from you to get it back on the sky over you, but it only made his gaze feel heavier on you.

What wish could he make?

He already had everything he wanted and needed, but he still tried to find the answer to your question, going through all the aspects in his life, covering up every corner, and all of a sudden every wish had something related to you. Jungkook didn't want that to end, that was his wish. He wanted to be with you, and he felt the sudden need to know you also felt the same way.

His heart pumped against his chest harder when those thoughts started crossing his mind, trying to order them all in his head to find the best way to say them out loud and getting them to make sense so you could understand.

"That the girl I love says she loves me back".

When you first heard him, you thought that maybe your Korean failed at some point. Could be you misunderstood a word, could be you misplaced the sentence in your head as you translated it. But it didn't seem like it when you looked back at him, finding his doe eyes bigger than usual, filled with that spark you had seen a few times throughout that day.

"I love you" he pronounced each word with the softest voice, holding your hand a bit tighter as he said them. "I know it might be too early, and maybe I'm rushing it, but I really love you. I want to be with you, and have these dates for a long long time. But I also want to be there for you when you need me, and look after you when you feel weak, I...".

"I love you, too".

You couldn't contemplate a universe where you didn't tell Jungkook you wanted exactly everything he wanted. Getting to know him during that time, actually spending quality time with him as you witnessed each and every single one of his facets made all those feelings that you had for him intensify every time your lips touched.

Hell, even your body felt lighter when he only pronounced your name.

His lips felt soft in contrast with the rough metal of his two lip rings when you linked your lips together, sucking on his lower lip before you moved to suck on the top one.

You just wanted everything from him.

"Come here, babe" he whispered, breaking the kiss.

"That chair won't handle our weight" your giggle built a few centimeters of distance as your head moved back.

"It will. Come here" he assured you, letting go of your hand to move the blanket away on his side.

How were you supposed to ignore those big brown eyes when he asked for cuddles?

You held onto the warm cup filled with hot chocolate he made sure to prepare on the camping gas before you could get all cozy.

"Can you say it again this close?" Jungkook asked once you were covered by the blanket while sitting on his lap.

A scoff left your lips at his question, knowing by the look he was giving you that he wanted it to be the second of so many other times hearing those words coming from you.

"I love you" you whispered, kissing his cheek.

"That won't work" his head shook while his lips were pressed together in disappointment. "You can't say those words and kiss me on the cheek. Repeat that, please".

"I love your annoying ass" you repeated, kissing the corner of his lips.

"Wrong sentence, and wrong place again. I can do this all night" he assured you.

His sassy tone made you giggle, trapping your lower lip between your teeth before you spoke again: "I love you".

Jungkook moved his head first, capturing your lips before you could totally lean over to him. It started sweet and gentle, but both of your mouths opened a little wider with every move you made, knowing it probably would be only the beginning of a whole make out session that could last for hours if you wanted to.

Except for the chair underneath you.

You only felt your body losing stability, and a loud gasp announcing the soon landing on the ground before you were actually aware of what happened.

Your cackles could probably be heard from meters away once you both made sure the other was okay, except for the hot chocolate messing up your oversized sweater and staining a bit of Jungkook's hoodie -although it was barely noticeable through the black fabric.

He got up first to help you stand up, holding your hands tight to make sure you wouldn't trip in the process.

"Look at your clothes" his concerned face made you giggle, thinking that he was more worried about it than you. "Change it and wear this".

Your mouth went dry when he took his hoodie off by pulling the neck up, making the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath rise with the fabric and expose his well-marked abs. You could feel your hormones start boiling up with that slight exposure of skin, feeling like you were back in your teenage years when the smallest thing was instantly connected to sex.

It was his power though.

Ever since you started dating, and even if you two tried to assure a normal date, the desire and hunger you felt for each other was always bigger than your willpower. Neither of you ever got enough of it. And that night would be no exemption.

"Babe, what are you thinking about?" he scoffed, looking at your blank expression as you held his hoodie tight in your hands.

But he already knew what was going on through your head. He could easily recognize the way your eyes darkened with some thoughts, and how you instinctively bit your lower lip to suppress them.

"Nothing" you shook your head, trying to get back to reality.

But it was too late to escape your ideas, because Jungkook already had a glimpse of them.

"Let me help you take off your sweater" his eyebrow raised with pettiness, stepping closer to you.

He blew into his hands, rubbing them together to warm them up before he started lifting your sweater slowly, making your body squirm lightly when the reverse of his fingers touched your stomach for the first time. The smirk told you everything you needed to know in that moment: he was going to help you give in to those filthy thoughts that flashed through your mind at the speed of light.

His nose rubbed against yours softly, almost getting your lips to touch as his hand moved dangerously close to your bra.

And you were already lost in him and his touch. With your boyfriend not having to do much more than just move his finger through your torso to have your knees almost shaking, eager for the kiss that would get you to lose your balance.

Before Jungkook could kiss you to let all his intentions be known, you moved your head back while a palm stopped him by his chest.

"Someone could see us" you giggled nervously.

"There's no one around. No one will see us. Don't worry" he assured you with a honeyed tone, rubbing right below the arch of your bra.

You both had tried to be careful with your relationship since the beginning. Barely going out -or showing no affection in public when you did, acting like strangers-, unable to act like a normal couple because the weight of his image was always heavier than your relationship. That, now that you were alone in the middle of nowhere, just lighted up by the fire he started, had you paranoid of someone popping up out of nowhere.

Jungkook was relaxed about it though.

Two of his fingers hooked on your chin, linking your lips together on a sweet kiss that would wash all those worries away, knowing a little bit too well how to get you to focus on him only.

Not even his smile kept you from moving along when your arms wrapped around his shoulders, sinking your fingers in the strand of his short locks as you tried to deepen the kiss. You could feel his mouth opening a bit wider when the tip of your tongue played with his lip rings, asking permission to get through. A gasp was shut down and drank by him when the hand on your torso moved down it until it reached your ass, squeezing one of your cheeks to pull you closer to his body and allowing you to feel the way his bulge started to grow against your lower belly. His hand moved a bit lower, digging in the link between your legs to steal a moan from you, when his fingers teased your pussy over your sweatpants.

You broke the kiss first, pulling from his lower lip, sucking on it, until it freed from your grip with a loud pop sound. Your open-mouthed kisses through his throat and neck, giving attention to every single mole in it, were also in sync with your silky and cold fingertips digging down his t-shirt, hearing Jungkook's groan above you by the contrast with his warm skin. You could feel the way his muscles contracted as you traced down your fingers over them, pulling playfully by the earrings on his left ear to get him to squirm and giggle because of it.

Your clit throbbed when his fingers digged over your clothed pussy "You aren't naked yet, and I can already tell how wet you are" his raspy voice teased you, while his fingers traced circles over your entrance.

"I haven't touched you directly, and I can tell how happy you're to see me by just doing this" you grinded your pelvis against his, feeling how hard and big he already was. "You're in no position to tease me about that".

"Get inside the tent".

You obeyed, taking your shoes off before you crawled inside the tent he settled earlier that afternoon. Before Jungkook could join you and tell you to get naked, most of your clothes were already gone, only having your underwear left. And when he joined you, he was also dressed with only his boxers, kicking his pants inside the text to crawl inside and close the zip.

It didn't take him long to kiss you again, with hunger and neediness, that you easily recognized because it was the way he kissed you whenever you were in that situation, moving his lips dominantly over yours while his tongue fought against yours.

The straps on your shoulders felt loose when he moved his hand through your back, moving the fabric away until it was blocked by your elbows on the flood, although it was just enough to expose your tits.

His tongue moved around your stiff button, almost as if he was preparing you for the moment he moved his flat tongue over it, sending an instant electricity through your spine. While one hand held your back, covering most of it, to keep you arched, his other hand reached to your mouth, moving his thumb in between your lips for you to suck it. He felt every rugosity as it got harder against his muscle, with his dick twitching in his boxers by the way you sucked on his finger.

"You're so beautiful, love" he admitted with a raspy voice, giving a peck in the middle of your breasts. "And you taste so good, too...".

Those last words were almost muffled with his lips enclosing around your nipple, moving his thumb away from your mouth so he could move it around the other one, just like he would have with his tongue, just to later pinch it at the same time his teeth bit on the other to get a loud gasp from you.

Suddenly the straps of your bra were a bother, keeping you stranded from touching him until you took it off completely. Your fingers sank in his hair again, making sure he wouldn't move away from that spot, while your other hand moved back his wide back with a soft caress that almost made him go insane.

Jungkook was too focused on the way you tasted, on the sounds you made, and the way your body squirmed under his, to notice the moment your hand moved to the front and digged in his boxers until your fingers wrapped around him.

The chilly air made you hum when he moved your panties aside, sliding two fingers through your slit until he found your entrance. He slid them into you slowly, until they were knuckles deep into your pussy. The steady in an out pace made your heart a little bit faster, and your mind clouded a little bit more, driving you crazy when he added a thumb on your clit, to tease you back by the way your fingers wrapped a little bit tighter around him whenever they reached his tip.

His fingers curled inside of you, tempting a spot that almost turned your spine into hot tar as he moved them up and down against that sensitive spongy spot, with your legs trembling the longer he went on it.

"Kook..." you tried to warn him.

"I know, babe. Cum on my fingers".

He said those words while his chin rested on your chest, admiring your face as he helped you be teared apart. Jungkook loved seeing how those lovely and innocent eyes went all lustful and dark when he did those things to you. He loved knowing he was the only one who could see you that way.

Your fingertips digged on his scalp, and your fingers set him free as your wrist twisted with the pleasure that ran over you, and took control over your body, when Jungkook awarded you with an orgasm.

You took a few seconds to get back at yourself, looking down at him with hooded eyes and a pleased smile, before you pulled him again for a kiss.

Your bodies moved almost at the same time, reading through each other as you sat on your knees to get rid of the remaining pieces of clothing to be fully naked.

Jungkook dragged you with him, sitting with his legs crossed, while his hands guided you to wrap yours around his body.

"Wait, the condom..." you reminded him, breaking the kiss.

"Fuck, I didn't bring any" he whined, throwing his head back.

"I didn't either" you puckered your lips, holding onto his shoulders. "It's alright" you shrugged, moving your hands up to his neck ", I'm on the pill".

"Alright" he purred, giving small kisses that never fully ended up with him sucking your lower lip.

One of his hands never left your body, always making sure you knew he was there for you, while the other lined himself up to your entrance.

You both moaned in sync when you helped him, lowering your hips slowly to take him in inch by inch, feeling him stretch you out and getting used to him while your walls wrapped around him perfectly.

One hand was supported on his thigh, while the other found some support around his shoulder and neck, finding the perfect stability to start moving the best you could in that position. He dedicated you one sweet smile before you felt attracted to his lips, feeling the need to kiss him even if it'd be interrupted every few seconds by your gasps and moans, or your sudden need to get more air.

"Are you comfortable like this?" he tried to make sure, rubbing his palm on your flexed thigh.

"Uh-hum" you nodded, too concentrated on the way his cock felt every time you dug it back in after lowering your hips.

"You're such a goddess" he caressed your cheek.

Jungkook was the type to do dirty talk whenever you had sex. He loved the blush on your cheeks, or your fucked out face whenever he said something that'd have you slapping his face in any other context. But he also loved showering you with love and praises when the mood asked for it. And that night he only wanted to worship your body, stare at you as you took him in and admire the way your lips parted whenever his tip rubbed over the right spot every few thrusts.

When you opened your eyes, you found him staring at you with that particular look he had given you many times before, making you smile almost instantly. You wrapped your arms around him, gluing your torsos together as you worked on him.

"I love you" he whispered against your lips, moving your locks away from your face. "I'm so in love with you" he repeated, almost as if he indeed wanted to leave it clear for you.

Your answer was interrupted by a sudden moan, before you tried to speak again "I love you, too" you let him know with a high-pitched voice, resting your forehead on his.

Your fingers dented on each other's skin, tried to get ready for the new wave of pleasure as your pulse started racing up and your breaths got heavier and more difficult with every move. There was desperation in his eyes as you looked into them, knowing your eyes were probably reflecting the right same thing with every move you made. His needy short moans almost made you lose yourself, delighting yourself with those sounds and knowing that was one of the few things you'd want to keep hearing for the rest of your life.

Both of your moans turned messier and cracked, while your fast and determined moves turned into arrhythmic and sloppy as all the hairs in your body raised with the new orgasm. And even though you could feel his cock twitching inside of you, spilling his seed, Jungkook held you close and tight, caressing you through the last few and slower moves until you stayed completely still on top of him.

The only things that could be heard in the tent were your shaky breaths, and the fabric of the bed beneath you wrinkling as Jungkook adopted a more relaxed position for his legs.

"Did I already say that I love you?" Jungkook inquired, looking up at you.

You didn't answer with words, but you did answer with a happy giggle and an intimate peck that quickly evolved into a deeper kiss.

The next afternoon, after eating lunch early on the beach, he drove you back home. Jungkook's hand rested on your thigh, while the other kept the wheel controlled, dedicating you a few looks every few minutes just to get to see you smile again.

"Are you sure you don't want to spend the night?" you asked, after Jungkook parked his car in front of your building.

"I'd love to" he assured you. "But I have a schedule tomorrow, and I don't want to wake you up earlier than needed. I'll send you a text when you wake up".

He always did.

Jungkook learned your habits the more time he spent with you. So even if he woke up earlier and you weren't together, his good morning message always showed up on your screen at the same time your alarm blasted to interrupt your sleep.

"Don't stay up too late" you asked him.

Although Jungkook gave you an accusing look, reminding you you were always the reason he stayed up later than what he planned first.

"I won't answer your tests after nine. This time I mean it" the threat you just threw at him was probably the biggest lie you had ever told him.

"You will, unless you want me to show up here five minutes later".

And he'd certainly be able to.

"You're so annoying" you scoffed, shaking your head.

"But you love me anyway".

Jungkook had been dying to say that sentence and for it to be true for a long few weeks already. And the fact that he was already able to say it with certainty that it was true made him proud, and you could tell by the way his voice sounded cheerful as he said it.

"I do. That's why I'm telling you to rest well" you repeated.

"I'll try my best" Jungkook assured you.

"Send me a text when you get home" you softly said, leaning over to kiss him.

"I will" Jungkook always did, but you liked reminding him.

After giving him one last peck, you got out of the car and walked to your house. Not without turning to him a few times to wave goodbye at him and manage to see his smile one last time before you close the door to your building behind you. 

Taglist: @ttanniett

[captain-mj]

Listen, just about every other month I find and reread your pricegraves fic where after graves betrayal he would do anything for price to forgive him, leading to some toe curling edging and overstimulation.

If you had it in you, another fic with other characters or pricegraves again, featuring edging and overstimulation would be lovely. Love your writing and that one is definitely one of my favorites. So funny with ghosts being the wingman. If not, Merry Christmas, happy holidays and I still can't wait to see what you got coming next.

All my favorite things! Also you're getting PriceGraves <3 If you guys want this in more ships, ask and I got you guys

Link if anyone doesn't know what they're talking about

This is basically post MW3 with my updated characterizations of the characters

Graves smirked at Price. "I threw Shepherd under the bus and you're mad at me? I'm the reason you could kill the guy."

Price hated that Graves was right but what he hated more was that Graves was saying all of this with his suit half undone. "How did you know I killed him? I did just a few hours ago."

"Heard he died. You're here. I'm no fool, Price." Graves drank from the shot glass he had. "Come to kill me too?"

"Considering it."

"Don't blame you. I'd kill you if I had the chance."

Price tapped his fingers on the table, looking him over. He was attractive. Especially like this. His hand was on his inner thigh, almost... posing.

Graves was posing.

Price started to notice the little details. His hair was the hot bed head messy, his shirt had been opened to expose his chest and the fucking whiskey glass.

Graves looked at him through soft lashes. "John. Are you going to kill me or keep staring?"

Price hadn't told anyone he'd be there. He doubted any of them would care if he added Phillip Graves to the list, but still. None of them expected it. Nor would they know that he even went there.

"Keep staring."

Graves sighed. "You come here. Dressed like that. Stupid fucking beanie." He drank the rest of his glass and set it down. "And all you're going to do is stare?"

Price swallowed and crossed the room, putting the gun to Graves's temple. Graves just smiled at him.

"I'm not drunk, don't worry. Just got a taste." He licked his lips and Price almost growled as he kissed him. His tongue darts out to taste the whiskey.

It's his favorite.

Price groaned and kept licking at him, trying to devour him. Graves stayed lax for now and let Price grab him and move between his legs. "Oh Captain, my Captain." He teased when Price went for his throat, nipping and biting.

Price hated how put together he acted. Just once, he wanted to Graves to act as deranged and feral as Price felt. He pulled at his clothing but didn't undress him yet.

"You can, John. Won't tell you no."

Price only finished unbuttoning Graves's shirt and pants, leaving everything still on. He knelt down and felt Graves's hand fall on his shoulders. "Not going to knock the beanie off?"

"I love your hair but you look... really good like that." There was a hint of breathlessness in his voice that had Price realizing he made the right choice. He looked up at him and Graves blushed a little before Price started to kiss down his stomach.

Graves tightened his grip on the arms of the chair and he looked up at the ceiling as Price gently and carefully used his tongue and teeth to pull his underwear down. He started to mouth at his cock, pleasantly surprised to find that Graves was rather sensitive. He jerked up and groaned at the feeling of Price's beard rubbing against him.

"Fuck." Graves groaned. "Come on. Do it properly."

Price had half a mind to leave him hard and aching for the comment but instead, he kissed the tip and slowly slid down.

Graves tilted his head back. "You feel so good. It's been a while."

Price hummed and slowly worked him over, feeling him tense and start to pant softly. Right when he was sure he was at the edge, he pulled off. A string of saliva connected them before snapping as he swallowed. He stared at him and Graves gripped the arm until his knuckles went white. Something close to malice in his eyes.

Price got up and grabbed the lube from the nightstand. He ripped the container open with his teeth and knelt back down. Graves kicked his pants off and spread his legs as Price started right back up at licking over his cock. Now he included his fingers, working him open.

Price kissed his inner thigh before biting into the flesh and making Graves keen. His cock twitched violently as Price worked him open, ignoring the way Graves moved and thrashed. He panted softly as Price threatened to make him come with his fingers but Price stopped right as he almost got there.

Graves groaned. "Are you going to tease me all night?"

"Considering it." Price threatened.

Graves went to protest but Price already saw how turned on the idea made him so he bit his tongue instead.

Price gave him nothing until he had came all the way back down, heavy breathing and flustered. "John..."

Price crooked his fingers and Graves almost screamed. He could see him biting his lip as his eyes rolled back. Precum leaked out of his cock.

Price smirked as he continued his tirade. Graves was perfect. So much skin was unmarred. Perfect for sinking his teeth in to. Not to mention the sounds. The soft keens and almost violent moans that came out of him. His eyes welled up with tears as Price brought him right to the edge again.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Graves whined as Price pulled away, leaving him chasing the pleasure. "So good, so good. Come on, fuck me, John. You want to."

Price did. But he couldn't make this easy. "You lied on the stand. You hurt people."

"i protected my own. Surely you can understand that more than anyone." Graves's back arched as Price curled his fingers and pressed. He groaned and tensed around him, eyes rolling back.

Price slowly pulled out of him, watching how Graves swallowed and his head fell back. He yanked him closer to the edge and forced his legs wider open. Graves's hands fell to his side, having to hold himself up.

"Fucking hell." Price cursed when he slid into him. HIs eyes rolled back at the feeling. Graves's hands grabbed his sides and his ankles went over his shoulders. He shoved into him hard, loving the blissed out expression it got from Graves. He put his hands over Graves's head and thrust into him hard.

"Jesus Christ, John. You're so big." Graves looked wrecked, teeth still digging into his lip. "I can finish now right?"

Price put his hand around his throat and fucked him nice and slow. He'd slow down to a crawl when ever Graves started to get close. Teasing him,, letting him get close, so close to the line. He balanced him there, watching him grit his teeth.

"Ask nicely."

"Fuck you."

Price stopped to let Graves come crashing down, hips furiously working to get them moving again. "Wait, no. John, come on."

"Ask nicely."

Graves glared at him for a minute but his trembling legs gave him away. "Fine. Please?"

"Please...?"

"Please Captain."

Price tightened his grip and slammed into him over and over again. He pressed into the hollow of Graves's throat, feeling him tense before coming hard between them. After all the teasing, he was so sensitive. Price pinned him down and kept going, enjoying himself. He took all the pleasure he wanted as Graves tried to catch his breath.

"You're going to let come too, aren't you commander?"

Graves panted softly as he stared up at him, already getting hard again. "Fuck you." He moaned and his eyes slipped close when Price jerked his hips.

Graves turned his head to the side and tried to pull his wrists free from Price, but he refused to let up. The pleasure was overwhelming, but Graves didn't say a word, just took it like a good boy. It took a bit, but Price managed to get a few tears out of him.

When he was about to finish Price grabbed his chin and forced him to look up at him. He took in those pretty blue eyes as he came, watching the soft blush across Graves's face as he realized why he just grabbed him. The eye contact burned but Price didn't plan on pulling out yet.

Graves tried to look away but Price wouldn't let him. They sat there for a moment before Price's fingers trailed down to Graves's hard cock.

"No need, Captain. Really." Graves answered gruffly before Price started to stroke him. He whimpered as he kept going.

"Got one more in you, don't ya, love?"

Graves groaned but let him keep going, not really having a choice. When he tried to move his hands, Price caught his wrists and continued pinning him. It was too much too soon but Graves still felt himself slowly winding back up.

He came with a sharp sob that filled him with more shame than what he just did. Or more, allowed Price to do to him.

It hit him hard and his legs shook pathetically around Price who simply pulled out, watching the way Graves couldn't help but try to keep the connection between them. Tears were still streaming down his face but he quickly wiped them away.

"Good job, Captain. I assume I'm off the hook?"

"For now. Might show back up."

"If you don't bring a gun, I might let you fully undress me next time." Graves grinned at he fixed his pants.

Price thought he was a little too coherent but he'd correct that next time he showed up.

[ladytauria]

Trick or treat? :3

💜🧡💜 thank you fenris!!

so! this one is a snippet from my incbus!jason AU~ loosely based on a platonic batfam series (link), in which incubi feed on all emotions, but especially love/pleasure/etc. working summary:

Tim doesn’t let Jason touch him.

the basic set up is that the two of them are on an away mission, and Jason needs to feed~

it's actually almost done; i just need to clean it up / rewrite a few bits!

“You need to eat.”

“There are other food sources. Pain. Fear. Anger.” He pauses. “Lust.” Never mind how using lust to feed made him feel, or what memories it brought to the surface. It would sate him until one of the others was available.

Tim’s lips thin. “Because submerging yourself in those isn't going to mess up your head."

Jason sets his jaw. “I can control it.” He wants to be angry, offended, at the mere idea that Tim doesn’t trust him—but those emotions wither at the sight of the scar on his throat.

Tim huffs, waving a hand dismissively. "I know you can." Both tone and gesture act as if the opposite is ludicrous. "I’m not worried about your control, Jason. I don’t want you to—put yourself through something you don’t have to.”

There’s a part of Jason that melts at that. “You shouldn’t either,” he says, softer than he means to.

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re forcing yourself to do this, but—”

“I’m not,” Tim denies again, more forcefully. “There would be no point. You’d know as soon as you touched me.”

That—is true.

When an incubus opened a bond, there was no hiding from them. Every emotion was on display, and though they could be dulled, suppressed, they couldn’t be fully hidden. Not even Bruce, with all his training and shields, could hide from Jason when he was feeding from him.

If Tim truly didn’t want Jason touching him, Jason would know as soon as the bond opened.

Jason still argues. “Don’t. Don’t make yourself do this, Tim. Not for me.”

Not after what he did.

Jason could still hear him screaming in his nightmares. Could smell his blood, feel it on his fingers. The worst of it was the acrid flavor of his fear and pain; the way the insecurities and doubt had swelled under his thrall. Tim had defied him, determination humming in his blood all the way to the end. Jason had crossed a line Tim never could—and he would bear that sin to his second grave, and possibly beyond.

Getting to know him just made it worse. Tim was funny, and kind, with clever fingers and fine-boned hands. He never shied away from Jason’s death jokes. He liked a good explosion almost as much as Jason, and after a fight, when he was pink cheeked and wild haired, he had a triumphant smile that made Jason want to kiss the rest of the breath from him—

—and he couldn’t.

Because he shot himself in the foot before he even knew he wanted to walk.

And now Tim sat here, across from him, and asked him to feed from him like Jason hadn't once twisted his deepest insecurities and doubts against him.

“Jason… I’m not making myself do anything.” Tim’s face softens. “It’s okay. You’re not the person who hurt me anymore. You’ve changed.”

He has. He knows he has. He’s worked hard at it, ever since he woke up one day and realized he'd become something, someone, he'd never wanted to. And somehow, that had ended with him being back in the bats' good graces again. Mostly.

He will never follow Bruce’s rule. He will never stop believing that sometimes, people need to die, and if he ever gets the chance, he’ll put a bullet through Joker’s head without hesitation or second thoughts. But he’s done trying to force Bruce’s hand, and Bruce is done trying to change him. They still fight over Jason’s choices, sometimes, but ultimately; Bruce has learned to live with it. Has said he trusts Jason—has let Jason feel it.

But just because he’s changed doesn’t mean the damage hasn’t been done. They’re never going to be close again. He’s never going to be able to lean on him, like he once did, and he’s never going to trust him fully, to keep him safe.

“It still happened.” Jason can never fully trust Bruce. Tim can never fully trust Jason. Actions have consequences.

“It did. But I’ve forgiven you, Jason.”

Jason wants to believe it. He does. But Tim is a liar, and a good one. He’s seen him lie right to Batman’s face without so much as flinching—and watched Bruce believe him. He still believes him. Hell. If Jason hadn’t known the truth, he probably would have believed him too.

Tim smiles at him, then, small and self-deprecating, and Jason itches to smooth it away. “The Tower has nothing to do with why I haven’t offered to feed you before. It’s—” He shakes his head. “You might be the one who never wants to touch me again, if anything.”

Jason very much doubts that. To say so out loud, though, would reveal how very badly he does want to touch Tim, and he can’t have that. “Tim…”

“Jason.” Tim meets his gaze. He’s not fiddling with his shirt sleeve anymore. His hands are still. His shoulders are back. His jaw is set. He isn’t going to budge, Jason realizes. Even if Jason convinces him to give it up tonight—which is looking less and less likely—he’ll be back again tomorrow. And the day after. Until Jason gives in, or they go home. Hell, he might keep it up at home, too. Just to make sure this doesn’t happen again.

“Fine,” Jason says shortly. He’s smart enough to realize when the only way out is through. He plops down in his chair, so close to Tim their knees are almost touching. “Give me your hand.”

[gabessquishytum]

Oh man, one single line at the end of the bath attendant au post sent my mind to a very specific place and I'm a slut for misunderstandings and I'm making it everyone's problem now.

Dream was pretty blissed out when Hob left, but he figured it was fine, it was just a hookup, and he's seen Hob around a decent amount so there's a good chance he'll see him again and maybe they can get to know each other more. Then he finally gets up and sees the money on top of his robe.

Dream is livid.

(Well, actually he's hurt. But it's easier to be angry.)

He thought he and Hob had some kind of connection, especially since Hob was so nice and attentive to him, but apparently Hob just thought Dream was a whore. He gets dressed, and angrily shoves the money into another attendant's hand, and goes to scrub off all the sweet scented oils that Hob massaged into his skin because now it just makes him feel dirty.

When Hob and his mates come back the next week, Hob is eager to see Dream again. Instead, the second they lock eyes, Dream is glaring daggers at him and turning heel to stalk away. Confused, he follows after him, ignoring the wolf whistles from his friends (which Dream hears too, and it just makes him more hurt heartbroken humiliated fucking pissed).

Eventually Hob corners him, teasingly asking why Dream is being such a brat, and Dream just snaps. He's not yelling loudly, doesn't want to attract attention, but he doesn't need to. The way he hisses and snarls and gets in Hob's space is plenty effective. Hob is a lot bigger than Dream, and he knows from experience that he can manhandle Dream pretty well, but right now he feels like a house pet facing down a feral cat, tail between his legs and utterly outmatched when faced with teeth and claws and vicious rage.

(He's also very much marked down as scared AND horney, Dream is hot as hell when he's angry and he really needs his dick to calm down until he can sort this out.)

He pieces together what happened, how Dream assumed the money left for him was a payment for sex, and how dare Hob treat him like a prostitute, how dare he disrespect him like that, he was probably laughing at him with all his shitty friends and Dream will NOT stand for it- and for the first time Hob completely drops the cocky attitude. He had meant the tip as a gift for a clearly underappreciated worker, and also a bit as a cheeky little joke, he honestly hadn't meant to offend (it occurs to him suddenly that Dream has never laughed at any of his or his friends' jokes, so yeah maybe he should have thought that one through a little more).

Also, he's realizing right now this moment that he likes Dream- not just as an amazing hookup, he cares about hurting Dream's feelings and he genuinely wants to make it right.

Once Dream is done ranting, still glaring like he could kill Hob with a stare, Hob gives him a very sincere apology, explaining that he hadn't meant the money to be taken that way, and then he gets to work groveling as long as it takes to get back in Dream's good graces because he canNOT let this one get away.

(Said groveling ranges from lecturing his friends to be more respectful to service workers, to letting Dream fuck his face hard and fast. Hob is good at groveling, so Dream will forgive him. Eventually.)

Aksdjfjfjfj yeah this au if so good <3 here's the link to the original!!!

I love this expansion on the idea. Hob being a himbo and just trying to be good and nice and maybe even impress Dream by being funny?? Very in character. He's an idiot and I love that about him.

I'm also just thinking that Dream (who is skinny and frail) pressing Hob (who is big and strong) up against the wall and giving him an absolute chewing out - "I'm not your whore, you can take your filthy money and your stinking little friends and you can get out of here before I make you!" - is very very sexy. Hob is looking into Dream’s startlingly blue eyes and he's falling in love while also mentally facepalming himself for being such an idiot. He lets Dream say what he needs to say and tries not to be obviously aroused by the display of anger because that probably wouldn't be helpful right now. And when Dream is done, he gives a very simple verbal apology... and then he slides down to his knees on the hard tiled floor.

Dream was expecting excuses, maybe an apology if he was lucky. He stares down at Hob suspiciously, and Hob stares back. He leans forward and presses his cheek against the outline of Dream’s cock through his robe, as though requesting permission. And Dream decides to make him wait.

Hob is left to kneel with his mouth sooo close to Dream’s cock. Drool starts to build up and slide from his lips, but he doesn't shift or make a sound. He just fixes his big brown eyes on Dream’s face, and waits for permission. And naturally, Dream finds this act of literal grovelling devastatingly sexy.

At last he grabs Hob by the jaw and forces his mouth open. Hob is pliant and willing and when he gets the sudden mouthful of cock, he tries so hard not to choke. He wants this to be the best apology ever.

Dream certainly milks it for all it's worth. He gives Hob a very thorough facial and makes sure than his cum drips all over, from the cute cleft in his chin all the way to his hairline. Hob accepts it all, and only moves to lick a bit off his lips, moaning as he tastes it. It's very hard for Dream to stay mad with Hob looking so thoroughly sorry.

And Hob does explain (in a slightly rougher voice than before) that he genuinely isn't cruel or disrespectful. He's just an idiot. And he'd very much like to continue showing Dream how sorry he is. He's been fingering his hole every night since he last visited the bathhouse, hoping to be able to show off for Dream. Does he still have a chance?

Of course the answer is yes. But Dream can't resist tucking the money that Hob left for him last time into one of Hob’s own pockets. Maybe they'll keep swapping the money back and forth... or maybe Hob will use to buy a nice trinket for Dream instead. It's too early for rings, but he'd look beautiful with a ruby pendant, right? <3

[catreginae]

Thou Shalt Not Fall: The Past - Teaching Old Vampires New Tricks

The vampires try to train Link in all things vampire… but it doesn't go the way it usually goes. The vampires begin to realize that Link isn't quite the same as the other vampires.

I'm sorry this took so long! It just took its time in the oven but it's here now! Also, I wanted to save it for the 2nd anniversary of Thou Shalt Not Fall! Happy birthday to my funny little vampire dude!

Link was impressed with Elena's set up. Their estate was large, though the part of the estate the vampires lived in was much smaller than the part of the estate that the Hylians lived in. From the ground floor up, it was everything he expected of a manor for nobles – there was a lot of furniture for people to converse in, art hanging from the walls and sculptures on display, and the constant bustle of people who he assumed worked there. The upper floors had bedrooms, though Link only saw inside the guest ones.

The vampires resided in the basement and, with the basement being underground, there were no windows – and therefore no sun – to worry about. The vampires didn't seem to care for art as much as the nobles upstairs did, but the amount of furniture they had rivalled the amount of furniture that the Hylian nobles had, even though their space was a bit smaller.

However, one thing he found was that everything was too loud and the amount of different things he could smell was overwhelming. He hadn't really noticed how his senses changed since he was stuck in his room for so long, but now that he wasn't just stuck in his room it was way too much. Link finished the tour with Elena and went back into his room.

“I admit, it's been a long time since I was in your place,” Walter, one of the vampires, said as Link laid on his bed with the pillow held to his face again. He invited himself inside and sat down by the foot of his bed. “Most people are turned by other vampires and only surrounded by other vampires, so we don't usually have to uh... quarantine new vampires to the point where something like this happens. It should only take a few days before you adjust.”

Link hissed in response. He didn't know where the hissing was coming from, but he found it worked well enough. Besides, he liked the way his throat and chest rumbled to make the noise in the first place. Walter laughed.

“You have a lot to catch up now that you don't have to be a hermit, but we'll take it one step at a time.”

He groaned. Just how long was he going to be stuck here?

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

Walter was right. In a couple of days it was no longer so overwhelming to be about in the manor, but he still had to be accompanied by another vampire. So far that job seemed to fall to Walter. Link didn't mind that so much.

One day, while Link was in his room after drinking a cup of blood, Walter asked to see the mark of his blessing. Usually he wouldn't show it off so easily because, for some reason, it felt kind of private. The fact that he was the hero and had a piece of the Triforce was no secret, not even to the general population, but that didn't mean he went around showing it off. Walter seemed so excited though and Link was already more comfortable with Walter than he was with most of his soldiers, so he held out his hand and let Walter hold it. Walter ran his thumb over the mark.

“There it is. Have you always had it?”

“The Triforce? I don't know. The mark wasn't always there, though. It appeared after my first, true battle. It was during a time of need and while it didn't protect me completely, the person I was with came out unscathed.”

“Interesting! Can you feel it or is it just a mark?”

“I mean, the mark kind of burns sometimes when all three pieces are in proximity of each other, but otherwise having the mark doesn't feel any different than not having it.”

Suddenly, Walter's thumb moved from the mark on his hand to the scars instead. Link raised an eyebrow as the other vampire massaged his scarred hand, like he was trying to erase them.

“I'm sure Elena has told you that we vampires are able to regenerate. If I got stabbed with a sword right now, the wound would heal almost instantly. There's a few catches though – one is that you will only ever be restored how you were when you were turned. These scars will always remain, but you will never get a new one.”

“What are the other catches?” Link asked.

“Wounds involving our weaknesses take longer to heal. If you were burnt by fire for example, the burns would take longer to heal than a regular stab wound. If the weaknesses don't kill you, they will take longer to heal. Also, you need to have blood in your system to regenerate, otherwise you'll just sit with the wounds,” he said with a smile that seemed almost... nostalgic. “You will live, of course. Our bodies are much more durable than that of a normal mortal. Hunting troublesome vampires is actually quite a revered career abroad, due to how hard vampires are to kill.”

It was a lot to take in but his life did change a lot in the last two weeks, or three if he counted the week he spent wondering what was happening to him before he woke up in the manor. Regardless, he’s been a vampire for less than a month and at some point he was supposed to be independent. If he wanted to go back to Mask and Tune and help figure out why they were still here, he had to figure it all out. His job as a hero would make it impossible for him to lean on the vampires as much as he currently was. Maybe if he treated the whole thing like a class that had some sort of test at the end, it would be easier for him to take it all in.

“So we're essentially a meat shield.”

Walter chuckled. “If you choose to be, I suppose. Getting wounded still hurts, even if we heal quickly, so you should keep that in mind.”

Link merely hummed. He could handle some pain.

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

One of his first lessons involved Elena bringing in another glass of blood while he was sitting by the fireplace with Walter, though the smell of it wasn't quite as strong as he was used to. The reason was that the top of the cup was covered by some leather, with the excess folded over and tied to the cup with a bit of twine. He poked the leather and found that he could feel the blood moving underneath.

“You have to figure out how to use your fangs now. When you leave the estate, people aren't going to be around to serve you glasses of blood. You will have to source it yourself.”

Link looked from the covered cup of blood back to Walter and Elena.

“We can suck blood up with our fangs,” Walter supplied. “There's tiny grooves on the back of our fangs that channels blood from the source and into our mouth. You just have to bite and suck.”

Link almost laughed because the image that popped into his head at Walter's words had nothing to do with the cup of blood he was holding. Instead, he steeled himself and focused on the cup. With some ease, he summoned his fangs and used his fangs to pierce the leather cover. Following Walter's advice, he was surprised to find that he could taste it on his tongue. He swallowed it and pulled his fangs out.

“That felt... strange.”

But also good . It felt good to have his teeth buried in something. 

Elena smiled. “Very nice. You can have the rest of that – drink as much as you can with just your fangs but I don't expect you to get to the bottom. Maybe you can go hunting soon. We drink animal blood for the most part because the Hylians will drain the blood from the game they catch before they use the rest of the animal for themselves, but we do drink monster blood if monsters happen to be too close.”

Link considered that as he continued to drink the blood with his fangs planted back into the leather cover. Monster blood was probably going to be his best bet. He could sneak away from the castle or any campsite the army made, kill a monster, and drink its blood. Of course, not all monsters looked easy to drink from. Could his fangs pierce the scales of a lizalfos? He had no idea how sharp his fangs actually were. 

Walter frowned. “Monster blood is kind of... icky.”

“It's his best bet though. I have no doubt he fights and kills plenty of them. It's just a matter of going back to the bodies when he can sneak away, drain them, then chop their heads off.”

“You're not wrong but it's not helpful if he can't stomach it.”

“Maybe that's just you,” Elena said with a shrug. “The rest of us can drink it even if it's not the tastiest.”

“My lady, you wound me,” Walter whined. Then, he turned towards Link and pulled him close. “You will know what I mean.”

“I'm not interested in settling some sort of argument between you two,” Link muttered when he withdrew his fangs from the cover to take it off completely. What did he have to do to drink some blood in peace? It only occurred to him a second later that it was a strange thought for him to have. A month ago, the thought of drinking blood would have disgusted him. 

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

“Is monster blood actually disgusting?” Link asked as carefully ducked under a tree branch that Marcus was short enough to simply walk under. The younger-yet-older vampire had yet to turn back to look at him at once so Link knew not to push his mood too much, especially since he didn't know exactly where Marcus was taking him. He knew Hyrule pretty well but he didn't know the region where the estate was that well.

Especially in the dark. His eyesight was better, especially when he had his fangs out, but that didn't mean he recognized the way it looked in the moonlight.

“It's not that bad. Walter is just being dramatic about it. It's not as good as animal or human blood but it should do just fine. You might actually enjoy it more.”

Link didn't say anything. He was... kind of confused. Why would he enjoy blood that didn't taste as good?

“I don't feel bad about killing monsters. It's the only time I get to go all out these days. Their blood might not taste as good but it's kind of fun to drink every last job. Trust me. You'll get it.”

They continued to walk in silence for another fifteen minutes or so when the smell on the wind changed. He wrinkled his nose. Marcus finally stopped and turned around, his fangs visible and his eyes changed. “Smell it?”

“I smell… something?”

“Hmph. Follow me.”

In a blink of an eye, Marcus practically disappeared, speeding away with a speed Warriors never saw before. Was he supposed to be able to go that fast? Maybe if his fangs were out he could. Marcus had his fangs out at any rate. Well, either way, he wasn't getting anywhere without running even if it was at the pace he always knew.

He started running and picking up a pace he never managed to reach before. He was always able to run fast, part of the reason why he did so well in training, but he never ran so fast before. He quickly realized that his pace was too fast though. He could barely see where he was going. He had even less of an opportunity to change direction to dodge any obstacles, so when he saw the tree in front of him, he knew there wasn't much, if anything, he could do.

At first, he only knew he hit the tree when he stopped moving. For a blissful moment, there was no pain, just a momentary pause in reality before it all caught up with him and he could feel the blood drop down his face. The pain came shortly after, burning in his forehead. He groaned and sat up, shooting a glare at the tree as he rose to his feet. He stumbled once but he found his balance quickly. He felt his forehead. He could feel where the skin split but he would have to get a better look later. For the time being, he had to find the little bastard that left him behind.

Apparently, he didn't need to bother, as he could see Marcus coming out from behind the trees.

“What's taking you so long?”

Link merely shot him a glare.

“I see you didn't see a tree,” Marcus said with a smirk but frowned when he saw the wound. “That should have healed by now.”

Link stayed silent, completely unsure of what Marcus could possibly expect him to say. Like, why mention it? He was then further thrown off when Marcus' feet left the ground and he just sort of hovered in front of him, inspecting the wound with a confused frown. He didn't say anything more about it when his feet touched the ground again.

“Well, you still need to learn how to hunt. Come along.”

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

The vampires were looking at him more closely since he came back from the hunting trip with Marcus. Clearly, there was something weird about his wound. He knew vampires healed fast and he did! The gash on his head was all healed by the time they returned so he didn't understand what the big deal was. He would have never healed that fast without a potion a month ago. 

Either way, they were watching him, and he was aware of the fact that he was being watched when they led him to a large, empty room. It had a surprisingly high ceiling for a room that was underground but he wouldn’t be surprised if Elena designed the entire manor from top to bottom and specifically planned for a large, underground room with high ceilings.

“This is our sparring room,” Elena stated. Today, she ditched her usual elegant dress for a hooded purple tunic, black leggings, and knee high boots. In fact, all of them were wearing pants that day, something that struck Link as more functional than he was used to seeing them all wear. They were definitely planning on it. “It’s time for us to work on developing your powers. Even if you don’t use them, working on control will help prevent you from using them accidentally.”

Walter came to his side and patted him on the shoulder. “It feels like flexing a muscle. It should come naturally.”

Link wasn’t so sure about that. Sure, running faster than he ever did in his life came naturally, but the control over his fangs didn’t. His control over his fangs wasn’t perfect either, though he did have a better grasp of his fangs than he did when he first discovered he had them. As if sensing his apprehension, Walter elaborated.

“It’s like controlling your fangs. You just have to want to do it. It’s about intention. Just watch us.”

There was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time. Vampires could fly – that was what Marcus was doing before when he was checking his forehead earlier. Good to know. Link was aware of the superhuman speed but the superhuman strength was new, which was proven when Marcus kicked Walter into the wall with such strength that the wall cracked and crumbled. Elena looked at the damage with a shake of her head but she was judging them with her feet firmly planted on the ceiling. Last but not least, was the hypnosis, which was something that Link couldn’t even try to practice with them – apparently, only Elena was able to hypnotize other vampires. They would have to bring in a Hylian and Link didn’t want to inconvenience any of them.

For the first couple of days, Link simply watched the other vampires, hoping that if he just studied long enough, he could figure out how to replicate what they could do. 

But when several days passed, he was growing increasingly frustrated. The speed and strength was something that did actually come naturally – as long as he had his fangs out and focused, the speed and strength came. He couldn’t say the same about anything else. No matter how often Marcus, Walter, and Audrey threw him around the room, he always hit a wall or floor. He couldn’t recover by floating or flying. At most, he could tuck himself in and roll, minimizing the damage he was receiving. 

Elena also tried to help him walk on the ceiling and the walls, or ‘wall-crawl’ as they put it. She would hold him by the shoulders or waist, he would take a couple of steps, and fell whenever she let go.

The only nice part about those days was Beth, the vampire who only looked to be around thirteen at the most. She helped him get back on his feet, always found himself some blood to drink when the others were done for the day, and tried her best to say something encouraging when she saw him. She was starting to remind him of Mask. 

He missed that little brat. He missed all of them. 

“We’re taking a break for a few days,” Elena announced as she started inspecting his growing collection of partially healed bones and cuts. Link was sitting up in bed while Elena sat beside him. She pressed her fingers into his forearm and he couldn’t help but to hiss in response as pain shot up his entire arm. “Not because I don’t believe in you but because this is clearly taking a toll on you.”

“Let me guess, I should have healed already,” Link muttered.

“Your regeneration is definitely abnormal. I haven’t seen a vampire recover as slowly as you. I feel as though I’m missing something…” She lowered his arm and put a hand on the shoulder that wasn’t connected to his broken arm. “I’m sorry, Link. I treated you as I would treat any other vampire but you aren’t like other vampires. Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that you were turned by magic. Either way, we should have met you where you were, not where we expected you to be. That’s our fault.”

She let out a sigh when Link said nothing further.

“Link, do you plan on using your powers?”

“Do I even really have them?”

“I’m sure you have them,” Elena said quietly. “We just don’t know how to bring them out. It’s not your fault. ”

Link rolled his eyes and settled his head into his fist before he remembered that his arm was broken and that it hurt to do that. It wasn’t Elena that was the source of his frustration. Clearly, they had no idea how to help him with his powers, despite that being the entire reason why he was even there to begin with. What made him so different? He just didn’t get it. 

“I don’t think it’s worth pursuing it,” Link muttered. He was just tired and he didn’t know where it came from. He knew what it was like to keep running forward, no matter what was going on in the background. He knew what it was like to get beaten down and get back up again. That was the basis of his military career. He was getting back up ever since he started dabbling in swordplay as a child. He wasn’t used to giving up but there he was, telling the strongest vampire in Hyrule that he didn’t want to figure out these powers that he may or may not have.

“If that’s what you want, then we will refocus. We’ll make sure you’re confident in feeding yourself and being around people without craving anything,” she said with a smile. “And if you ever change your mind down the road, we’ll be here.”

He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t Elena taking his response so easily.

“Thank you.”

“Now, I’ll let the others know to let you rest up. I’m not sure why your regeneration is so slow but getting some sleep might help you out. I’ll be back later with some blood.”

She left just a moment later. Link sighed. He laid himself flat on his bed, pulled the covers up, and rested his broken arm on his chest. He was pretty damn tired.

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

One of the things that puzzled the vampires was the fact that he was still attracted to the smell of the kitchen upstairs. His nose was sensitive enough that he could smell the Hylians upstairs cooking food from the basement if he was near the stairs or by the fireplace, and sometimes he found himself sitting outside the kitchens just to enjoy the smell. It was like the food he got in the castle, though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that the Hylian nobles fronting for the vampires would also eat well. Sometimes, he could smell the pastries and it made his mouth water.

“You shouldn't be interested in this stuff, you know,” Audrey muttered. It was one of the rare times where all five of the vampires were together outside of the training room, gathered with him outside of the kitchens. “You can't eat it. You'll just throw it up.”

“He would be new enough to remember how things taste,” Walter said with a shrug. “The mind is a powerful thing. He probably wants it because his mind is still associating the smell with how he knows solid food tastes.”

“I say we just let him eat and find out what happens,” Marcus muttered with a huff. “Besides, I never went through that.”

“He's right here,” Beth mumbled. “It's rude to talk about people like they aren't around.”

“Link, it's up to you. You can try it if you want but it won't taste like anything and you won't be able to keep it down.”

“Maybe just a spoonful? It's been a while since I had solid food.” Though by the sounds of it, he shouldn't even be worried about that. They were all pretty sure he couldn't keep it down but Link had a nagging feeling that it didn't match his experience. He didn't know when he started being a vampire, at least not down to the day, but he was still eating at the castle and he could keep it down. He didn’t get sick at all. The only thing that clued him into the fact that something was wrong was actually the fact that he didn’t feel full, no matter how much he ate. He had a constant craving that only raw meat did anything for.

Elena raised an eyebrow, then disappeared into the kitchen. She emerged a second later with what looked to be a small amount of cake on a spoon. Just enough for a bite.

“You're going to throw it up,” Audrey warned.

“If he keeps it down for a minute, I'll do more of the babysitting,” Marcus said with a smirk. Link glared at him, then took the spoon out of Elena's hand and shoved it into his mouth.

And damn, it was a good cake. Just from the small chunk he had, it was fluffy and moist and he could taste the chocolate in it! He loved chocolate, but he rarely had it with how hard it was to get, even though he lived with Zelda and could get it any time he wanted. He just felt bad for doing so. He hummed.

“Not that you guys would know, but that was an excellent cake.”

“Well, how do you feel?” Beth asked, tilting her head slightly.

It felt a little heavy but the last time he had solid food was the castle. It was kind of expected that even a small amount wouldn't exactly settle well in his stomach. He didn't feel nauseous though. He said as much out loud, much to the shock of all the vampires in the hallway. All of them, except for Elena, were looking at each other with quirked eyebrows and frowns. Marcus started chewing on his lips with his fangs as he tried to study Link, like he was looking for any sign that would win his little bet after all.

“Really? Not even a little nauseous?”

“You really don't like me, do you?” Link said, rolling his eyes. He wished he had more cake to rub into Marcus' face, but he was sure if he had much more, he would throw it up with how long he went without solid food. He knew that in cases where somebody was starved, you couldn't just feed them a full meal again. He would have to work his way back up to solids, all the while keeping up with all the blood he had to drink to keep himself sane. 

“I've never seen a vampire eat solid food and keep it down,” Elena mumbled with a frown, settling her hands on her hips before she shook her head and started walking back towards the stairs that led to the basement. “I think I might have to write some letters, consult some vampires that are even older than me...”

“Ah, wait for me!” Walter called out as he scrambled to catch up with her. 

“Huh, I can’t believe you stumped Elena,” Beth said. “Good job.” 

Link found himself chewing on his lips with his fangs. Why was he so different? 

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

Link made it a habit to go into the kitchen while the cooks were working for a small bowl of food to try himself back up to eating solids again. It was part of his plans for a disguise – nobody would think anything was odd if he could eat food alongside everybody else. He could hunt for blood during the night when only a skeleton crew was around to keep watch. He just had to fix his sleeping schedule and confirm one small thing.

He wasn't scared of sunlight itself – his experience differed after all – but he was a bit worried about how he was going to test it out. Link was going to have to sneak past all the servants who knew he was a vampire. There were no windows where the vampires lived since it was underground, so he would have to make it upstairs to a window just to confirm that he could indeed handle the sunlight. Link was also going to have to stay awake since he was getting tired and finding his way back to his borrowed room around the same time the other vampires did.

Link decided to take his chances on a day where he noticed that there were fewer servants around than usual. The vampires usually had a few servants around during the day who did some chores before they left to go back upstairs – he could hear them doing things in the basement on days where he wasn’t in a deep sleep – but he heard fewer footsteps than normal. He cracked his door open, peaked outside, and left when he saw nobody in the hallways.

At this point, he was pretty comfortable navigating the manor even though he only ever ventured upstairs at night with the other vampires. The closest windows were in the hallway that led to the basement, as it gave the vampires an opportunity to see how much light there still was before they left the safety of the staircase. He was sure it was why this hallway in particular had so many damn windows.

By the time he got up there, the entire hallway was lit up by the early morning light. For a moment he hesitated, but Link didn’t get anywhere by turning back when he was scared. He took a deep breath and walked into the hallway, holding out his hand as he approached the light so that he only burnt or lost his hand if he ended up being horrifically wrong.

Nothing happened. His hand was in direct sunlight and nothing happened.

That was all Link needed to walk towards the window and look outside, letting the sun warm his face. He liked the moonlight fine enough but he did miss the sunlight. He missed how much more awake and active the world was during the day. He’d get used only being outside at night, but he was glad he didn’t have to pick and choose.

“What are you doing?” somebody asked. Before Link knew it, he was knocked to the floor towards the stairs and away from the sunlight. “Don’t you know that sunlight is dangerous for vampires?”

Link wiggled out from under whoever tackled him, finding it to be one of the servants that was often in the basement, although he didn’t know her name. To her credit, she was a lot stronger than she looked. “Did it look like it was bad for me?”

The woman paused, but he didn’t get another word in before he could feel the presence of one of the other vampires on the stairs behind him. Marcus. Despite being shorter than Link, and younger if they were both Hylian, Marcus made him feel small, like he was just a little trainee again.

“What are you doing now?” Marcus asked, glaring at Link.

“He was at the windows, in the sun.”

Marcus raised his eyebrows, looking between Link, the servant, and the rays of sunlight in the hallway. Suddenly, the other vampire grabbed his arm and started to drag him down the stairs. He didn’t even give Link a chance to get his feet on the floor but he managed to find his footing quickly.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

He didn’t get a response. Marcus dragged him down the stairs, down a hallway he wasn’t familiar with but he knew that was where some of the vampires slept during the day. He picked a door at the end of the hallway and let himself inside. The first thing Link noticed was the large canopy bed in the middle of the room, which used a dark, lacy fabric for the curtains. He also noticed a couple of torches mounted to the wall, though only one was lit, and a thick red carpet under the bed.

“Elena! Your little project can sit in sunlight and not burn into a crisp!” Marcus called out.

“He can what?” Elena asked quietly as she shuffled around in her bed and opened the curtains of her bed. It was the first time he saw Elena dressed down, wearing only a white, loose nightgown.

“Sunlight doesn’t bother him.”

She sat up straighter and swung her legs so that they dangled off of the side of her bed. “Link, come closer.”

Marcus let him go so that he could. She grabbed his left hand, her hand brushing over the mark of his blessing. She studied his hand. Her intense gaze made him nervous but he stayed silent. Marcus stayed at her door.

“In some ways, you’re exactly like us. Your eyes look the same, your fangs work the same way, blood helped calm you down the first time you came here, and you wouldn’t be able to stomach blood at all if you weren’t a vampire. On the other hand, you can eat solid food and withstand sunlight. You aren’t human, but you aren’t quite a vampire either. I wonder if it’s because you're a carrier of a piece of the golden power that you ended up somewhere in the middle instead.”

“I heard something about Link and sunlight?” Walter asked, his voice drifting in from the door.

“Back when we were in Labrynna, there were plenty of vampires who said that they, or another vampire friend of theirs, knew somebody who was born from a union of a vampire and a human. However, whenever they were asked to prove that this being existed, no proof was ever offered. You may very well be the first half-vampire anybody’s ever seen.”

“You really think so?” Marcus asked.

“Do you have a better explanation for what we’ve noticed?” Elena asked.

Walter hummed. “Half-vampire, huh? Can the Triforce really do that? Just make him half-vampire instead of a regular vampire?”

“It’s protected me before,” Link muttered. He couldn’t think of anything else, unless that weird spell that Cia hit him with only intended to turn him into a half-vampire instead of a full vampire in the first place. He doubted that was the case though. Cia didn’t seem to be the kind to half-ass things. “What do we do now?”

Elena grabbed his other hand so that she held both, then looked into his eyes. “The same thing we were going to do. We’ll make sure you can feed yourself and stay in control. We’ll make sure you can pass as Hylian as much as possible. Once that is done, we’ll send you back to the world so you can do what you have to do. If you have the time and you ever need us... we’ll be here.”

[scattered-debris]

#FFF229

A/N: yay for first submissions. (just realized time zones make this late whoops--regardless). I had seen a post on here discussing the Scott Pilgrim comic, which had a clip of Ramona explaining the concept of subspace highways to Scott. I wanted to riff on the idea, so here's that.

"Well, are you sure this is the way?"

"I mean, I think so, this is what the map says."

"The map has been glitching out ever since we got it! It told us to get off of Sub-I-A where there wasn't even an exit, and that was a highway. There's no way it's going to know where a subspace road is."

"We'll just have to feel it out then, won't we? Put our academy lessons to good use."

"Ugh, you know I hated those exercises, especially that one. Like--"

Hands spread out in front of them, or they would've if they had actual hands in this sub-cranial region. This motion was lost on Everett, who also could not see Jamie's hands (or lack thereof).

"--there's nothing here!"

The statement rang out into nothingness. Or really, rang out into Jamie and Everett's temporary neural link they used for communicating, and at a volume a touch too loud for Everett's liking.

"We'll be fine. Here you go first, and I can help get you started."

Jamie stepped out ahead of Everett. Thankfully, they had a sense of where the other was, but that luxury was only in place so they didn't drop into each others subconscious. It took far too long to convince their boss it was a necessary mod to install. Unthankfully, the sense of each other was about the only sense they got. Once, little underlings had asked Jamie to describe what they saw when travelling through someone else's subconscious via subspace highway, not knowing that it was a question neural scientists had been debating about for the past four sub-cranial conferences. Jamie had answered, "Uh, gray?" before the little underlings sighed and moved on. Really, Jamie thought subspace travel looked like how white noise sounded, but hadn't been able to articulate that very well on the spot. 

"Ok, so right now, you're on the road. Can you feel it?"

"No, Everett."

"Then take a step to your left, you'll be off of the road. Can you feel the difference?"

"Not really?"

Everett sighed inwardly. Jamie heard it.

"What does it feel like to you, Everett? Maybe that will help. Here you go." Jamie stepped back. Everett stepped forward, and pacing left and right slowly, humming. 

"It feels a little clearer-- being off the road, surprisingly. Like, when I'm off it, I have more of a sense of where I'm going, what I'm doing. When I'm on the road..." Everett paused, then started again. "I mean, think about it: the whole reason subspace travel works is because we're relying on people's neural pathways to move around. We're stuffing our consciousness into theirs for a brief period of time, and the particular neural pathway we end up using might not line up with ours. So everything gets all hazy, ya know? Nebulous."

Jamie said nothing and stepped forward. The subspace input jumbled in Jamie's head. It was everywhere, like getting full-body pins and needles while watching TV static and listening to white noise. It caused an odd, simultaneous feeling of nothingness, nowhere-ness, to Jamie, what they imagined floating in a sensory deprivation tank would be like. They felt Everett cringe at the image. But underneath all the input, Jamie felt (saw? heard?) what they hadn't before. If those underlings asked again, Jamie would say now that it felt like a river. An extremely subtle, but stubborn current, a silent riptide that would lead Jamie...somewhere. Jamie could guess where they and Everett would end up, but the current was certainly unsympathetic to it. 

"It's funny. It's kind of contradictory when you think about it. A road is a defined means by which to travel. It's not a trail, or a footpath, it's something established. But this one is hazy--nebulous, like you said-- and it's existence, what sets it apart from the rest of the subconscious for us, is its very obfuscation. A subspace road is a freakin' oxymoron."

"Huh!" Jamie felt Everett's consciousness return next to theirs. "Yeah, you're right. I didn't even think about that." What Jamie guessed was their heads both looked out onto the road. 

"Well, whatever. Come on, let's go. A road doesn't stop being a road, no matter how confusing it is, and we gotta get to the next sub-cranial region."

@flashfictionfridayofficial

[bripops]

omg I'm so giddy I cannot decide which WIP to ask you about because they all sound flipping amazing but maybe 3 or 6, whichever you feel happiest with rn? (ps first time caller, long time listener -- just wanna say I'm a huge huge fan of all your fics)

AHH OMG I DIDN'T THINK ANYONE WOULD ACTUALLY ASK ME ANYTHING, YOU GET ALL OF THE ABOVE

3. hopeless, breathless, burning slow [horny dirk gently treatise]

So this one is actually published [ao3 link], but I put it in there because it was published recently and I thought the working title was funny lmao. It was honestly a classic example of this post that's like "yeah bro it's a character study. the 2 thousand words of blowjob is vital to the study of the character" where I wanted to write Dirk getting absolutely railed but I also wanted to talk about why getting absolutely railed is a profound, important thing to him. 5,000 words later, that was the result lol

6. it's dangerous (I'm falling) [megstiel fuckfest]

okay so I've been on the megstiel hype squad forever and got the idea a few years back for a s7 canon divergence AU. the basic plot is that after Cas takes on Sam's madness, he ends up giving his grace to the Winchesters to use as a nuke against the Leviathans, and Meg ends up in the same caretaker role for him because he's not quite human but he's also definitely not an angel and needs to be kept out of the way while they figure it all out. the two of them end up in a shitty apartment trying to figure out where Castiel's limits are, which is of course a deeply satisfying experience for Meg that turns sexual REALLY quickly. they bond over shared trauma, daddy issues, teaching Cas how to smoke a joint, and sexually charged sparring scenes. here's a snippet:

“Tell me about the stars, Clarence,” Meg said lazily, looking up at the sky. The city lights washed out a lot of them, but they could still see a few burning above the haze. 

“What would you like to know?” Castiel asked. 

Meg shrugged. “I dunno,” she said, “weren’t you there when they were created or some shit? Gimme something that’ll come in handy at trivia night.”

“You don’t go to trivia night,” Cas said, “and the stars came before I did. They were part of let there be light. I have no memory of their creation.”

“Make something up then,” Meg said. “What about that one?”

She pointed up, and Castiel was more or less able to follow to the star she was looking at. It was particularly bright, blinking in the night sky and if he focused, he could almost make out the shift in color.

“That’s a binary star,” he explained. “It looks like one point of light, but it’s two stars orbiting around a common center. In a few million years they’ll collide and be destroyed on impact.”

“Well shit,” Meg said, pulling another joint out of her pack of cigarettes. Her lighter flickered in the dark and she inhaled deeply. Wordlessly, not looking away from the sky, she held it out to Cas.

He shook his head first before realizing she wouldn’t see it. “No thank you,” he said, “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough.” His throat was still raw from coughing his way through the first joint.

“Oh come on,” Meg said, propping herself up on her elbows and looking over at Cas. “I’m sure you have a few more hits in you.”

Castiel shook his head again now that she could see him do it, and enjoyed the way his body hummed with the movement. He was relaxed head to toe, his fingertips tingling and his skin hyper-sensitive to every shift against the blanket, every brush of the breeze on his face.

Meg took another hit, and blew the smoke into Castiel’s face. He grumbled, closing his eyes against the sting, and Meg laughed.

“How about we shotgun it,” she offered.

“I don't see what firearms have to do with this," Cas said, frowning. Now probably wasn't the best time to check if he could still shoot a gun; he hadn't even brought one.

Meg laughed. “Oh my god, you’ve been alive for thousands of years and still act like you were born yesterday. C’mere.”

Cas shifted up so he was propped on his elbows too and looked at Meg curiously.

“When I breathe out, you breathe in, okay?”

“What--” Castiel started to say, but she was already taking a drag.

Cas watched her do it, transfixed by the easy way her lips wrapped around the joint and how her chest rose as she inhaled. When she’d taken enough, Meg leaned in close until she was just a few inches from Castiel’s lips. He wondered, in a fuzzy-minded daze, if he was about to be kissed.

Instead, smoke poured out of her mouth, and remembering to do what he was told, Cas breathed in. He filled his lungs, but it burned less, and he was too distracted by Meg’s closeness to mind much.

“Better?” she asked with a smirk.

Cas exhaled, watching the smoke spiral towards the sky.

“Much,” he said, lying back down. He had a full-body buzz that felt like TV static on his brain, making his limbs heavy and his eyes close. He felt Meg shift next to him, and when Castiel opened his eyes again she was leaning over him, almost nose-to-nose.

It was a testament to the weed that he didn’t startle, just blinked up at her.

“Want another?”

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Wayward Waters Chapter 1

——————————————————————————

Hello everyone! finally Posting ARC 3 now!

time to have them explore more of the world!

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

have fun reading!

and as always reblogs are appreciated! (Also ASK’s are open so feel free to bother me!)

AO3 Link for those that prefer the layout there;

AO3 Wayward Waters

——————————————————————————

Sleeping was nice, being woken up not so much.

Being woken up by Nea was even worse.

Which was proven by the fact that she barged in and then pelted one of Robin's shoes which were still on the floor right onto my shoulder.

I jolted awake and onto all fours, tensing my muscles and squishing Robin in the process who squirmed in surprise.

Clenching my muscles I immobilized him, 

I could absolutely NOT let Nea or anyone else know about this.

Luckily he seemed to get it as I told Nea off for waking me like that.

“Nea! Can't you wake me like a normal person? 

Or do ANYthing normally for that matter?”

She just shrugged and I could feel Robin freeze extremely still at the mention of her name.

He was well aware that Nea could and would cut me open if she thought anything amiss.

Luckily the woman didn't seem to care about the ginger's whereabouts and had more fun antagonizing me.

“Eh, i'm not normal, so i dun have ta do anythin normally, 

now get yer fuzzy ass up, shoes on and get yer rust headed friend,  Rikaad wanted ta talk ta both of ya!”

With those words, and the second shoe thrown in my general direction she went out the door.

Untensing to give the little human in my pouch more room I spoke.

“I need to get a lock installed, the sooner the better, Robin? She’s gone and i think she confused your shoes for mine, so we are in luck this time”

He wiggled a little, which admittedly felt a bit funny, and addressed me.

“A lock sounds good, also what did she throw at you?  My shoes? It sounded like it”

I nodded before recalling he couldn't see that.

“Uh yeah right at my shoulder too, but lucky not at the injured one so im fine, but damn that crazy lady needs to calm down, or a punching bag”

“I think everyone is kind of her punching bag, what did she even want?”

“She said Rikaad wanted to see us, no idea what for though,  so brace yourself i'm gonna let you out”

I could feel him turn around at my words and while he did that I snagged one of the many towels that were strewn about.

Then I worked to bring the tiny redhead out of my pouch and into the bright world again.

What time was it anyway? 

With how much light came in it looked like it was around midday.

As soon as the ginger was out I tossed the towel over him which he immediately used to dry himself while I shrunk down to human height.

Being nice I slid his shoes over the floor closer to him while picking my own out of some hay.

While doing that my eyes fell on the weird Logos book that Oakley had given me and Fable, as a means to communicate despite him going around traveling the world.

I'd use it after talking to Rikaad, After all, my brother had only left like twenty four hours ago so there couldn't be that many interesting things since then.

I did wonder though what Rikaad could have summoned us for,  but if we had to talk to him anyway i might as well ask about getting a lock installed.

Messily brushing my hair for all of twenty seconds i followed Robin outside of my shed only to realize i had no idea where the fuck Rikaad was.

Nea hadn't said anything about that, just that he wanted to see us,  and of course the crazy Guard was nowhere in sight now.

“Where did Nea say we had to go?”

I turned to Robin not sure what to answer as I had no clue.

“Uh, i don't know, Nea just said to talk to Rikaad, and then threw the other shoe before leaving, i guess we could try the throne room?  If he's not there we can just ask someone”

That seemed reasonable enough, usually larger meetings were held in the throne room or the large rooms behind it.

I still thought the architect was a drunken dumbass for building it like this but with how old the castle was they were long dead by now.

Nearing the front of the castle I could see some other people,  mainly guards, walk in and out of the throne room.

Looked like we were in the right place,  which was proven as we went inside.

It looked like it always did, with the exception of a big table in the middle that featured what looked to be a map of some islands.

At the head of the table was Rikaad, looking with an earnest expression at the map which I now noticed had little figurines on it.

I hoped that wasn't more trouble, but knowing our luck it probably was.

He looked up at the sound of Robin's footsteps, 

how he knew it was him was beyond me though.

“There you are, is Arthur with you?”

We both shook our head in unison,  which was kinda funny seeing as it was completely uncoordinated,

Rikaad looked disappointed for a moment.

“Let's wait for him, i'm not going to explain this twice”

Explain what? Did it have to do with the map? 

Looking at it it was more than likely, now that I had a closer look I could see the figurines were of either Kamerasca or Maringand ships, as well as some people and houses.

The ships, arranged in a neat formation, strangely enough rang a bell in my head but I could for the life of me not recall why.

Then Arthur ran through the door,  dodging what looked to be an armor piece.

I didn't even need to see her come in to know it was Nea who had hunted him like that, I wasn't exactly sure what was going on with the two of them but I for sure wanted no part of it.

“Found all of em! Now what's ta fuss about?”

She limped in, without crutches and I didn't doubt for a second that she had managed to break them and now simply ignored the medics orders about using them.

Arthur stood between me and Robin to negate any chance of having to be right next to Nea.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see he was a bit out of breath.

Nea then limped to the table and stood on my other side, looking intensely at the map like it would go up in flames any second now.

I looked at Rikaad who wasn't leaning over the map anymore.

Looking at it I saw a few letters in a haphazard pile next to it.

They were all upside down for me so I couldn't read it, but I had no doubt they were at least part of the reason we were called here.

I looked back up at Rikaad as he spoke.

“As some of you already know, we received letters from the Trader Islands about some Marigand ships causing havoc there by attacking other ships as well as the smaller settlements.

On my Question to the Queen of Maringand she replied that they had been sent by the old king, Winton, and did not believe any official writings about the change of rulership.

Since we can't just let them continue with this we will go there and set an end to the chaos personally.

You have been called here to either accompany me to the Islands or to watch over Kamerasca while i'm gone,  i have made a list which you can read later-”

He pointed to the longest piece of parchment on Norrins end of the Table, the Guard pointed at it as well.

“- please read it as soon as you can as i want to solve this as quickly as possible, which means we will leave tomorrow at midday on a ship”

Chaos on the trader islands? Oh that can be good, and then they didn't even believe official statements about Amicia being in power now.

Though the fact that it was maringand ships rang a bell somehow.

After thinking about it for a moment while everyone else was busy reading the list,  I remembered the fleet of ships I had seen shortly after Fable arrived.

Had winton attempted to split the army by having some of his men wreak havoc on the islands?

If so his timing skills were worse than my writing ones as this was a good two weeks too late.

Winton was an idiot with no spatial awareness so it really didn't surprise me.

Most of the people were done with the list and left to either pack whatever they needed for the Boat trip or to prepare for their new duties in the absence of the King.

So there was now enough space to read the list without bumping into anybody.

Looking it over it appeared to be sorted alphabetically but even so I couldn't find my name, nor could I find Robins who really tried to make sense of the letters despite his weird inability to read comprehensively.

So we weren't on the list, did that mean we would just stay here and do what we did the past few weeks?

If that was the case why were we even called?

Was it because Rikaad simply wanted to inform us he was leaving for a bit?

But then I realized that I hadn't seen Arthur's name either,  as well as Nea’s and Norrin’s names were absent from the list.

I looked confusedly at the taller man.

He was also still standing there,  since he wrote the list he didn't need to read it anyway.

After a majority of the other people left to go do their new tasks he addressed us.

“I didn't write your names on the list as most of your tasks will be a bit more elaborate.

For example only half the people still at this table will go with me on the Boat while the others stay behind to keep an eye on Kamerasca”

Ohh so he was probably leaving Norrin here, The man had been the head Guard for some time and knew what to do.

Before Rikaad could continue he was interrupted by Arthur.

“I am not setting a single foot on a ship! I get sick from a normal fucking chariot there is no way i’ll step on that hellish water vessel!”

Oh, right, Arthur's motion sickness would have him keeling over the side of the Boat for likely the entirety of the trip.

And I had seen how badly he took to a simple carriage,  I didn't want to imagine how horrible a ship would be for him.

Rikaad shook his head at that.

“I'm well aware of that, which is why you'll stay here and have an eye on everything together with Norrin and Nea.

He looked relieved at being able to avoid the ship but when he was told he had to work with Nea his face soured.

He didn't say anything though and I suspected the reason why Norrin was also involved in keeping an eye out was so the other two wouldn't start fighting, all that much at least.

So that left me and Robin,  I had to admit that going on a ship sounded intriguing, that was something I had never done before as I would have been killed.

I hoped I would get to go on the ship. 

I had always wanted to know what the trader islands looked like, and as far as I was aware that was where most of the cinnamon came from.

Me and Robin were addressed next while Arthur and Nea left, glaring at each other all the while until Norrin stepped between them.

“As for you two, you can join me on the ship if you want, you don't have to but I would very much like some familiar and trusted faces near me”

That did sound logical, with Nea and Norrin here there wouldn't be all too many of the more familiar faces, and having someone on Board he knew he could trust would probably set him at ease a bit more.

“Also quite frankly now that nobody else is listening I really need to get away from all the paper stuff if just for a little bit,  which is why I'm going personally and didn't send someone else”

Ah, so even Rikaad could have enough of trying to catch up with all that, understandable, i would have given up long ago.

“Yeah i was wondering how you were managing not to go mad with all of that”

Robin piped up from where he had stared at the map.

“Oh wait, what should I pack? Aside from clothing i mean”

Rikaad answered quickly enough.

“Whatever you want as long as you can carry it yourself,  but maybe leave behind what you don't want to get wet”

Oh right, there would be water, lots of it,  What if I dropped the Logos book?

“Well, i'll leave you two to sorting your own stuff till next midday, please don't oversleep, we will meet at the gate and don't forget your stuff”

So we would leave tomorrow then,  which meant packing my sparse stuff into a bag and walking to the harbor with the rest of the people coming along.

I wondered how big the ship would be.

I nodded at Rikaad who was now rolling up the Map and sorting the other paper back into a more organized pile.

I was already thinking of what to take with me,  aside from the normal necessities.

I debated if I should bring the Logos Book with me while Robin dragged me outside again before running off to put his stuff together while I continued to my shed.

On one hand the Logos book was my only way of communicating with Fable, on the other I didn't know if it was waterproof.

Also if I dropped it and it fell into the ocean I would never find it again.

It would probably be better to leave it here than risk somehow losing it or getting it destroyed by saltwater.

Maybe I could practice some of my writing while on the boat? 

My writing currently was awful,  not only spelling wise but also just plain ugly to look at.

Still, I'd better inform Fable about that so he wouldn't have to worry.

Opening the door to the shed I went right for the Logos book and retreated up to the loft as that was the only place with a proper desk.

Which meant it was the only place that had ink in my entire room that I could use.

Putting the book on the worn wood I opened the first page only to see a beautiful sketch of a Bird sitting in a tree.

The Bird itself was a Robin.

Underneath the drawing where a few words

Look, it's your friend! I saw him at Dawn after leaving.

Man, Fables handwriting was already way better than mine,  and i couldn't detect any spelling mistakes.

But I had to admit the drawing was pretty,  and the joke he made was a tiny bit funny.

So much for not having a sense of humor.

Well, time to answer, and inform him about not being able to reply for some time to whatever he wrote to me.

Hello Fable | im sory for my bad hanwritting 

Nice to see you are doing good | love the drawing very funni.

I will not be able to repli to any of your textts ̶s̶ for som time as i will go on a ship with the others to the trade islands

Not sure how long i wil be gone but i wil write you again as soon as i get back

Im not takin the book wit me as i don't want it getting destroied 

There wil be lots of water and the book is paper that dosnt mix well

Write you soon after i get bak from the boat

That should be a good enough explanation, I wasn't any good at writing though so i hoped it was at least understandable.

I set the book back on the desk and went to fetch a duffel bag so I could stuff my things into it.

Looking at the mostly empty shelves I debated if there was anything I wanted to take with me, but the only things in the shelves were just trinkets and the dirt filled cup Robin had forgotten one time.

The wood sorrels inside of it were growing like crazy though,  Maybe I should get an actual flower pot.

So only clothes and other necessities then.

Maybe I could put the tiny and currently empty wooden box on one of the shelves in the bag as well?

The box could be locked with a simple slide mechanism and had been in the shed before me, digging that out of the hay had been a surprise.

If I found a nice shell or something I could put it in there so it wouldn't break.

Also a box was generally practical so I stuffed it in the bag as well.

Looking at it I realized I was already done, that was fast.

Then again I really didn't have much to my name so that should have been obvious.

Dragging the bag to the door I set it right next to the exit, tomorrow I would just have to grab it from there then I could readily leave.

Sooo, what to do now?

I still had half the day left now but nothing to do.

And I was sure that Robin would take a lot longer to pack than I did,  so hanging out with him wasn't much of an option.

Out of boredom I decided to check the Logos book again.

Going back up to the loft I went to the desk and opened the book.

Surprisingly Fable had already answered, and I could see once again that he had prettier handwriting than I did, 

with basically no spelling mistakes either.

Man, I wished I could spell like that.

Whatever, Fables text read;

Hello Donovan, believe it or not I have seen worse handwriting, 

but I'm sure with some practice you will get better at it.

I am doing very well in fact, the forest is not as dangerous as I have been told, at least thus far.

Thank you for the compliment on my picture.

I wish you the best of luck on the trader islands, 

If you can, bring me a shell? 

Also not taking the book with you does make sense as I doubt it can be replaced.

Do not worry about me, I am a patient person so I promise I will not assume the worst should i not hear from you for one or two weeks now that you have notified me of this.

Tell me how it was as soon as you get back, the trader islands are a place i have not been to and i am curious as to what they are like.

I wish you calm waters and a peaceful journey.

Well, that was nice, at least I didn't have the worst handwriting in the world but I'd make sure to practice while on the boat.

And the forest not being as dangerous was a relief, maybe stuff had just been exaggerated for effect?

It was also nice that he understood my concern about taking the book on the boat and of course I'd bring him a shell! 

I'd have to make sure to get a really pretty one for him!

Maybe I should write back? Or was that weird?

I ended up writing back, even if badly readable for Fable, He responded very quickly.

Talking about nothing much, basically just telling stories to each other, and before I knew it it was dark outside.

Huh, having had the back and forth with Fable had taken more time than I thought.

I wrote a quick goodnight for him and he responded curtly by telling me he was going to set up camp now and wished me a goodnight as well as a safe journey.

I went back over to the bag I had packed and looked at the items one last time to make sure I didn't forget any of my sparse belongings needed for the trip.

It looked like I had everything though so I left the bag next to the door and went into the middle of the room.

I changed into my Ardua form to sleep like that after taking the sleeping aid Oakley gave me, luckily i had tossed the rest of it in my bag already. 

I doubted I could do that on the ship as there probably wouldn't be enough space so I decided to sleep like this for probably the last time this week.

Settling down I curled up like a cat, which I had actually learned from one, and yawned before using my arm as a pillow.

It wasn't that long after I fell asleep that someone knocked on the door.

I had one very good guess as to who it was.

“Its open, come in”

Just as predicted a familiar redhead appeared in the doorframe, clutching a bag to himself that looked messily packed together, no doubt his own stuff.

“I- uh, i'm kinda nervous to go on the boat, last time we went with the guard school and i fell overboard and got pinched by a crab, can i sleep here? I don't want to get nightmares about falling into the ocean”

He fell in and got pinched the last time he was on a boat? No wonder he was nervous.

“Come here, and leave your bag by the door next to mine, we can take them with us tomorrow”

He nodded and put his bag on the floor next to my own before coming over to me and climbing over my arm, settling in the groove of my elbow.

He always looked so small when he did that, especially as he sunk into the fluffy green fur there.

“Thank you, and sorry for bothering you, i'm just really nervous about going away on a boat”

He mumbled into the fur of my arm, burying his head in there.

“No problem, and you're not bothering me, i'm a tiny bit nervous myself actually, i've never been on a boat, but at least i can swim somewhat”

Swimming had been something I had to learn as people kept tossing me into rivers when I still lived on the streets. 

Drowning didn't sound good to me so I had to teach myself how to swim at least a little.

Yeah that wasn't something I was about to tell people though.

“You can swim? Are you good at that? Im kinda okay at it, at least when i don't have armor on”

I did doubt swimming with armor on would be an easy task anyway.

“That good, swimming is a useful skill i think, as for myself i know how NOT to drown so that has to be good enough”

He made a soft hum before burying deeper into the warm fur.

“That's nice, how long do you think we need to spend on the boat until we get to the islands?”

How long? Huh, i didn't know that but considering it had taken a week or so for the letter to arrive id say two to three days or so.

“Uhh, I dunno, two or three days? Maybe? I'm not an expert and there are many islands on the map as well*

“three or four days?  Well I guess that depends if we have good sailing weather?” “I hope we do, maybe we can take a little vacation there as well for a day and go on a beach to collect shells, i need a pretty one for Fable”

A day just to go to the beach sounded nice, sure Kamerasca did have its own beach but usually there were so many fishing boats or crabs that going into the water was a bad idea, and rivers weren't exactly all that clean sometimes.

Robin just mumbled something about sand and looking down I saw he had fallen asleep.

“Heh, goodnight then”

I lay my head down as well, basically hiding Robin from the world as my jaw covered his little form in the crook of my elbow as I fell asleep as well.

Tomorrow we'd get woken up by either Nea or Arthur, and for myself I hoped it was Arthur.

Sadly I was wrong, as the door slammed open with a bang and Nea barged in,  announcing loudly that we had to get our stuff and leave in an hour.

“YO!  Getup yer sleepyheads! Time ta brave tha Sea! Ye have an hour ta get yer stuff and go ta tha gate!”

Both me and Robin sprang up at her sudden and brash appearance.

Before we could retort anything she was gone again.

“I wish she wasn't so loud and sudden when she does this”

Robin could only nod to that as he climbed over my arm again and walked over to his bag, making sure the door didn't slam into it.

I stood up and shook myself like a wet dog before shifting back into a more human form.

An hour now huh? Plenty of time to walk to the gate, Luckily, I had already packed my stuff yesterday.

And Robin had packed them as well, judging by the lumpy duffel bag next to my small one.

Though knowing Robin it was probably chaos, I just hoped he hadn't forgotten anything.

Maybe asking to make sure of that would be a good idea.

“Robin? You got everything packed?”

He nodded for a second before he looked confused and opened the bag up to look inside.

Yep, as predicted, he had already forgotten what he put inside of it.

“We have an hour, how about I help you organize?”

He looked at me miserably.

“I don't know why my memory is so garbage, i can remember other things perfectly, like plant names but then i can't remember what i put in my bag the day before”

Yeah, that was kinda weird, but whatever.

“Happens I guess? Now come on put your stuff on the ground and i'll help you”

He nodded and then just sat on the ground before pouring the contents of the bag over the floor.

I could see some unfolded clothes and a pencil that had stained a shirt while it was in the bag, as well as some other things I was pretty sure weren't needed on a ship.

What a mess, and he forgot to pack pants in exchange for double the amount of shirts.

We spent the majority of the hour reorganizing his stuff and packing properly so he would have what he needed.

While I sent him to get some pants from his room I folded everything else and put the pencil stained shirt to the side.

When he came back I showed him how to most efficiently put everything in the bag.

“Thank you so much! I really don't know where my brain is sometimes!”

“Well i didn't see it in the bag so don't know where it is either”

He laughed at my very bad joke and tossed the pencil at me, I managed to catch it before it hit me though.

“What did you pack this one for anyway? Im sure you could just ask someone for a pencil"

He shrugged.

“Dunno anymore, I think I wanted to draw the fish I saw? But i'm not a good artist so i guess i can just leave it here”

I nodded and then looked outside again. 

I wasn't exactly sure what time it was but we probably should head to the gate before they sent someone to get us.

“I think we should head out now, you ready?”

I stood up and grabbed my own bag as Robin followed me with his own outside the shed.

Not too far from the door was sitting a familiar feline form.

Robin immediately went up to her.

“Gloxinia! Good kitty! 

Are you gonna keep an eye on the garden while we're all gone?”

The cat purred and brushed up against his legs as if telling him she would do just that.

Right, Oakley had mentioned that she had the potential to become a magical familiar, so her being smarter than the average cat wasn't a surprise.

I bent down as well to scritch her between the ears.

“If Nea starts to cause chaos and tries to murder some poor Guard try to distract her okay?”

“Mrrp!”

She bonked her head against my fingers and then slinked off in the direction of Oakley’s tower.

After that we headed to the gate as fast as we could, and as i thought half of the people were already there so we were just in time.

Looking around at the twenty something people I could see that Arthur and Amicia were here as well, probably to say goodbye or something.

Amicia was shaking Rikaads hand in what I assumed was thanks and Apologizing for the chaos her citizens made while Rowley was right behind her, half hiding from everyone else.

Should I talk to the smaller Ardua?

Probably not, I had headbutted him into a boulder on our first meeting and he made it clear he didn't want the shifter bracelet at all.

I'd respect that and leave him be.

The group split off and Amicia went to a fancy chariot a few paces away that i had failed to notice, Rowley in tow.

She looked back for a second and then ran up to Arthur to hug him.

Well hug was nicely put, from the face he made i was sure he just heard his spine crack.

While walking back to the chariot where Rowley was already inside she waved at us.

“Hey guys! Have a nice journey! Don't get sand in your teeth!”

What an odd thing to say, I just politely waved back as she clambered into the chariot and rode back to Maringand.

Looked like her stay with us was over and she was going back to rule her own Kingdom.

I really hoped that would go well.

I turned to Robin briefly.

“Hey I'm gonna go ask Arthur if he can get a lock installed on my door while we're on the boat, why don't you tell Rikaad we're here? Maybe we can go to the boat early?”

He nodded with a big smile and weaved past some Guards towards Rikaad, chanting the words ‘Boat trip, Boat trip’ over and over.

Looked like he already forgot to be nervous.

I then went up to Arthur who tried to get his back into its proper position again.

“And people wonder why i don't like women”

He muttered and then looked at me.

“Hey Arthur! How are you?

“Glad i don't have to go on that hellish vessel with you, but honestly staying behind isn't that much better when i have to work with Nea all the time, i swear she's gonna break my leg or something!”

Yeah that did sound like her.

“Well i'll make sure to not be surprised should you be in a cast when we come back”

He just rolled his eyes.

“Great, thanks, i'm just glad Norrin is also here, hes at least reasonable, whatever, i wish you guys good luck while on that thing from hell”

Yep, Arthur's motion sickness would get really bad on a boat no doubt, so it wasn't a wonder he called it a hellish thing.

“Thank you, can I ask for a favor while we're out at sea?”

“What kind favor?”

“Can you install a lock on my door? Nea already bent the hinges a little from waking me up, if you want to call banging the door open and throwing stuff at me while yelling that”

He nodded in sympathy.

“Of course, though i don't doubt she could kick a hole into the door instead, it's only wood after all, but i'll see to it don't worry”

Yeah kicking a hole into the door was something she WOULD do,  so maybe telling her there was a lock now was a good idea.

“Thank you! I'm really not keen on having her throw shoes at me again, i'm just lucky she didn't realize they were Robins and not mine”

I sighed at the memory, albeit not very fondly.

Arthur made a face that made it clear he had a good idea WHY Nea didn't notice the boots were Robins, and he was right.

“Well whatever, good luck with the paper stuff, take breaks when you need them though!”

He nodded.

“I will, don't worry, I don't know how Rikaad manages to spend hours in there, I barely do one! Anyway, if you can bring me a souvenir? I doubt i'll ever manage to go there myself”

“Of course, i'll bring a nice seashell or something else i find on the beach if you want”

“Sounds good, and make sure Robin does not fall in! While he can swim he might panic and forget!”

Oh, that wasn't something I had thought about, panicking while in water was a bad thing.

“I will keep an eye on him, I promise! I'll make sure personally that he doesn't fall in!”

Just then someone called for all of us to Leave towards the Harbor of Kamerasca, and to not forget our things.

“Oh, time to go then, stay out of trouble while we're not here, yeah?”

“I'll try, but idiots appear on every corner i'll tell you!”

“Yeah you saw me as one of them at first!”

“You still are!”

I moved to hug him to shut him up, which he did even if he didn't hug back, but that was because I trapped his arms to his sides.

“Erch alright, just make sure to not swim with sharks or whatever, now scram or they'll leave you on the dock!”

I let go of him, and after saying goodbye and that I would get him the biggest shell I could find sprinted after the others toward Rikaad and Robin.

I caught up pretty quickly to them and walked next to Robin who awkwardly held his bag.

Looking closer I realized one of the straps broke.

Of course, he had stuffed heavy things inside of it and not even tried to balance the weight equally.

I offered to trade carrying the bags so he had my way lighter one with the intact straps and I would take the heavier one with the broken strap.

He asked a good three times if I was sure and after assuring him of that we traded the bags.

Rikaad had in that time absconded to the front of the fifteen something people convoy and was leading us down the slope to the main city.

The city, oh dammit, it was the middle of the day! People would see me! And the Fae ban papers were still missing! What if someone decided to be petty today and attack me?

The sun was out so it would be perfectly easy to spot my way too pointy ears! What if people started throwing rocks at me? Again.

What if they formed an angry mob? And attacked all of us?

Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder and I flinched for a second before looking at who it was.

It was Oakley,  and at this point I wasn't even gonna ask how he was here.

“You good Donovan? Your face looks like someone put poison ivy in your shoes”

Again with the weird comparisons.

“I- no it's fine, it's just we're gonna go through the city and the papers for the Fae ban still haven't been found, what if someone flips out?”

“So what? You're only a few paces behind the king and a personal friend no less, everyone with a brain can see you're part of the group”

He was right, if someone did decide to attack they would be really stupid, still i moved to be more in the middle of the convoy while Robin chattered Rikaads ear off.

“What are you doing here anyway? I didn't see you at the gate?”

He just tilted his head in that weirdly birdlike manner.

“Well i just wanted to see what boat you went on, assuming it's the one you'll come back with i can see it from high above and swoop down to be the first to greet you when you come back!”

“You want to jumpscare someone don't you?”

“Yes”

He was a bit extra sometimes,  but it was nice he wanted to wish us a good journey.

He walked next to me on the way to the docks and asked me if the Logos book was all good and if I had already written to Fable as well as a lot of other meaningless stuff until we reached the dock.

I knew what he was doing, he was distracting me from paying attention to the city and its residents, which worked and I was thankful for it.

Thanks to this I was managing to avoid any major nervousness while walking through the streets.

We soon arrived at the harbor, where tons of big ships were anchored.

I did have to admire the handwork on them, building something so big that not only floated on water but also managed to transport goods and even people was something to be proud of in my opinion.

I wondered what the captain was like.

After arriving Oakley said he had to go back,  which he did after circling all of the boats like an overgrown seagull.

I quickly found my way to Rikaad and Robin,  who oversaw the last stuff for the journey being put on the Boat.

Lookin at it I saw that it was a tree mast giant sailboat with the name Victory Rose painted in stylized letters on the front.

“That's probably the biggest ship I've ever seen! 

Are we really gonna go on that?”

Rikaad nodded, pointing at a few crates that were being loaded onto it with the help of a crane.

“After they are done loading up we can go on as well, you can wander the Harbor a bit but please stay close, i don't want any of you to stay behind on accident”

We both nodded at him and Robin jumped down from the big barrel he sat on.

“Okay! I wanna see the outside of the ship! It's really pretty!”

I had to agree on that, the wood used was dark and dense with the red accents and the painted railings that resemble rose stalks.

“Yeah, really good CraftsmanSHIP on that”

It took a good second for them to get the, in my opinion, really bad, joke but when they did Robin laughed heartily and Rikaad had a rare smile on his face.

Really? 

The joke was bad but I wasn't complaining if it gave them a tiny bit of joy.

While Rikaad oversaw the crates and stuff with some experts, Robin and I walked the length of the ship to look at the thing we would spend at least a few days on.

I had to admit that it really was one of the biggest structures that wasn't a house or something that i had ever seen, heck i could probably fit on the deck in my Ardua form multiple times!

I wondered if the captain would mind that? Then again I was heavier as an Ardua, by a lot and I didn't wanna sink it.

It wasn't long after that when we were all called to come stand next to Rikaad so we could go on the Boat.

We rushed over to him and picked up our bags again, then we were ready to walk up the wooden plank that served as a bridge to the deck.

The thing looked stupidly steep though in my opinion so I held onto Robin who had a tendency to trip over his own feet while we walked onboard.

NEXT / PREVIOUS / OVERSIGHT

[pensat-i-fet]

A Manchester Affair (Rúben Dias): Chapter 14

Chapter 13

Chapter 15

Masterlist

Wattpad

The day after the match, Lucía was checking her emails when she realised she hadn't been on social media since leaving Old Trafford. She had tried to separate herself from all of it until it all blew up. 

Logging onto Instagram she wasn’t really surprised to see all the notifications she had waiting for her. A bit late to private the account, then.

She didn't bother reading the comments or seeing who was following her now. But she did want to delete the DMs so she could spot the ones she got for work more easily. The problem with that plan was that she could see the beginning of each message. And those weren't friendly words she saw.

Despite trying her hardest not to do it, she ended up opening some of the messages and reading what was written there. 

Ten minutes later, Lucía had learnt that she was potentially the worst person in the world. She was ugly, she was a whore and, of course, she only wanted Rúben for his money. No matter how unoriginal, it still hurt.

A knock on the door stopped her from reading more.

"Come in".

It was Erik who showed up. "Morning. Can we talk?"

"Sure", she said, still annoyed about the way he had treated Rúben.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. Please apologize to Rúben for me. I…I saw you hurting again and lost control".

"I get it. But you were really unfair to him".

"I know".

“Let’s hope your next meeting is a bit better”, she said, sighing.

"So", he started again. "Are you ok?"

"Peachy".

"You don't need to lie to me. I can tell you are not feeling ok".

Lucía didn't cry last night, not in front of Rúben. But now, it all came out.

"Hey hey hey", said Erik, walking to where she was sitting so she could hug her. He gave her some time to let her emotions out before he could try and console her with his words.

But out of the corner of his eye, he could see her computer screen.

"What is this?"

"Nothing", she said, trying to close the tab when she realized what he was talking about.

"Were you reading comments about you right now? Seriously? You are a lot smarter than that".

"Maybe I'm not".

"These people", he said, pointing to the computer. "They don't know you. Their opinions don't matter".

"I know. I won't let them affect me again. I just had a moment of weakness, I guess. It’s been too many things happening in too little time”.

“I understand. But it’s easy to let outside opinions hurt us and I don’t want that for you. You didn’t see me reading comments about me after Brentford, did you?”, he jokes, trying to make her laugh.

“I read them for you, coach. They even said you were losing because of how awful your suits are”, she laughed, joking back.

“Well, what do they know about style?”

Before leaving, he turned back to talk to Lucía again.

“We are all here for you. Don’t forget it, Lu”, he reassured her.

“I know”.

**

And they were there for her, but they also tiptoed around her the next couple of days. It was a funny feeling. On the one hand, she had the people who knew and loved her being afraid of doing or saying anything that could hurt her. And then on the other were the people who didn’t know her but had no problems telling her all the things they knew would hurt her. The only one who was in the middle was Rúben. Probably because he was the only one who could truly understand how she felt. His privacy had been invaded as much as hers had been. But he seemed to be taking it well. It wasn’t the first time something like this happened to him.

The press easily found out who Lucía was and all of a sudden her entire life was being printed on tabloids. How ridiculous. Even her friends were getting DMs from people asking them about her. 

And everyone had an opinion about everything, but it was her friendship with Pep a lot of people decided to focus on. So many theories about how that was linked with Lucía’s relationship with Rúben. Well, it wasn’t really that hard to get, was it?

It was exhausting to read so many ignorant comments.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she kept on looking at the comments made about her. It was like an addiction. You knew it was bad for you, but you couldn’t stop. The tabloids’ comments made the messages she got on Instagram seem PG. 

But the worst thing about this is that no one knew she was reading them. They could see her being affected but they just assumed it was because of the articles. They didn’t imagine she was doing this to herself. And a part of her wanted them to find out just so they could talk some sense into her and get her to stop.

The media team were trying to stop the publication of more articles, but they were doing so well that the tabloids didn’t care about what United or City had to say about it. They kept on printing stupid article after stupid article. 

Two weeks after the derby, Lucía was taking a shower after work when Rúben let himself inside her apartment. She knew he was coming and that he had a key, but she didn’t expect him there so early. If she had, she would have at least dried her face from all the crying she did in the shower. It was becoming a tradition for her to do that.

“What happened? Are you ok?”, he said, running to hold her.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m…”.

But she was not fine. And if there was someone that deserved to know, it was her boyfriend. He would understand.

“I can’t deal with this anymore”, she said, crying again and holding onto him.

“With what?”

“The articles, the comments, the messages, …it’s too much”, she finally admitted. And it felt good to get that out of her chest.

“Have you been reading them?”

“Yes, I can’t seem to stop”.

“You have to. This is so stupid. You’re hurting yourself on purpose”, he said, shocking Lucía with how harsh his words were.

She immediately separated from him.

“You think I’m having fun?”

“It’s as simple as stopping. I haven’t read anything so it’s not affecting me”.

“You have to be kidding me”, she half laughed. “Even if you did it wouldn’t affect you as much. All the insults are coming my way, Rúben”.

“Who cares about that?”

“I care!! I haven’t spent 10 years building this career to now be reduced to a gold-digging whore!”, she yelled, annoyed at his lack of understanding.

“But you aren’t any of those things”.

“It doesn’t make a difference”.

Lucía sat on her bed, tired of being tired. Sad and drained of energy.

“This is why I knew dating a footballer was a bad idea”, she said, not thinking about her words.

“Dating me is a bad idea? Well, thanks for letting me know. It feels great to hear”.

She could hear the anger in Rúben’s words.

“You know what I mean, Rúben. Dating you comes with a lot of good things. So many I can’t even count them, but it also includes things like this. These moments when I just don’t know how to cope with them. I didn’t choose to become a public person. I’m supposed to stay behind the scenes, not to be the one people talk about”.

He remained silent. And she somehow found the strength to say the words she didn’t want to say but felt she needed to say anyways. 

“Maybe we should take a break or something…”.

“No”.

“Excuse me?”, she said, looking at him. His face was as serious as she’d ever seen it.

“I said no. We’re not taking a break. We are not breaking up over this. Can’t you see that’s what these people want?”

Lucía just looked at him, trying to process his words.

“They want to break us. They want you to feel so bad that you do this. So bad that you stay away from me so they stop writing articles about you. But they won’t. They’ll write even more. And they want me to believe all those things they say about you but I don’t give a shit because I know the real you and they don’t”.

Even though Lucía tried to talk, only sobs came out of her mouth. It was then that Rúben sat down next to her and hugged her.

“If I need to be strong for the both of us for a little while, I will be. If I need to take your phone from you so you don’t read anything else, I will do it. But you’re not breaking up with me over this. Please, just let me help you”.

“I’m sorry”, she whispered.

“Don’t be. You’re being attacked left and right. It’s normal to feel this way. But you can’t just keep it to yourself. There are so many people in your life willing to help”.

“I know. And I’ll stop reading the articles and the comments. I swear”.

“Oh, I’ll make sure you do. And I’ll tell Diogo and Scott to make sure you don’t do it at work”.

“Scott? Are you texting daily now or something?”

“Yes, we are”.

That made Lucía move back to look at him. He was actually serious.

“What?”

“He’s worried about you and so am I. So we’ve been talking, trying to see how we could help you”.

“I like that you’re friends”, she said, smiling between the tears. “At least something good came out of this”.

“Other good things can come out of this. We can come out stronger. But you have to want it, and you have to work with me for it”.

And that’s exactly what they did. 

**

"What are you doing?", asked Scott when he saw her sitting down by herself in the canteen.

"Reading an article".

"What?", he said, taking her phone from her. Lucía only laughed at that. 

"About a new treatment for an ankle injury".

"Well, you can't blame me for caring", he said, giving her the phone back.

"I'll tell your bestie you're great at your job, don't worry".

"He's not my bestie", said Scott, rolling his eyes.

"You text him more than you text me these days. I'm a bit jealous", she teased him.

"Whatever".

"I'm joking, Scott. It means a lot to me that you two get on well. Much better than pushing each other on the pitch".

"Well, let me remind you it was your boyfriend who pushed me. I did nothing".

"It must have been a first", said Lucía, laughing at his friend's face.

“You ok, though?”, he asked.

“Yes, I’m ok”, she smiled.

[mimisempai]

Happy Fanfic Writers Appreciation Day!

Thank you @knuckleslovefor this original idea 💕 Thank you @insert-witty-user-name-here for tagging me !

~~~~~~~~~~

— How long have you been writing fanfiction?

A little more than 2 years

— Do you have a favorite word? (One that you love. Doesn’t necessarily have to be one you use all the time.)

Serendipity

— Share a favorite run-on sentence that you’ve written.

And so in the third question you see the extent of my ignorance in technical vaocabulary and writing knowledge. I have no idea what a run-on sentence is. 🥹

— Share a bit of a scene that you’ve written that still gives you FEELS.

"Loki! Wait!" Loki was standing in front of the portal through which the woman had just disappeared and deep down he knew he was going to have to follow her. Not because of all the bullshit he had spouted at her just before. Not because of his personal interests, well not only because of his personal interests. He was Loki after all. But because of the man who was running towards him shouting. Mobius. Because Mobius had seen in him more than a glorious purpose. Because even if it was for his personal interests, Mobius had needed him. Because Mobius had made him see that he could be a better version of himself. Because Loki was starting to believe it. So as he turned to Mobius who was running towards him he put everything he could into his eyes. Believe in me! Then, reluctantly, he turned away and went through the portal.

— What is your favorite kind of character interaction to write? — Do you have a hyper-specific genre? I think it's reciprocity, I like my characters to have this complementarity, that one character is the one the other can lean on, but not always the same. To sum up, caring for each other.

— Any personal or frequently used tags?

Fluff - Tooth rotting fluff - Caring - Emotional hurt/Comfort

— Share a joke or funny moment that you’ve written that still makes you laugh.

Casey chuckled lightly, "You and Loki are really the same."

Prez [President Loki] took offense, "Take back what you just said right now. I have nothing to do with that idiot."

— Best editing tip?

Refer to the answer to the question 3

— What drives you to write?

The cliché answer would be passion but the first one that comes to mind is making my/the characters happy.

— Share something about your writing that you have wished someone would ask you about. Or alternatively, something that you are just really proud of.

Hard to answer that one, maybe I get a little spark of pride when someone tells me they wouldn't have suspected English wasn't my natural language if I hadn't mentioned it.

— Where do you draw inspiration?

Everywhere, in my life, in my discussions with my friends of the various fandoms, in my emotions, my readings, my experiences… everything

— What is your immediate reaction when you receive a new comment on a fic?

Joy, always joy! and a little pang in my heart.

— What is your biggest challenge in writing?

Planning… I never plan anything in advance. I'm unable to plan, I usually know the beginning, the end and what's in between it's more often due to the characters than to myself.

— 1-2 sentence preview from your current WIP?? (Only if you are willing.)

He took another sip of tea and said a little lower, "When I think that I worked all those years for the people who took everything from me, that I helped them do the same to so many other people. How… how do I live with that?" It was Thor this time who put his large hand on Mobius' shoulder, "You realize you're a victim, right? Just as much as the others."

— What story or scene are you most proud of?

The two stories I am currently working on. The president and the clerk It's never too late to love

— Please link your profile so we can admire your works!

~~~~~~~~~~

[crystallizsch]

Hello! ♡

I hope you're doing well!

For the character ask game, I would love to know your thoughts on number 12 and number 25 with Jamil please!

Thank you! ♡

AAH hello again!! thank you so much for being the first ask, i hope you're doing well too!! 🥺💖

hndfsjkllkds and of course of course, these are good questions aaah

━━━━━━✦ 12. What's a headcanon you have for [Jamil]?

Sooo despite my apparent oc x canon stuff, my headcanon about Jamil is that relationships (partners specifically) will be the last thing on his mind. His focus will be on himself which, like, good for him! he deserves to finally do what he wants without restraint.

I remembered his wish from the wishing star event that he wanted to travel alone where nobody knew him and i was like yeah you go king, just relax by yourself. Relationships are overrated (jk jk).

In the story he's pretty good at acting and hiding his true emotions so i imagine when he does get feelings but refuses to act on it, no one would realize. Unless someone really knows how to read people (like Leona for example when he sussed out his intentions with Kalim in one of the vignettes).

━━━━━━✦ 25. What was your first impression of [Jamil]? How about now?

Okay so, the progression of what i thought about jamil is so funny to me. I'm never gonna be over it.

When i first played the game i DID NOT care about him whatsoever (mostly because i hadn't gone through book 4 yet). Nothing about him particularly stood out to me ;;; (The others have overshadowed him 😔)

I started playing twst when the EN server released (i was a leona simp🧍but i broke up with him and moved on to riddle). Honestly i only played because of the hype around the idea of disney characters being turned into anime boys, so i lost interest after a few weeks.

I only came back last year when a friend showed me that there's actually interesting story aspects in the game so i gave it a chance again. I barely even remember the game when i came back and for some reason i had Jamil's dorm SSR along with my main SSRs at the time (Riddle, Leona).

I was like "bruh who dis" and promptly ignored him. Even when i got to finishing book 4 i was like "alrighty that's another traumatized teenage boy down" and forgot about him again ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ (it also didn't help that i wasn't big of a fan of his overblot design)

This might have been the turning point but the scalding sands event was one of the first events that played when i came back to twst. Najma specifically had a HUGE impression on me because i thought "omg female sprite, Jamil's sister????" I was surprised the characters were like "they don't look alike" when they clearly do??? Anyways they are the siblings ever and i just fell in love with them.

After that I was still pretty neutral about jamil. During the event I was just casually pulling for cards without expecting anything (just the SRs). And guess who showed up. Jamil's event SSR.

it's so funny to me because i was still like "oh cool another SSR" AND THAT WAS IT. Literally only used the card because it was useful because i didn't have any good water-based cards (jamil my beloved im so sorry).

I know this is a bit anticlimactic but i'm not really sure the exact moment when jamil finally got the chokehold on me afterward🧍

So, to answer that question, my impression of him now is completely normal and unbiased (i am obsessed with him).

link back to ask game!

[bi-bard]

Pranks - Team Free Will Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Pranks

Pairing: Team Free Will X Platonic!Reader

Requested: by @shinestuart

Word Count: 593 words

Warning(s): none

Summary: A harmless prank leads to some very funny consequences.

Author's Note: This is incredibly short.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

Even through all of the trauma and terror that they saw every day, the Winchesters understood the idea of having fun and being happy.

Dean was just an 8-year-old boy trapped in a grown man's body.

I was walking from the kitchen to the library. My laptop was balancing on one arm. That's when I saw Dean standing next to Sam, who had fallen asleep at the table while doing some research.

Dean was placing sticky notes on his brother's back. Simple, stupid messages like "I'm stupid" and "Kick me".

I let out a scoff at the older brother. He looked over at me with furrowed eyebrows, smiling turning into a confused frown.

"What," he whispered.

"You're a child," I whispered back. "Leave your brother alone."

"Let me have a little fun," Dean put his hands on his hips.

I rolled my eyes and continued my path.

"I have a case," I shouted.

Sam jumped a little as I woke him up and Dean jumped away, trying to make it look like he hadn't been messing with this brother.

I shook my head and chuckled.

"Come look at this," I waved the two of them over.

Dean made it over first, reading through the article that I had found while Sam walked over slowly behind him.

I looked at the threshold between the library and the map room when I heard a flutter of wings.

"Hey Cas," I said, waving at the angel.

"Hello," he mimicked my wave.

He took a few steps over before stopping. His eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head at Sam's back. I realized what he was looking at but didn't have the time to stop him before he picked his foot up and kicked Sam's butt.

Sam jumped at the feeling and turned toward Cas, who had no idea what was wrong about what he did.

"Why'd you kick me," he asked.

"Your back said to," the angel shrugged his shoulders.

"What," Sam asked before frantically reaching for the back of his shirt.

"Sam, Sam, stop," I stopped him, stepping over and taking the notes off his back. "Dean did it while you were napping."

"Remind me to never ask you to help me get away with a crime," Dean said.

"I already did that one," I pointed out.

Dean just shrugged.

"Why did you put notes on my back," Sam looked at his brother.

"Because he's a child," I answered. "Now... does it look like a case?"

"It's gonna be a murder case in a second," Sam muttered.

"I've called dibs on killing Dean," I pointed at Sam. "Don't get in my way, Sasquatch."

The younger Winchester seemed slightly shocked at my threat.

"When," Dean asked.

"When you forgot me at that bar in Wisconsin."

Dean nodded, "Fair."

Sam walked over and started reading the article on the computer.

"I don't understand the notes," Cas finally spoke up.

"It's a joke," I explained. "People put notes on other people's backs without that person knowing. It's meant to just be something to chuckle at until the person realizes, and everyone can laugh about how long the notes were there before being discovered."

"So, I wasn't supposed to actually kick him?"

"No, Cas, you weren't meant to kick him."

"Oh."

I chuckled at the angel, "Do me a favor, Cas?"

He tilted his head again.

"Never change. Please."

He nodded.

He was one of the best things to happen to the three of us and I don't know what we'd do without him. Our very, very confused angel.

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

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

[soundsfaebutokay]

So I've recc'd this video before, but it deserves its own post because it's one of my favorite things on youtube. It's a Tedx Talk by comics writer, editor, and journalist Jay Edidin, and I really think that it will connect with a lot of people here.

If you live and breathe stories of all kinds, you might like this.

If you care about media representation, you might like this.

If you're neurodivergent, you might like this.

If you're interested in a gender transition story that veers from the norm, you might like this.

If you love the original Leverage and especially Parker, and understand how important it is that a character like her exists, you will definitely like this.

Transcript below the cut:

You Are Here: The Cartography of Stories

by Jay Edidin

I am autistic. And what this means in practice is that there are some things that are easier for me than they are for most people, and a great many things that are somewhat harder, and these affect my life in more or less overt ways. As it goes, I'm pretty lucky. I've been able to build a career around special interests and granular obsession. My main gig at the moment is explaining superhero comics continuity and publishing history for which work I am somehow paid in actual legal currency—which is both a triumph of the frivolous in an era of the frantically pragmatic, and a job that's really singularly suited to my strengths and also to my idiosyncrasies.

I like comics. I like stories in general, because they make sense to me in ways that the rest of the world and my own mind often don't. Self-knowledge is not an intuitive thing for me. What sense of self I have, I've built gradually and laboriously and mostly through long-term pattern recognition. For decades, I didn't even really have a self-image. If you'd asked me to draw myself, I would eventually have given you a pair of glasses and maybe a very messy scribble of hair, and that would've been about it. But what I do know—backwards, forwards, and in pretty much every way that matters—are stories. I know how they work. I understand their language, their complex inner clockwork, and I can use those things to extrapolate a sort of external compass that picks up where my internal one falls short. Stories—their forms, their structure, the sense of order inherent to them—give me the means to navigate what otherwise, at least for me, would be an impassable storm of unparsable data. Or stories are a periscope, angled to access the parts of myself I can't intuitively see. Or stories are a series of mirrors by which I can assemble a composite sketch of an identity I rarely recognize whole...which is how I worked out that I was transgender, in my early thirties, by way of a television show.

This is my story. And it's about narrative cartography, and representation, and why those things matter. It's about autism and it's about gender and it's about how they intersect. And it's about the kinds of people we know how to see, and the kinds of people we don't. It's not the kind of story that gets told a lot, you might hear a lot, because the narrative around gender transition and dysphoria in our culture is really, really prescriptive. It's basically the story of the kid who has known for their whole life that they're this and not that, and that story demands the kind of intuitive self-knowledge that I can't really do, and a kind of relationship to gender that I don't really have—which is part of why it took me so long to figure my own stuff out.

So, to what extent this story, my story has a beginning, it begins early in 2014 when I published an essay titled, "I See Your Value Now: Asperger's and the Art of Allegory." And it explored, among other things, the ways that I use narrative and narrative structures to navigate real life. And it got picked up in a number of fairly prominent places that got linked, and I casually followed the ensuing discussion. And I was surprised to discover that readers were fairly consistently assuming I was a man. Now, that in itself wasn't a new experience for me, even though at the time I was writing under a very unambiguously female byline. It had happened in the letter columns of comics I'd edited. It had happened when a parody Twitter account I'd created went viral. When I was on staff at Wired, I budgeted for fancy scotch by putting a dollar in a box every time a reader responded in a way that made it clear they were assuming I was a man in response to an article where my name was clearly visible, and then I had to stop doing that because it happened so often I couldn't afford to keep it up. But in all of those cases, the context, you know, the reasons were pretty obvious. The fields I'd worked in, the beats I covered, they were places where women had had to fight disproportionally hard for visibility and recognition. We live in a culture that assumes a male default, so given a neutral voice and a character limit, most readers will assume a male author.

But this was different, because this wasn't just a book I'd edited, it wasn't a story I'd reported—it was me, it was my story. And it made me uncomfortable, got under my skin in ways that the other stuff really hadn't. And so I did what I do when that happens, and I tried to sort of reverse-engineer it to look at the conclusions and peel them back to see the narratives behind them and the stories that made them tick. And I started this, I started this by going back to the text of the essay, and you know, examining it every way I could think of: looking at craft, looking at content. And in doing so, I was surprised to realize that while I had written about a number of characters with whom I identified closely, that every single one of those characters I'd written about was male. And that surprised me even more than the responses to the essay had, because I've spent my career writing and talking and thinking about gender and representation in popular media. In 2014, I'd been the feminist gadfly of an editorial department and multiple mastheads. I'd been a founding board member of an organization that existed to advocate for more and better representation of women and girls in comics characters and creators. And most of my favorite characters, the ones I'd actively seek out and follow, were women. Just not, apparently, the characters I saw myself in.

Now I still didn't realize it was me at this point. Remember: self-knowledge, not very intuitive for me. And while I had spent a lot of time thinking about gender, I'd never really bothered to think much about my own. I knew academically that the way other people read and interpreted my gender affected and had influenced a lifetime of social and professional interactions, and that those in turn had informed the person I'd grown up into during that time. But I really believed, like I just sort of had in the back of my head, that if you peeled away all of that social conditioning, you'd basically end up with what I got when I tried to draw a self-portrait. So: a pair of glasses, messy scribble of hair, and in this case, maybe also some very strong opinions about the X-Men. I mean, I knew something was off. I'd always known something was off, that my relationship to gender was messy and uncomfortable, but gender itself struck me as messy and uncomfortable, and it had never been a large enough part of how I defined myself to really feel like something that merited further study, and I had deadlines, and...so it was always on the back burner. So, I looked, I looked at what I had, at this improbable group of exclusively male characters. And I looked and I figured that if this wasn't me, then it had to be a result of the stories I had access to, to choose from, and the entertainment landscape I was looking at. And the funny thing is, I wasn't wrong, exactly. I just wasn't right either.

See, the characters I'd written about had one other significant trait in common aside from their gender, which is that they were all more or less explicitly, more or less heavily coded as autistic. And I thought, "Ah, yes. This explains it. This is under representation in fiction echoing under representation in life and vice versa." Because the characteristics that I'd honed in on, that I particularly identified with in these guys, were things like emotional unavailability and social awkwardness and granular obsession, and all of those are characteristics that are seen as unsympathetic and therefore unmarketable in female characters. Which is also why readers were assuming that I was a man.

Because, you see, here's the thing. I'm not the only one who uses stories to navigate the world. I'm just a little more deliberate about it. For humans, stories formed the bridge between data and understanding. They're where we look when we need to contextualize something new, or to recognize something we're pretty sure we've seen before. They're how we identify ourselves; they're how we locate ourselves and each other in the larger world. There were no fictional women like me; there weren't representations of women like me in media, and so readers were primed not to recognize women like me in real life either.

Now by this point, I had started writing a follow-up essay, and this one was also about autism and narratives, but specifically focused on how they intersected with gender and representation in media. And in context of this essay, I went about looking to see if I could find even one female character who had that cluster of traits I'd been looking for, and I was asking around in autistic communities. And I got a few more or less useful one-off suggestions, and some really, really splendid arguments about semantics and standards, and um...then I got one answer over and over and over in community after community after community. "Leverage," people told me. "You have to watch Leverage."

So I watched Leverage. Leverage is five seasons of ensemble heist drama. It's about a team of very skilled con artists who take down corrupt and powerful plutocrats and the like, and it's a lot of fun, and it's very clever, and it's clever enough that it doesn't really matter that it's pretty formulaic, and I enjoyed it a lot. But what's most important, what Leverage has is Parker.

Parker is a master thief, and she is the best of the best of the best in ways that all of Leverage's characters are the best of the best. And superficially, she looks like the kind of woman you see on TV. So she's young, and she's slender, and she's blonde, and she's attractive but in a sort of approachable way. And all of that familiarity is brilliant misdirection, because the thing is, there are no other women like Parker on TV. Because Parker—even if it's never explicitly stated in the show—Parker is coded incredibly clearly as autistic. Parker is socially awkward. Her speech tends to have limited inflection; what inflection it does have is repetitive and sounds rehearsed a lot of the time. She's not emotionally literate; she struggles with it, and the social skills she develops over the series, she learns by rote, like they're just another grift. When she's not scaling skyscrapers or cartwheeling through laser grids, she wears her body like an ill-fitting suit. Parker moves like me. And Parker, Parker was a revelation—she was a revolution unto herself. In a media landscape where unempathetic women usually exist to either be punished or "loved whole," Parker got to play the crabby savant. And she wasn't emotionally intuitive but it was never ever played as the product of abuse or trauma even though she had survived both of those—it was just part of her, as much as were her hands or her eyes. And she had a genuine character arc. My god, she had a genuine romantic arc, even. And none of that required her to turn into anything other than what she was. And in Parker I recognized a thousand tics and details of my life and my personality...but. I didn't recognize myself.

Why? What difference was there in Parker, you know, between Parker and the other characters I'd written about? Those characters, they'd spanned ethnicities and backgrounds and different media and appearances and the only other characteristic they all had in common was their gender. So that was where I started to look next, and I thought, "Well, okay, maybe, maybe it's masculinity. Maybe if Parker were less feminine, she'd click with me the way those other characters had." So then I tried to imagine a Parker with short hair, who's explicitly butch, and...nothing. So okay, I extended it in what seems like the only logical direction to extend it. I said, "Well, if it's not masculinity, what if it's actual maleness? What if Parker were a man?" Ah. Yeah.

In the end, everything changed, and nothing changed, which is often the way that it goes for me. Add a landmark, no matter how slight, and the map is irrevocably altered. Add a landmark, and paths that were invisible before open wide. Add a landmark, and you may not have moved, but suddenly you know where you are and where you can go.

I wasn't going to tell this story when I started planning this talk. I was gonna tell a similar story, it was about stories, like this is, about narratives and the ways that they influence our culture and vice versa. And it centered around a group of women at NASA who had basically rewritten the narrative around space exploration, and it was a lot more fun, and I still think it was more interesting. But it's also a story you can probably work out for yourselves. In fact it's a story some of you probably have, if you follow that kind of thing, which you probably do given that you're here. And this is a story, my story is not a story that I like to tell. It's not a fun story to talk about because it's very personal and I am a very private person. And it's not universal. And it's not always relatable, and it's definitely not aspirational. And it's not the kind of story that you tend to encounter unless you're already part of it...which is why I'm telling it now. Because the thing is, I'm not the only person who uses stories to parse the world and navigate it. I'm just a little more deliberate. Because I'm tired of having to rely on composite sketches.

Open your maps. Add a landmark. Reroute accordingly.

[caffeineforbucky]

As Time Goes By...(Chapter three)

A/N: This one took a while to write. I've just been so busy doing absolutely nothing all while procrastinating, so special thanks to that. No, but I really hope you like this, fellow reader. If you like the series, let me know if you want to be tagged!

(Side note: I've been playing RE8, thirsting over lady D, and dying over and over...it's going great! It's part of the procrastination...)

Also, has anyone seen the Bridgerton musical tiktoks? I swear I've had the 'burn for you' song in my head all last month and if you've been living under a rock...here's the link:

https://youtu.be/EwY9_m5qeow

Word Count: 2,299

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I don't know....angst? As always, John Walker!?! AKA; Fake Cap. Umm...If I missed any let me know.

(A little PSA: I don't hate John Walker: or the actor. John is a well-written character. This is just strictly for the purpose of where my story is going. I'm more reiterating how Bucky treats him in the show. Thank you!!)

You groan, rolling from your left side to lay flatly on your back, arms spread out beside you. You inhale deeply, becoming aware of the moistened dirt and crushed wildflowers beneath you as they release their aromatics. Birds chirped around you, the busy sounds of traffic fading away while you lie still in the field, oxygen feeling heavy in your lungs.

"Y/N?!"

You barely heard the worrisome calls of Sam over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You lift your head, the view of icy mountains in the distance, blurry figures making their way towards you while you somehow managed to sit up. Your head was spinning, a sharp ache on the side of your thigh.

Your eyes flickered down, taking note of the small paring knife lodged in your thigh. You exhaled softly, nodding your head at the sight of it. "Okay," You grumble in agreement. With shaking hands, you wrap your fingers around the handle, bracing yourself by taking intervolved breaths before carefully pulling it from your thigh.

You worked fast, ignoring the crunch of rocks and dirt under the acknowledgeable footsteps of Sam and Bucky. Taking babochka, you cut off the end of your pant leg, wrapping the spandex around your wounded thigh before securing it with one of the holsters, tying the ends into a knot. You remain quiet, carefully pushing yourself up to your feet, transferring all of the weight to the opposite leg, eyes drifting up to meet the guys. "Are you guys okay?" You murmur, dusting off the clumps of dirt and dead leaves from your jacket.

"Are you?!" Sam exclaimed incredulously. "You're bleeding!" He points out, gesturing to the bright red staining the skin of your calf as it dripped down to your boot. The wrap might've held the wound shut, but that didn't mean blood wouldn't have soaked through.

"Oh, this?" You ask, glancing down at your leg, the wound throbbing in agony, but you did your best to avoid it. "I've had worse." That was true, from all those years fighting as an avenger. Getting shot, kicked, stabbed, beaten until you were purple, and undergoing mind control. This tiny stab was the least of your worries. It still hurt like hell, and you couldn't hide the discomfort in your features.

"Do you want a piggyback?" Bucky asks suddenly, slightly annoyed at your nonchalance and still concerned nonetheless. You weren't expecting it, the odd but kind offer, especially from the menace himself. Though you weren't one to pass up being carried. With a hesitant nod, you agree, watching Bucky crouch just a bit, allowing you to climb on his back.

The position was awkward for both of you. With his hands tightening on the back of your knees and your arms wrapped around his neck, neither of you could think straight. Yet, you were still thankful. The road to the airport was a long one, and you weren't sure if you could make it in your state. Bucky held you as if you weighed nothing, his super-soldier strength showing off while he carried you on his back, footsteps matching up with Sam. He didn't mind doing it, especially since he was the one who offered, and the proximity was just a bonus.

"Sorry about Redwing," Bucky muses, breaking the silence while the three of you sauntered down the empty road. There was nothing for miles, only empty plains of grass and dirt. Young trees scattered, lacking the greenery around them, evident of the cold weather in Munich.

"No, you're not," Sam remarks, narrowing his eyes to a pinprick at the winter soldier. "You've always hated Redwing."

"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry about it," Bucky grumbles, tightening his hold on you as he felt you slipping. You gasp at the sudden strength, clinging better to his shoulders as well. "How're you doin' up there?" He asks, jaw clenching from your touch.

"All things considering," You sigh, pushing aside the butterflies in your tummy at how close you were to Bucky. "I've been better. We've gotta find out where that super serum is coming from."

"Yeah," Sam chimed in, glancing at you. "-And how the hell after 80 years are there eight super-soldiers runnin' loose?"

Loud honks of a horn ring in your ears, tires treading on the gravel as an army jeep slows down beside the three of you. "So, that didn't go as planned, huh?" John chuckles, pushing the door open only for you to keep walking, paying no mind to the man in stars and stripes.

"Okay, keep going," John utters, signaling the driver to keep up as he pulls the door shut. "Look, at least we know what we're up against, huh? And I'm pretty sure it's one of the big three...so,"

"Aliens, androids, or wizards," Lemar comments as John nods his head in agreement.

"There's no such thing as wizards!" Bucky grunts, keeping his eyes forward, hands on the back of your knees.

"Fine, aliens or androids," John settles, sharing a look with his best friend beside him. "Look, it's 20 miles to the airport, and you guys need a ride. Gary, stop," He instructs, the wheels slowing down. John opens the door once again. "Get in," He sighs, motioning all of you inside the jeep as Bucky and Sam's footsteps came to a halt.

Bucky gently sets you down, taking note of the small whimpers falling from your lips. No matter how tough you appeared to be, you still carried so much vulnerability. "You okay?" He asks, eyes filled with so much concern it almost scared you. He hadn't looked at you like that in a while. "Do you want any help?"

With a soft nod, you oblige to Bucky's ask, needing more help than you anticipated. You didn't want to add any strain or force to your injury. You didn't even realize it happened, and that part of it was Sam's fault for swooping to grab you while you had a knife in hand, but you weren't going to start pointing fingers. You wrap your arm around Bucky's shoulder, using him as support while he boosts you up on the jeep after Sam climbs up first, helping you settle beside him.

"Woah!" John exclaims, almost rising to his feet at the sight of your thigh, your hands stained with blood. "Are you okay?"

With a curt nod, you adjust yourself to relieve some of the pressure while Bucky takes a seat on your left, leaving you to be right smack dab in the middle as he pulls the door shut. You blow out a breath, knowing damn well if it hadn't been for the mishap, you would've walked the damn 20 miles.

"Lemar, hand me the first aid kit," John instructs, pointing to the steel case beside his friend. You wanted to protest, but even you knew that the strap wasn't going to work. Mouthing a thank you, you take the case from Lemar's hand and clip it open.

"Okay, so we got eight super-soldiers on a bulk supply run," John continues, the jeep beginning to roll down the road. You hand the case to Sam, asking him to hold it while you searched for gauze, medical tape, and butterfly bandages, you were probably going to need stitches, but you'd worry about that later. "Why?" John asks, watching closely as you patched up your wound.

"They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the blip," Sam answers, handing you another strip of tape. "Maybe they're just tryna help."

"They had a funny way of showing it," Bucky adds, his eyes trained on you, a hiss slipping through your lips as you roll down the remaining spandex. You sigh in relief, the ache becoming dull as you shut the case, giving it back to Lemar.

"Better?" John asks, earning a single nod as a response. "I don't think we've properly met. John Walker," he smiles, offering a shake of his hand, but you didn't move, only staring at the outstretched palm in front of you. "Does she talk?" John mumbles suddenly, looking to Sam or Bucky for a reply.

Your eyes cast down, gaze hardening at the sight of the shield in his grasp. Flashes of Steve running through your mind, the many times he'd catch you trying to throw it like he would. Steve Rogers meant a lot to you, having joined him in not signing the Sokovian accords, being an outlaw, and helping to clear Bucky's name with Sam. So, seeing a man who wasn't Steve hold the shield awoke something in you. Something unkind and hateful.

"When she wants to," You claim, John squirms in his seat, sensing the tension as your eyes flicker to his. "And frankly has no desire to speak to you."

"You don't even know me," John defends, glancing at Bucky, a sly smirk on his lips, and Sam, who rendered quiet, his eyes looking elsewhere. John sets his attention back on you, lips razor thin.

You scoff, shaking your head softly as you fold your arms over your chest. "Jonathon F. Walker," You begin, leaning back in your seat, your eyes never leaving his. "Former Captain of the U.S Army's 75th Rangers Regiment. Graduated at the top of your class from the United States Military and the first person in American history to receive three medals of honor, ran RS-one missions in counterterrorism and hostage rescue."

John's tongue darts between his lips, a frown spreading throughout his forehead at the information you were giving him. Either you did research on him or, you just read his file, which you had done both. You were not one to go into a mission without potentially knowing who you were up against. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"So you saw the news?" John chuckles, the frown falling from his features while he shrugs. "Big deal, so did the entire world."

"Custer's Grove High school alumni."

John's smile falters.

"There you met, Lemar Hoskins and your current wife," You tilt your head in curiosity. "Olivia, right? Or am I getting it wrong?"

Clearing his throat softly, John broke eye contact with you. So you did know him, and you probably knew more than you led on. "Do they always just stare like that?" He gestures between you and Bucky, who had displayed the same distaste for him.

Sam glances beside him, observing the matched body language you shared with Bucky, its no wonder Bucky had taken a liking to you, even if he'd never admit it. "You get used to it," Sam smirks, turning his head back to Walker.

"Okay..." John drags, eyes flickering to the more sensible one of the trio, and that was Sam. "Look, that serum doesn't have the greatest track record, no offense," He waves his hand, dismissing the insult directed towards the only super-soldier in the car.

"We need to figure out where they're going. How'd you track 'em here?" Sam asks, "The flag smashers."

"Uh," Lemar murmurs, scratching the back of his head. "We didn't track them. We tracked you through Redwing."

"You hacked my tech!?" Sam gripes, straightening out his back as he sat up.

"Sorry," John laughs, "It's not exactly hacking. It's government property...kind of the government. Alright, you know things have gotten kind of..."

"Chaotic," Lemar adds.

"Yeah," John nods in agreement. "The GRC, they're doing their best to get things up and running smoothly post blip. If you guys teamed up with us-"

"No." Bucky interrupts. He couldn't let Walker finish that sentence.

"I've got mad respect for all of you," Lemar praises, looking between the trio before him. "But you were getting your asses kicked 'til we showed up."

"And who are you?" Bucky bemuses, cocking a brow at the man next to John.

"Lemar Hoskins," You mention, "I could've sworn we've been through this." You shake your head at the old man, for being 106, he couldn't hear a thing.

"I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear," Sam shrugs, "I'm gonna need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins."

"I'm Battlestar, John's partner."

"Battlestar?" Bucky repeats, narrowing his eyes at Lemar as he nods, confirming his alias. "Stop the car!" Bucky shouts suddenly, brakes screeching as the wheels come to a stop in the middle of the road. Bucky pulls open the handle, ducking, as to not rail his head on the bar-frame above him before hopping off the jeep.

"Look, I get it, okay?" John sighs, calling after Bucky. "I get the attitude, I do. You didn't think the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I'm not trying to be Steve!"

"Good," You interject, rendering John to settle his eyes on you. "Because you will never be. And just because you're the one wielding it..." You grab the bar above your head, using it to pull yourself up. "It doesn't make you Captain America." And with that, you carefully jump off the jeep, following after the heated super-soldier.

Sighing in frustration, he rips his eyes away from your retreating figures. "I'm not trying to replace him either. I'm just trying to be the best Captain America I can be." He explains to Sam, hoping the falcon would cut him some slack. "-And it'd be a whole lot easier if I had Cap's wingman on my side."

Sam's eyes widen in surprise, his tongue darting between his lips. "It's always that last line," He scoffs, shaking his head as he jumped off the car, following you and Bucky.

John's lips thin out, face scrunching in a scowl. "Let's go," He instructs. The sound of the jeep leaving making its way to your ears.

[lady-merian]

Wheee! Chapter Four ended up being pretty easy to edit!

link to the Prologue is here if you need it, and Chapter Three is here if anyone wants just a quick refresher

-Chapter Four-

Erandir cradled the steaming mug of tea Wynn had brought him. He hadn't even realized he was cold until he picked it up, but now he savored the warmth even as he waited for it to cool enough to drink.

So very like Wynn to see to his guests' comfort before satisfying his curiosity, which must be at least equal to his own.

He had expected Wynn to guess there was something unusual about Merian. Even her borrowed clothes wouldn't've hidden her noble birth from him for long. What he hadn't expected was that he would be the one waiting for an explanation.

Merian took a cautious sip just as Wynn settled in with his own.

"How is it, your highness?" He asked.

She looked up from her cup. "Oh, please, do call me Lass like you used to."

Wynn smiled. "Ye've grown. I wasnae sure if ye'd still like it."

"I have missed it," she said. "Certain people," she added with a sideways glance at Erandir, "keep insisting on calling me 'Princess,' or 'Highness,' no matter what I tell them."

Wynn shook his head with mock severity. "For shame, Lad. Ye ought to respect a lady's wishes."

"I take it you didn't like Meri," Erandir said. "Can I call you 'Lass,' then?"

"Not if you use that mocking tone."

"Meri lass," Wynn said with a half smile. "It suits you."

Wynn must know a different Merian than he did.

Merian took another sip. "This is perfect," she told him. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Lass," he said. "It's been a long while since I entertained a lady. The sort of company I usually get doesna have the same appreciation for it."

He briefly glanced at Erandir with just a hint of a smile to show he was teasing. "My students, y'see."

"Funny," Erandir said. "Are you through?"

"I do see," she said, ignoring him. " I remember the trouble you had with my brothers, and I can only imagine what you must have to put up with here."

Wynn slowly nodded.

"Traitor," Erandir muttered. "How is it that you two know each other?"

"He gave instruction to my brothers and me for a time."

"I went for a book, and ended up with an offer I couldna resist: full access to the royal library in exchange for giving lessons to king Alaric's children. This was before the war, of course. Nigh on eleven years ago."

Erandir laughed. "He knew you well, I see. But surely he offered you more than that."

Wynn's smile faltered. "He did," he said after a moment's hesitation, "but I couldna accept."

"Father offered him a permanent position," Merian told him.

Erandir let out a low whistle, wondering if Merian had any idea what that must've meant to him. "You turned that down?"

"Here is where I belong."

He wanted to disagree. Captain Wynn Mac Aodha belonged in command of the Kingsguard, as he had been thirty years before. Erandir had heard the stories from his father.

But if Wynn was meant to be in command, then Dorenan was meant to have a king; if Dorenan had a true king, she would not be at war with Arenath. It was that simple. And it was that complicated. So he could not argue, because until lord Aremor was dealt with, Wynn no more belonged in command than he did.

He was only half listening as Merian gave a brief account of her misadventures to Wynn.

"Dorenan must be smaller than I thought," Merian said, after she finished. "When Erran told me—"

"He knows my right name," Erandir interrupted.

Merian frowned, and Wynn positively smirked.

Erandir shrugged and took a drink. "Just thought you should know."

"As I was saying," she glared in Erandir's direction before turning back to Wynn. "He called you Wynn, which was not at all helpful. I knew you as 'Master Fullrede.'"

"Most of my younger students call me that at first, but ye can call me Wynn if ye please."

He turned to Erandir. "What d'ye make of it, Lad? If they're that desperate, why bring her all the way back here rather than to a secured place close by? It'd save them time."

"It does seem odd," he said. He saw Merian fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, but she said nothing.

Wynn shrugged. "I may be reading into it too much. It could be nothing after all."

"You don't sound convinced. What do you think it is?"

But Wynn only smiled and changed the subject. "Ye haven’t eaten yet, have ye?"

The way he seemed to effortlessly read his mind was still startling, even after all this time. "How do you do that?"

"Only guessing this time. Hungry?"

"I'd planned on going to the Golden for supper."

"Ye still could, but I dinna think it wise for Merian to go."

Wynn held his gaze a bit longer, apparently trying to tell him something else without using words.

It seemed important to him that she not go there, but if it was only that she looked too much like a highborn lady he would have said so.

He'd have to ask him about it later.

"You're probably right," he said, letting him know that he'd gotten at least part of the message.

Wynn turned to Merian. "Would ye do me the honor of joining me for supper, Meri lass?"

"The honor would be mine," she said in an almost formal tone, but her eyes sparkled.

Funny. If he had told Merian that she shouldn't come with him, he was sure she'd have bristled as though he'd insulted her. When Wynn said the same thing, it came out as a compliment and an invitation.

He made a mental note to get Wynn to tell him his secrets. His particular form of diplomacy would come in handy.

It was tempting to stay and listen to their conversation, but if there was one thing he wanted more than information it was the Golden Oak's famous cooking.

Nothing against Wynn's, but it was a good thing Merian didn't know what she was missing.

>>———>

After a hot meal, far better than the camp fare Merian had become accustomed to, Wynn brought her in to the library to show her his prized collection.

"I knew you loved books," she said, "but I did not know you had so many!

Where ever did you come by them all?"

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

"Here and there," he said. "Few value them like we do. I rescue them from dusty shelves whenever I can. Th' cost is a small one, for what I gain by it."

She smiled and picked a familiar book off the shelves to thumb through.

"How are ye doing, really?"

She looked up to see his warm brown eyes filled with compassion. It was no surprise that he had seen through all her attempts to behave as though everything was normal, but with that look she nearly came undone.

"I am much better than I was earlier," she managed to say with hardly a tremor in her voice.

"That doesna help much," he said. "How were ye earlier?"

"A mess." She let out a long breath. "Now I mostly worry about the way things are at home." Tears welled in her eyes, but she fought them and tried to go on. "I miss them all—" she could not finish the sentence, as a sob broke loose from somewhere deep inside her. Wynn wrapped his arms around her and held her as she cried. Something she would not allow just anyone to do, but he was more than her favorite teacher. More than a close family friend. He almost was family. Like the grandfather she had never known.

"It'll be all right, Lass" he whispered. "Deep breaths, now. That's it."

When her shaking subsided, he released her and tenderly brushed the tears from her face.

"I am sorry," she sniffed.

"Sshh now. Dinna be sorry."

"I do not know what is the matter with me. I did not cry this much when I was bound and helpless."

"It's the release of tension," he said. "I expected something like it. It's only setting in now that you're really safe."

That was likely true; until now, she had not completely relaxed her guard.

"If that is the case, I hate to think what a wreck I will be once I am home," she said.

Wynn smiled. "Ye'll be all right."

She tried to smile in return, but could not keep it for long. Too much depended on someone she barely knew. But Wynn obviously trusted him, and that had to count for something.

"How long have you known Erandir?" she asked.

"A little over eight years now, if my memory serves me. He showed up on my doorstep lookin' for all the world like a lost pup left out in the cold." He chuckled at the memory. "I recognized him immediately, him looking so like his father."

She blinked in surprise. "You knew his father?" she asked.

Wynn stilled. "Quite well," he said after a pause. "We fought side by side during the Garrian wars."

When most people spoke of the Garrian wars, it was often with some measure of bitterness, or even shame. The last one had ended over thirty years ago when Garria had fallen to Khedar.

Hence the bitterness.

Wynn's voice held none of that, though. Only sorrow. He straightened, as though shrugging off memories like an unwanted cloak, and beckoned her into the kitchen where he put the kettle on for more tea. They both seemed to need it.

When that was done, they moved back to the library and he turned to her with a half smile.

"What do ye think of Erandir, Lass?"

The question caught her off guard. She was the one who wanted to know more.

"I hardly know what to think," she said. "One moment he acts like a perfect gentleman, and the next he is an awful tease. I prayed every day for a rescue, but sometimes I wonder what sort of guardian Elyon sent me."

He shook his head, grinning broadly. "Aye, sounds like him. It means he's comfortable with ye."

She blew on her tea to cool it. "I would not have guessed that," she said. "I think he is hiding something from me. Something important."

Wynn nearly choked on his tea.

"What makes ye think so?"

"For one thing, he is continually deflecting my questions. He thinks I have not noticed, but even if he answers, he always changes the subject. Does he think I should trust him blindly?"

"I dinna ken." His brows furrowed. "Ye said for one; is there more?"

"Yes. Why is Faldur hunting him?"

He stared into his mug. "I couldna say."

Did that mean he did not know? Or was he protecting him somehow? A knot formed in her stomach at the thought.

"But ye can trust him." A spark of pride lit his eyes. "If he's sworn to get ye home he'll do it, at whatever cost to himself."

Gone was his uncertainty, leaving complete confidence in its place.

How she wished she could share it.

>>———>

"And I say he's not fit to rule the king's kennels, let alone his kingdom!" A fist pounded the solid oak table, not far from where Erandir was sitting. It took every bit of his self control to pretend he had no interest in what they were saying. The fact that he wholeheartedly agreed with the man didn't help matters.

"Shhh!" Another man spoke up, glancing furtively in his direction. "Anyone might be listening. D'ye fancy a visit to the royal dungeons?"

"I don't care who hears me!"

"You're not thinkin' straight then," the other man hissed. "There's nothing we can do about it now. Your son is gone, and this kind of talk won't help get him back."

The look of grief that crossed the first man's face sent a pang through Erandir's own heart. He didn't want to hear any more, but he could hardly help it unless he moved, and there weren't many other places to sit. The Golden Oak was well-nigh full.

"At least he'll be sent off eastward, instead of where the fighting is," the second man continued in a more subdued tone. "Dec never got that much."

"No he won't," the first man groaned. "The soldiers said west; it’s the Camden hills for him, not Altair pass."

Erandir fought to keep silent. Grief of this sort was only too common, but something was bothering him about the man's words. What was it? His mind teased him with an answer that stayed just out of reach, like an itch he couldn't scratch. He knew it'd been a mistake to listen any more.

When he saw Caliam approaching, he welcomed the distraction. It looked like he could use one too. He ran a hand through his sandy hair making it look even messier than usual. Tired-looking green eyes scanned the faces of everyone nearby before he finally plopped down beside Erandir.

"Heard you were in town," Caliam said.

Just great. He tried not to scowl. How many people were discussing his arrival?

"So who's the girl?" Caliam asked.

Even better. This time he didn't bother to hide his frown. "Who said anything about a girl?"

"So it is true." He grinned. “Are congratulations in order?"

Of all the plagues…His face heated, and it had nothing to do with the warmth of the room. He should've expected something like this. "No."

"I hear she's a pretty one."

"Don’t even think about it. She's spoken for."

As he said it, he wondered if it was true. Probably was. Close enough. He shook those thoughts away. "Anyway, she's my cousin. I'm just helping her out for a while."

Caliam elbowed him. "Relax, I was only curious."

He needed a change of subject before Caliam got curious about anything else. The only thing that came to mind was the question that'd been troubling him a moment ago.

"Is your father still stationed near Altair pass?"

He nodded once. "Are you going to finish that?" he asked, pointing to Erandir’s half finished food.

"Yes." He placed his arm between his bowl and Caliam to prove it. "What's the latest news from there?"

Caliam shrugged. "Nothing much to tell. The border's gotten so quiet that nearly half the guardsmen have been moved west."

It wasn't the answer he'd hoped for, but it was exactly what he'd been afraid of.

No one else seemed worried. Khedar appeared mostly content with conquering Garria, and there hadn't been so much as a skirmish in years.

He only hoped it wasn't the calm before the storm.

"You don't look so good." Caliam poked his arm to get his attention."Are you sure you're going to finish that?"

Erandir faked a scowl, but couldn't hold on to it. He gave Caliam a friendly shove.

"Get your own."

Just then, Caliam glanced up. His grin disappeared. "Oh no…"

His mouth tightened into a thin line as he stood. "In case anyone asks, you haven't seen me. Got it?"

"What do you mean I haven't seen you?"

He might as well have been asking the air. When Caliam wanted to disappear, he wasted no time about trying. Erandir was so intent on watching him slink to the back door that he didn't see Raya's approach until she was right in front of him. From her dark hair and eyes to her small frame, she looked different from Caliam in almost every respect. It took a little imagination to see the family resemblance, though they were full siblings.

She wiped her hands on her apron and brushed away a stray wisp of hair. "How is everything?"

"Just how I like it, thank you."

She beamed, and began to clear away dishes from a now-empty table nearby. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Tell me, who is your brother hiding from today?"

She nearly dropped a dish. "You've seen him?"

"I didn't say that."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course. I should've known."

"So it's you he's hiding from?"

"No," she sighed, "not exactly. He didn't say who. Something about a sore loser. He does have some explaining to do."

"I think I see. What'd he win?"

"A war horse, of all things! I don't approve of his gambling in any case, but what does he think he'll do with a war horse?"

Her exasperation with Caliam was nothing new, but he hadn't seen this kind of worry on her face before.

He tried to reassure her. "Maybe he'll sell it."

"He's already named it."

That didn't sound too good. "If I do see him, I'll talk to him about it."

Before she could reply she had to leave, called away by another customer. At least she didn't look so worried now.

He turned his attention back to his food— and the surrounding hum of conversation. Was it considered eavesdropping to be paying attention in a crowded room?

There wasn't much he hadn't heard before, though the general tone was gloomier. When he heard nothing more about Merian, he breathed a sigh of relief. If people had been speculating about her, they'd moved on to other topics. Then he spotted the lean figure of Arric Valere, an errand-rider who always passed through Wettham on his way to Envar. If anyone had the type of information he was after, it'd be him.

>>———>

Dusk.

Not far outside the town, in a stand of pines among the surrounding hills, Reul lay in wait alongside Faldur and Telem.

Their horses had been stabled at a nearby croft, so as not to give their hiding place away. His suggestion. Care had been taken to ensure that the crofter would not betray their presence to anyone. Faldur's orders.

"You're sure they came this way?" Faldur's voice came from somewhere to his left, but it was hard to see him, cloaked in black as he was with a hood drawn up over his head.

"Positive." Telem's voice was firm. "That was a lady's boot print I found, and who else would have a lady's riding boot around here?"

A lucky find. He would of course feel the need to prove himself after his last mistake.

"Still seems too easy," Reul muttered. "He has to know we're tracking him, but if so he should've thought of that. What if they don't come out the same way?"

"He will. I don't think he knows how close we are."

"He's overconfident."

"Exactly." A flash of white was the only hint of Faldur's smile. Unnerving in the dark.

"Or he's taunting us." Reul frowned. Either could be true. He'd done it before.

"You worry too much." Telem shifted impatiently. "I still say we go in after them now."

Reul held his breath. Faldur could respond in any number of ways. Not many of them good.

"Be my guest, but if you get in trouble with the Watch I'm not coming in to help you out."

Telem didn't move.

"I thought as much. We'll take them here, and not have to worry about any interference."

Faldur was in a rare good humor, anticipating the catch of his prize.

It couldn't be that simple, no matter what he said. If there was enough cover to hide them, they'd disappear. Trying to capture them alive sure was an interesting complication. The orders for the princess made sense, but he'd give a lot to know why lord Aremor wanted Erandir brought in alive.

Not that it really mattered. He knew his duty, and would stick to it, no matter what.

Faldur was one of the best, if not the best. As for him and his brother, he figured their best hope lay in Erandir's seeming reluctance to kill them. He'd had ample opportunity, but never taken advantage of it. Something to be grateful for, anyway.

But would that change now that Erandir had someone else to protect?

>>———>

Erandir let himself in by the side door. After hearing Arric's news, he needed a talk with Wynn more than ever, and most of it would be best kept from Merian.

He hoped she was asleep. The last thing he needed right now was to look her in the eye and pretend nothing was wrong. Everything was.

But of course, he couldn't tell her that either.

His hopes were dashed when he heard their voices coming from the library. He smiled in spite of himself. The library. Where else?

They were both seated at Wynn's desk, where two large lamps illuminated them both, sitting on either side of a large map of Lyria.

Their conversation broke off when he went in. His face must've shown some hint of his thoughts, but it was Merian, not Wynn, who asked what was the matter.

"Nothing."

"That does not look like nothing to me."

He heaved a sigh. "All right, it's not. But you don't want to hear it."

"And when has that mattered?"

Wynn studied them both in silence, but the corner of his mouth lifted. He was enjoying this too much.

Maybe he should tell her what he'd heard. She had a right to know. But he didn't want to be the one to give her the news. She'd take it far better from someone else. Anyone else. Anyone but him.

He ignored her question. "What are you looking at?"

Wynn had to have recognized the diversion tactic for what it was, but he went along with it anyway. "We were trying to figure out the best route for ye to take when ye leave." He tapped the Cyning road markings. "She favors this one. I dinna think it's the best way, though it might be the fastest."

And would take them straight into territory only recently captured by Dorenan. Should he tell her?

Erandir shook his head. "We're not going that way. It's being faster won't matter if we get caught, and the road is far too open. Dangerous, even if we have temporarily lost Faldur."

"I must make haste," she said. "The risk is small, and worthwhile if it shortens the distance. I say we take it."

He stiffened. "Don't press it," he warned."Last I checked, I don't take orders from you."

"Though you seem quite accustomed to giving them." The ice crept back into her voice. "Kellensor is not far from the border. If we can get there, I shall be able to send a messenger. You could leave me there, if all goes well. "

He groaned. No getting around it, he had to tell her now.

"Kellensor has fallen. The town was razed to the ground."

"What?" Her eyes widened. "When?"

"Two weeks past."

Once begun, he couldn't keep the rest of it from spilling out.

"Carrow was next. Averra surrendered without a fight."

Her face was ashen, reminding him sharply of every reason he'd given himself why he shouldn't be the one to tell her."I'm sorry."

She didn't seem to hear him. "My twin brother was heading to Carrow when I left home."

She looked first to Wynn, then up at him, her eyes pleading for any hope he could give.

He was torn. Any hope he could give might turn out to be false, which would be worse than none in the end. "They said there were no survivors."

"No," she breathed. "Oh please…not Arrol!" She closed her eyes, but the corners glistened with tears. She buried her face in her hands.

The side of him that wanted to comfort her won out. He owed her all the information he had.

"He may not have been there, my lady. I heard no mention of him. If a prince of Arenath had been there, it would've been in the report."

Her voice came out muffled. "You do not know that it was not."

"Who'd ye hear it from?" Even Wynn's voice sounded strained.

"Arric."

"An errand rider," Wynn said for Merian's benefit. "He'd have the facts. For now, ye have good reason to hope Arrol is safe."

She raised her head, but her shoulders still sagged under the weight of the news he'd given her.

Wynn laid a hand on her arm. "Come, Lass. It’s late. Ye should get some rest."

She allowed Wynn to show her to a room without protest, something which told Erandir much about her present state, and Erandir sank wearily into the chair himself. Wynn's voice became a distant rumble, no words were clear, but if Merian answered it was too softly for her words to carry at all.

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