#i do have more stuff for his talons and things but hmm

[iobartach]

miguel takes a 'fix it when necessary' approach to any issues that arise from his dna being 50% spider. some of the problems / vulnerabilities he's attempted to address scientifically include;

occasional biting reflex; leading to a need to bite objects / materials durable enough to withstand his fangs. sometimes becomes a venomous bite, but is dependent on how recently engaged he was in combat. much like actual spiders, it serves to subdue and immobilize prey, and is more often produced during combat / shortly afterwards.

effects of pesticides; recent exposure to an unknown insecticide resulted in symptoms consistent with flu. healing factor took longer than usual to purge the toxin, (made further worse due to the additional presence of recently received injuries). his ability to produce webbing was also hindered, necessitating a period of recovery (he got 'grounded')

reduction in sleep & appetite; it is a rare occurrence that he'd get a full 7 - 9 hours of sleep, short of passing out / getting knocked out. in reality, it is closer to around 4 - 5 hours. he has regularly gone over a full day without resting or napping. similar is true for his eating habits, where it is a common occurrence for him to decline meal offers, or simply forgets to eat entirely. this has led to occasions where his biting reflex returns with a vengeance, pushing him to act in ways that appear more arachnid than human until his hunger is satiated.

current balance of human to spider DNA stands at 48.1% to 51.9%; this has led to an increased number of incidents where miguel bares his fangs, without realising. LYLA continuously monitors the balance. so far, all his attempts to restore his human DNA from existing samples has failed, with efforts continuously ongoing to find a solution.

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: The House Always… Loses?! Pt 2

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. This was supposed to be a one shot about how Husk sold his soul, but I couldn’t help myself.]

[Part 2/2 Word count 1760 Cw: gambling, addiction]

——————

It did end up entertaining. There were lots of gambling dens in the city (it was hell after all) but Husk’s soon came to be known as a place of class. You could lose all your money or your soul, but it would be somewhere that didn’t stink of demon excrement. You might pass out wasted while watching the shows, but the staff wouldn’t toss you into the gutter. They’d provide a bucket and water and charge you extra for the courtesy.

His policy on fighting was ironclad. Anyone who tried to stir things up got a beat down from him. Some demons, seeing Husk at half their height- or less- forgot that he was an Overlord. And the title wasn’t just given away. It was earned. Some nights you’d arrive for your performance and see scorch and skid marks on the ground in front of the casino. Occasionally a bloody splatter.

So with a reputation for the finer stuff, Husk had no end of high rollers gambling away their nights. Your presence definitely helped in the early days; you didn’t do many shows outside of your home district or Cannibal Town in the ‘70s. Demons who had only heard rumors of the voice that charmed the Radio Demon had a chance to get an earful. They came to hear you and they stayed for the thrill of the games of chance.

Alastor accompanied you some nights, roughly once a week. After your performance you’d have a meal together and mingle by the tables. Neither of you were fond of games of chance. It was amusing to watch others wager money and more on dice and cards.

Husk usually came out on top, which made the high rollers burn for the chance to recoup their losses. On nights you went alone, you could occasionally snare a couple souls. The delicate little bird offering chips for something so little as a favor? Even if she was the wife of an Overlord it couldn’t be that bad. It didn’t matter if they won or lost with your collateral. Your talon was hooked in. They’d come for more on other nights, you would oblige until the favors stacked up and the only way to pay was with their soul.

Husk knew what you were doing and let you play your game. The amount of deals you made was inconsequential to what the house did. And when he knew a good number were brought through his doors because of you…well, call it a bonus for the great work.

Exterminations came and went. You didn’t really keep track beyond holing up with Alastor the day of. Suffice to say, years passed and power fluctuated. Alastor’s broadcast of screams had an ever growing playlist. You had your flock, both willing and contracted. Husk’s casino continued to thrive.

Until it didn’t.

The problem with games of chance is there’s a chance you lose.

Maybe it was because the latest extermination rattled the gambler. His casino staff had been hit hard this time, losing almost half their ranks. Or maybe his streak finally ran out. But Husk took a loss, a big one. Then another.

And another.

And another.

He didn’t lose every game. But the high stakes ones were the ones he couldn’t seem to claw back from. The Overlord was rattled and his power was waning.

You and Alastor discussed the situation. You had returned home after seeing another big loss for Husk. As the two of you relaxed on the couch, the state of souls around you was an excellent topic.

“So it really does seem as though the poor fellow’s luck has run dry,” you mused. “Or at least, he can’t seem to make his own luck any longer.”

“Hmmm. Hmm hmm hmm.” You could see the shadow of his antlers growing as he considered the situation. “You’ve been there so often darling, do you think he can?”

You interlocked your talons with his claws. “Unless he gets some confidence back? No. He’s too shaken now.”

“Well. That sounds perfect.” The static in his voice intensified. “I trust you have no objections, cher?”

“Mais non cher! I’ll miss performing at such a nice venue and the easy pickings, but that’s the way of things.” You paused. “I would prefer his screams not be added to your repertoire, but I’ll leave that to you.”

He brought your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “I’m also fond of the fellow cher. I believe it will be better to keep him around after the deal is struck.”

You grinned, feeling your wings becoming sharp edged, the room lights reflecting off your now metallic feathers. “Lovely. I’ll let you know when the time is right.”

It was three weeks later. Husk’s losing streak didn’t stop. And he didn’t stop trying to win everything back. Even from across the building, you could feel his desperation. It was when he started eyeing some loan sharks you knew it was time for Alastor to come in.

Your husband escorted you, like so many nights before. You gave a lovely performance, making sure to put a frenzied tone to a number of pieces. Just enough to set the mood and keep Husk off balance. Then your routine of sharing dinner and mingling at the gaming tables. Not that there was much conversation going on. There were very few patrons around. The ship was sinking and even the most loyal were scurrying away.

“Husk my good man!” Alastor said jovially. “You seem to be in quite a situation here. I’d say things look rather dire if I didn’t know better.”

“Ah, no! No…just a slow night.” He scrambled to make everything seem normal. But there was no hiding the tension in his voice, the bags under his eyes, or the strain in his smile. “Things have been… quieter since extermination day, I’m sure Y/N told you.”

“Ah yes, she did mention the angels seemed to have it out for you and yours this last time. Tragic really. Well, if that’s all,” he said with a perky air, “what say we play a few hands?” He produced stacks of chips that Husk eyed avidly.

It was a given they’d play. The first few hands, Alastor won a couple, Husk won more. There was a desperate gleam in his black and gold eyes as his winnings grew.

It was a given he’d start to lose. Husk’s need to win it back increased. He’d been winning! Those chips had been his, he just needed a good hand to get them back. Alastor’s smile never faded, his confidence unnerving Husk. Which made him all the easier to read and manipulate.

It was a given that Alastor would play the other Overlord like a piano. And eventually, the wall of chips around your husband proved how well he’d done. Husk had only one thing left to wager.

“Let’s try something a little different for our last game of the night chum.” Alastor spread six cards out on the felt. A royal flush and a joker. “You get one draw of a card. Get the ace, the whole pot is yours. King, queen, jack or ten and I take my winnings. Draw the joker, and I win your soul as well.”

Husk hesitated. Were those odds worth putting his soul on the line? “I draw a face card, we split the pot,” he countered.

“Hmmm.” You shivered pleasantly as Alastor’s static hum reverberated. “Done!” He handed the cards to you to shuffle. “If you would, cher?” You happily obliged. The symbols of his magick gathered around as his antlers stretched out. You could feel your feathers shift to metallic and decorative at the anticipation.

It was a given Husk would draw the joker. It didn’t matter how long he hesitated, eyes flicking between the cards and Alastor’s eternal smile. His wavering claw pulled the card, dooming him.

As soon as he revealed the joker in his hand, Alastor’s magick formed a thick green collar and chain. The collar snapped onto Husk’s neck and the chain rested in your husband’s grasp. He made a tsk-ing sound as he wrapped it around his microphone cane.

“Bad luck, my good man.” His laughter grew, filling the building as his shadows spread. One of them found Husk’s own cane. The former Overlord reached for it out of reflex but the shadowy tentacle dropped it into Alastor’s hand. He examined the delicate orb on top before presenting it to you with a bow. “If you would please ma cher?”

You took hold of the gold body, admiring it for a moment. You could feel your cheeks stretching as you grinned. Your art deco wings rustled with your glee, sounding like dozens of wind chimes. “Of course darling.” You infused the cane with your silver wind magick. A laugh bubbled up from your core as you slammed the butt of it to the ground. A wave of silver blinded every present.

When it passed, the casino was gone. Everyone was in an empty lot, including one unfortunate with his pants around his ankles that was suddenly sitting on bare stone. You examined the head of the cane. Inside the orb was the casino, suit symbols, dice, and chips swirling around as if it was a snow globe.

Alastor leaned over to look at your handiwork. “Exquisitely done cher! One of your best works if I do say so myself!” He gave you a kiss on the cheek. Husk could only slump to the ground, weighed down by the chain of his deal. There was a blank look over his tired face. His hands hung limply down, claws twitching in shock. Not surprising, his stronghold and power base had just vanished before his eyes.

“Merci darling, I’m rather proud of this one. His power is neatly contained within and you can allow him whatever access you see fit!” You looked down at the feline demon. “We wouldn’t want our latest acquisition to be completely helpless after all.”

“Yes indeedy my dear!” He glanced around at the stunned patrons and employees. “Alright folks, you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here! Ha ha ha!” He held out his arm, you took it, and the two of you started strolling away. “Come along Husker, we have some terms of your deal to review before tomorrow!”

Still in a daze, Husk trailed behind you two. His leash wasn’t visible at the moment but he followed as if he felt every link between him and Alastor.

A/N: I honestly thought this would take longer, surprise! Shrike’s taking the casino is pure self indulgence on my part. HC for when Overlords lose to another, the winner can do as they please with their base of operations: taking over it, destroying it, or preserving it like here. If it was one of the Vees, it’d be their portion of the tower, Alastor his broadcast station, Rosie her emporium, Carmilla her factory. Shrike’s would be her favorite performing venue at first, then her recording studio when she takes over during Alastor’s sabbatical. But it’s something they all can do.

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 27: Ecology

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Casey is helping Mikey to pack essentials.

"Paints?"

Mikey nods.

"Paper?"

Mikey nods.

"Any clothes?"

Mikey stops mid-nod.

Huh. He actually hadn't thought about that...

Mikey looks down at his bare self. Casey wears clothes, April wears clothes, Drrrrrrrrraxum (he forgot his name for a sec) wears clothes, even Splinter wears clothes! His brothers wear clothes, to some extent. Sometimes they wear sweaters or hoodies or shirts, but mostly they wear things like masks and belts and gloves or wrappings over their arms. Mikey doesn't wear anything at all.

"Mmm, yes, pack clothes. Wwwwwhat, uh... what should Mikey -- I, what should I pack?"

"Well, in case it gets cold, maybe a sweater or something," Casey offers. "Do you wanna look through some of your stuff?"

Mikey nods and creeps next to Casey as he opens up a dresser drawer. It's filled with sweatshirts and jackets and pullovers.

"Which one looks good to you?"

"Mmmmmm.... um, I-I don't know," Mikey mumbles, somewhat overwhelmed by the number of choices.

He didn't think there would be this many clothes to pick from...

Casey sees the slight agitation on Mikey's face.

"Well, we should probably pick one that will keep you warm, so a thicker one is best," he suggests. "And maybe something soft? Oh, and let's look for a bigger size to fit over your shell..."

Casey starts to rummage through the drawer. He pulls out a hoodie with a sun decal and examines it.

"How's this one?" he asks.

"Looks good," Mikey says, sniffing it. It smells kind of like him! A little different than he smells now, but still similar... "W-will it ffffit?"

"Let's try," Casey replies, spreading it open and helping to direct Mikey's head and arms into the corresponding holes.

It's a big size, and Mikey vanishes in the hood. His talons are hidden by the sleeves, he flaps them around with a giggle. It's a surprisingly big hoodie, and Mikey wonders why he ever got something so huge. He doesn't recall that it was a gift for Raph but he'd outgrown it quickly, and gave it to the sunniest brother in the group.

"I like this one," Mikey chirps gleefully. "Can I keep it on?"

"Sure," Casey smiles. "It's yours anyway. We should find a few more to pack, though..."

"Big one!" Mikey requests. "Like this big!"

"Uh, well, I think that might be the biggest hoodie you have... Raphael might have a few we can borrow. I'll find some extras of yours to pack, though... while I do that, why don't you go get your blankets and pillows ready?"

Mikey chirps and crawls over to his bed -- whoop!

Mikey trips on his sleeve and crashes.

"Mikey! You okay?"

"Mm-hmm!" He says quickly, regaining his balance. "All good!"

Mikey shakes himself out and goes again -- whoop!

Mikey tumbles slightly, but catches himself. He tries folding the sleeves up above his wrists, but they fall loose and drape over his knuckles and drag across the floor as he trots. Mikey grumbles softly as he tries to figure this out...

"What's wrong?" Casey asks.

"Mmmngh... can't move right," Mikey groans. "Sleeves too long..."

"Do you need me to cut them or --"

"No, just... hmm. I can't mmmmove. Won't fold up right... can C-C-C-Casey help?"

Casey looks over the situation carefully, coming up with possible solutions.

"Well, if I fold them, they'll probably just fall loose again," he says. "You won't be able to crawl around in that."

"Do I have to take it off?"

"No, but there is another solution."

"Eh?" Mikey perks up. "What to do?"

"Have you tried walking upright?"

Mikey pauses, mouth open. His hands fidget.

"Haven't tried yet.... a l-little nervous..."

"Do you wanna try now? I'll help!" Casey offers, standing up and offering a hand to him. "I'll catch you if you fall."

Mikey swallows nervously. He reaches out for Casey's hand and takes it, careful not to grip him too hard for fear of cutting his skin with his nails. Casey pulls him up, causing Mikey to stumble with a cry.

"I got you, I got you!" he reassures him. "You're okay... Okay, you've got your balance?"

"Mm-hmmmmmmm," Mikey says with a nervous twinge in his voice.

"Alright, so follow my lead, one foot out --"

Casey swings his right leg forwards, taking a small step. Mikey watches as if Casey just jumped fifty buildings in one leap. He shakily lifts his own leg, and follows. He wobbles as he moves, almost losing balance and tipping over, but Casey holds his hand with determination.

Casey then moves his left foot to match. Mikey follows slowly, weakly. His legs shake. It's mostly just the balance that's his issue. The new tail is throwing him off, trying to readjust to the new center of gravity. But Mikey is figuring it out. Casey holds his hand like he's a toddler, walking with him around the room and giving words of affirmation and praise as he starts to pick up the pace. Casey steps further and further away from Mikey the longer they walk, letting him gain confidence in himself and get used to walking alone. The two get distracted from the packing and start roaming the halls. Casey lets go of Mikey's hand --

.

.

.

"No wet go!" Mikey scolds.

He's only a year old, and can barely get his points across, but he's trying. Splinter holds his tiny, stubby hands and uses his own claws to keep him upright as the tiny tot tries walking for the fourth time today, sixteenth time this week, fortieth time this month.

"I won't," Splinter promises with a sigh.

It's only been a year since the mutations, and he's still getting used to walking himself. Every once in a while, his tail will smack him in the leg, he'll forget it's there and think a strange snake got into the lair and try to protect the boys from it before realizing in embarrassment what it actually is. He's getting better with it, though...

Though parenthood is a new challenge he can't say he ever expected. The worry that he may mess up irrevocably without realizing it, the fear that maybe there will be an issue in health that he doesn't know how to solve, and even small things, like the differences in each son and learning curves or gaps.

The rest of the boys are walking. But Mikey is the baby, he's having trouble. He seems to be the 'special' baby, the late bloomer. He can crawl like his brothers do, but not as fast. They all can walk, Raphael can even run by this point! And the others can swim like experts. But Mikey almost drowned in his very first bath. Splinter might be babying him a bit, taking extra caution with him in some aspects... he does it for each baby. He's terrified of Donatello getting hurt because of his soft shell, so he is extra gentle. He's sure that Raphael is never alone because he'll start crying, and he lets him sleep in bed with him at night rather than in the box with the others. Leonardo is an attention hog and cries when he doesn't have the spotlight, so Splinter has to praise him a lot to help him feel validated. And Michelangelo is smaller than the rest, and for whatever reason he can't seem to stay on his feet for very long.

Despite all this, Mikey is determined and optimistic. But he's still nervous, and holds his father's hand with all his might. He fits within Splinter's palm, and Splinter helps to balance the baby boxshell as best he can without knocking him over.

Mikey takes a deep breath and swings his leg out. His foot hits the floor with a loud 'plap', and he swings his other leg out as well.

Splinter holds his hand behind him gently, his youngest son clinging to his fingers. Eventually, he takes the hand behind him away. He slowly leads Mikey around the area, guiding him by moving his finger in certain directions.

"Mikey say no wet go!" the baby shouts again when his father's hand drifts away faster than Mikey can keep up.

"I'm not letting go," Splinter explains. "I'm just moving my hand a little."

"Dada go too fast," Mikey scolds. "Dada no wet go."

"I won't," he promises.

Splinter and Mikey travel all around the room, with the little baby toddling around as best he can. It seems like he might be getting the hang of it!

.

.

.

Mikey trips and tumbles, having been distracted by the memory.

Casey grabs his arm as he reaches out for him, pulling Mikey back up as best he can.

"Whoah! Mikey, you okay?"

"Uh-huh," Mikey mumbles quickly, regaining his footing and holding onto Casey as though his life depended on it. "I'mmmmmm okayyyyy... jus' tripped."

"Okay," Casey says with a smile. "But so far, are you okay? Walking all good?"

"Shaky," Mikey says. "T-r-r-r-ricky... but, okay."

"Great," Casey nods. "It'll be a little difficult at first, but you'll get it!"

"Casey doing good job helping," Mikey says with a chuckle as he takes another step forward. "Thank you..."

"It's no problem," Casey says with a soft chuckle in return. "It's nothing compared to helping Sensei with his physical therapy after he lost his arm..."

"Huh?" Mikey asks in confusion. He's mentioned 'Sensei' before... who is he?

"Oh, n-nothing. Just something that happened in the alternate future..."

"Casey wanna talk about it?" Mikey asks.

Casey looks at Mikey in surprise. Everyone has been avoiding the subject of the future as though hearing more about it will bring about a crazy time curse or something.

But... if Mikey wants to know... what can it hurt?

"Well... okay! See, in the future..."

Casey talks on and on, explaining how Leo had lost his arm and had difficulty getting used to the physical therapy, and Casey helped him to adjust. Casey talks about how Donatello created a prosthetic arm that was equipped with weapons and equipment, and when Casey (who eight years old at the time) wanted one, Donatello made him a special glove fitted with a grappling hook so he could match his Sensei. Casey talks about how Mikey was an inspiration and kept the positivity in the Resistance, using his mystic powers to create all kinds of beautiful magic for the people and immeasurable protections and attacks against the Krang.

Mikey listens to Casey intensely, despite the fact that none of it makes any sense whatsoever to him.

.

.

.

Leo walks out and places his stuff down by the exit. There's a pile growing already, with duffel bags and totes and a few boxes of things that the group will need to occupy themselves. Leo packed several comics for himself, as well as puzzles and games for Mikey so he can exercise his brain. Raph packed up a flurry of stuffed animals, and was also tasked with packing Mikey's memory goop. April finished packing snacks for them to munch on while at Draxum's, and she also took the lead for gathering up Mikey's art supplies, too. Donnie packed an army's worth of purple jackets and hoodies and all of his tech and information on Mikey's double-mutation. He still hasn't given up trying to find a cure, despite knowing that there won't be one. Splinter packed up a few robes, his Lou Jitsu film collection, and as many scrapbooks as he could fit.

Leo notices that -- despite the enormous pile -- there are still a few bags missing.

Specifically orange bags.

Casey was supposed to help Mikey get packed up, but he hasn't seen or heard from either of them for a while. What are they up to?

Leo searches the lair, finding the two walking along one of the halls together. Mikey is standing upright, rather than crouched down on the floor on all fours. He's walking! Actually walking? Leo had been wondering about that, whether or not Mikey could still stand up or not.

He's a little shaky, but he's got the spirit. Mikey looks happy, but not completely confident in himself; he's holding onto CJ like a lifeline, refusing to let go as they roam around the rec room together, arm in arm.

Casey keeps Mikey entertained as they walk, talking on and on about...

Leo stops and feels his head go numb as he hears what Casey Jones Jr. is talking about.

"...And then Sensei grabbed the Krang dog by the leg and threw it at --"

"Hey, guys," Leo says, waving at them. "What's going on in here?"

"Oh, hey Leo!" CJ says with a nervous smile. "I was just helping Mikey try walking again. And, uh, we just started talking, and..."

"Casey is confusing!" Mikey announces proudly, stating it like it's an award or title that Casey earned. "Learning a lot!"

"Learning?" Leo asks.

"Future," Mikey explains. "You have an arm -- uhh.... Casey, what is the word?"

"Prosthetic?"

"Yeah, that. Leo gets a cool arm! Like a gift! You lost your old one, so Donnie made you another! Why did you have multiple arms?"

Leo turns and stares at Casey, his eye twitching.

"...It's.... uh.... a long story," Leo manages. "But, um, maybe we can talk about it later."

Casey shrinks a bit, his head goes low and his shoulders slump. Mikey notices the shift in the room, and is about to ask why they're both acting weird when Leo changes the subject.

"So, are you all packed?"

"Oh, uh, n-no, not yet, we kinda got distracted..."

"Well, why don't I help you out real quick?"

Leo pulls the two back into Mikey's room. He has Mikey pick out several more sweatshirts and hoodies to wear while Leo and CJ go to bag up his blankets and pillows.

Mikey listens to them as they whisper; eventually they catch on and sign to each other instead. Mikey watches from his peripherals, trying to not let them realize he's eavesdropping on them. It's tough, they both turn away and he can only catch bits and pieces.

'...why would you tell him...'

'...didn't think... issue... he asked....'

'...he's confused...'

'What do you mean?'

'Memory... doesn't know... aliens...'

'...sorry... didn't know...'

'...don't want to make it more confusing for him...'

'Okay...'

'Besides... talked about this...promised to keep it secret...'

'...just wanted someone to talk to...'

'....why should they know... painful... don't want them to hurt...'

'What about my hurt?'

Casey and Leo turn away from Mikey fully. He can't see the rest of their conversation, but by their body language he can tell it's not going well. CJ gets up and storms away. Leo sighs and droops in the corner of the room. Mikey hops over to him and nuzzles his back.

"Leo okay?"

He turns around and fakes a smile at him.

"All good, mi hermano. Just... trying to figure some stuff out with Casey."

"Is Casey okay?"

Leo heaves a sigh.

"...Let's just get you packed up. Do you wanna bring your chucks?"

Leo holds out the sticks he tried to give Mikey a few days ago. Mikey still doesn't understand what they are.

"No," he says with a shrug. "I don't. Unless you want them..."

"No, I don't -- Mikey, they're your weapons!" Leo clarifies. "You use them for your ninpo, remember?"

"What's a ninpo?" Mikey asks as he starts digging through his shirts again.

Leo is silent for a while. Mikey gets nervous that he said something wrong and turns back to look at him. Leo's eyes are wide and his face is shaken. But he blinks and resets, his expression changes to a feeble smile.

"Uh, nevermind. I'll tell ya later..."

.

.

.

Once Mikey's supplies are all compiled, the group meets in the garage.

Leo pulls out his katanas and slashes the air, creating a portal.

"All right everyone, let's go!"

Leo directs the group as though he were directing traffic, each person jumping through with their stuff one at a time. Mikey and Leo are the last two left in the room.

"You ready?"

Mikey nods, slowly pushing himself up and standing with a wobble. Leo takes his hand, and the two step through the portal.

It disorients Mikey more than he expected, and he stumbles after the second step, almost falling over before Leo wraps his arms around him and steadies him again.

"Well well, it's nice to see you finally arrive," Draxum grumbles as he greets Donnie. "Although, I didn't expect you to bring so many guests... I thought you said it was just your family?"

"Yeah, that's me, Mikey, Raph, Leo, Splinter, April, and Casey Jr.," he explains without looking up from his phone. "Oh, and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0."

Mikey notices CJ perk up with a smile when his name is mentioned in the list of family members.

But Draxum sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I see. I didn't account for that... I'm afraid I don't have enough room for everyone."

"I won't be staying overnight," April offers.

"Still, the addition of the rat and the time traveler was unexpected."

"Well, it's a good thing you have a certified genius to help with construction, then," Donnie says, cracking his knuckles. "S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., prepare the schematics!"

"On it, dude," the robot says with a laugh as he starts to scan the building.

"You don't honestly think that we can add two extra rooms from scratch by this evening?" Draxum challenges.

"You doubt my skills?"

"In addition to the rest of the renovations? Finishing by tomorrow night would be a miracle," he growls. "We'll have to find somewhere else to house you all until it's finished..."

"Like where?" Raph asks. "Not the Hotel Nexus..."

"Big Mama is not the only hotel proprietor in the Hidden City," Draxum huffs. "I know of a nice resort that could take us in..."

"Wait, resort? Not the one that only takes in people with hair, right?" Leo fidgets, his hands reaching to cover his bald head.

"I do have a membership there," Draxum says. "But there is another one --"

"Not the one across the street!" Leo begs, almost falling to his knees.

"No, of course not. There's more than one, don't worry. I'll call for a coach, and you can stay there until my home is repaired."

Draxum summons a flying cart with a pegasus, and the group fill the trunk with their belongings and climb in. The winged horse brays and jumps into the air, carrying the cart away.

"Not exactly a simurgh ride, but still pretty cool," Leo smirks. "Whaddya think, Mikey?"

Mikey leans over the side of the cart, the wind in his face and the underworld beneath him. It's so pretty, incredibly bright and colorful! For so long, all he knew was white coats and grey tiles and pitch black machines...

Mikey hoots as the cart flies. He loves this! Raph reaches over to keep him safely in the wagon when he thinks Mikey might fall out.

Mikey takes in the many smells... there's an entire world down here! And another world above! Mikey starts bouncing with excitement and anticipation...

The cart lands in front of a large Yokai resort, multicolored palm trees dotting the lawn and enormous shells decorating the entrance.

The group step out, oohing and awing at the underground beaches and beautiful views from behind the building.

"How do they have a sky and ocean?" Raph asks, pointing.

"It's a form of portal magic," Draxum states.. "There are many parts of the world still uninhabited by man, hundreds of undiscovered islands in the ocean. The Yokai use special spells to create bridges between those islands and their own cities, folds in space and reality, creating the illusion that the sandy shores are here, when in fact we are --"

"Less talking, more vacay!" Splinter shouts, running into the hotel. "Papa needs a suntan and a fruity drink with a tiny umbrella!!"

April cackles as Draxum rolls his eyes.

"And to think I chose him as the mightiest warrior for my experiments..."

Mikey turns to look at Draxum when he hears the word 'experiments'. But no one else seems to mind. Leo notices Mikey's nervous twitch and pats him on the back.

"It's okay," Leo whispers. "He means something else. He is a good guy. I promise you're safe."

Safe. Safe. Safe.

Mikey trusts Leo.

The duo follow after the rest into the lobby as Splinter rings the front bell several times over.

"Be right there!" a surprisingly cheery voice calls out.

A moment later, two small bat-like creatures fly out to greet the guests.

"Hi, and welcome to -- DRAXUM?!"

"BOSS!"

Draxum's eyes widen.

"Huginn? Muninn? You work here now??"

"Yeah!" Huginn cheers. "Can you believe it? We got such a cushy job here! I mean, well... it's okay. The pay stinks, the manager is the owner's son, we have to give rent for our own room, which is actually the supply closet..."

"But at least we have dental!" Muninn chimes in.

"...You're gargoyles. You don't have any teeth," Draxum states flatly.

"Yeah.... we didn't really think this through," Muninn sighs.

"Well, you're looking... um, good," Draxum says quickly. "I wasn't sure what happened to you two after the incident with the Dark Armor."

"We kinda... went off the grid after you disappeared and the arrest warrants went out," Huginn sighs. "It was tough finding work. But you're off the hook now! Congrats!"

"We've never been prouder!" Muninn smiles. "So, what's up with you? Looks like you finally got the turtles to team up with you!"

"It's a long story. But I've, uh..." Draxum swallows. "Been busy. Restoring my old home."

"Wow, really? Still?" Huginn asks. "Well, if, uh... you ever need someone to perch on your shoulders again, or y'know, do menial tasks like bridling ravenous ponies or filing taxes..."

Draxum smiles.

"I'll let you know. In the meantime, do you have any rooms available?"

"For you?" Muninn grins wide. "Private luxury suite!"

He tosses the key to the warring warrior scientist, who catches it with ease.

"We'll take your bags up for ya!" Muninn says, fluttering over to the pile. "You guys can go check out the pool, spa, bingo hall, buffet, and beachside!"

The teens immediately run out the back door to explore the beach as Draxum and his former goyles start to gather up the luggage.

Huginn notices Mikey scurrying past.

"Hey boss, isn't that...?"

"Like I said, it's a long story," Draxum says with a sigh.

.

.

.

The teens rush out and explore the beach. An aurora of rainbows wrap over the edge of the property, creating an archway that leads to a hidden tropical paradise. Mikey can feel the breeze and smell the water from where he is. Casey stares in shock at it all. He starts to tear up.

"You okay, CJ?" April asks.

"...I... huh? Oh, yeah," he says, coming back to reality, sniffing a bit as he wipes his eyes. "I just... I never knew that the world looked like this... it's so beautiful, and intact, and... big..."

April smiles, taking his hand and leading him to the beach.

"Come on, future kid. We're gonna introduce you to the magic of a beachside vacation."

Mikey chirps happily as he runs alongside them. Leo and Raph are already at the water's edge, splashing in the tide. Donnie watches from just beyond their reach, smiling softly, letting his feet sink in the sand as he basks in the sun.

It's so warm here, the sun is so bright and the water is so sparkling...

Mikey presses a hand into the wet sand. It squishes under his pressure. Casey mimics him, pressing his hand into the soft sand. He laughs. Mikey laughs with him, digging his claws deeper and deeper. His knuckles feel something hard with ridges. He pulls out a shell. Casey awes at it, staring in wonder. Mikey hands it over for him to examine.

Open. Space. Run. Free. Zoom.

Mikey starts bolting, running along the water's edge and kicking up sand as he races against the wind. He shrieks with laughter. He circles around and races back, zooming back and forth over and over again. He can hear Casey and April laughing at his speed, enjoying the fact that he's enjoying himself.

Mikey turns to the water. Leo and Raph are up to their knees in the waves. Leo beckons him out to join them.

Mikey, crouches, getting ready to pounce...

His animal intuitions take over. Rather than jump in the water... he runs. His legs speed under him, his back straightens and he runs on two feet instead of all fours. He bolts across the water, going past Leo and Raph in an instant and speeding away. He runs atop the water, the webbing in between his toes creating air pockets beneath that keep him afloat as he runs.

Mikey runs on water, never having felt more free in his life.

He can hear the others shouting for him and cheering him on. Mikey laughs loudly as he runs in an arc and returns quickly, coming towards Leo and Raph, who realize too late what Mikey's plans are.

Mikey leaps and jumps them. The two shout in fear as he pounces, knocking them into the water.

Donnie howls with laughter. April woops and Casey cheers. Leo and Raph are sputtering under Mikey but laughing all the same. Mikey cackles with joy as Raph splashes Mikey in retaliation and Leo flips him over, crashing him into an oncoming wave. Mikey swims around them like a snake before jumping out and pouncing on Raph again.

Splinter watches from the shore with a smile as his family lets themselves be kids for the first time in a very, very long time.

Prev || Next || Deleted Scene

[weonlyneedfour]

Really? They want that interview now? Come on, man, I was gonna do that for the employee valuation the next weekend! Oh really, three weeks I've been saying that, gee, like I've even HAD a weekend to sit down and look at the time. We just got back from another round of embarassing ourselves, can't I at least wash the clown make-up off first? No, whatever, f*%k it, I'll do it now. If I step in that shower, I ain't coming out for nothing. Hayato can file the report on how we dealt with Mr.Potluck and Shamaid when he's done picking sesame seeds outta his pants. This ain't gonna be for the public, right? Cause, y'know. Hmm, strictly for V.A.P.O.R intel only, got it. Ask away.

Marco Craine. 22 years old. Human turned vampire. Field name is Vulturine. Born in Garden District, New Orleans, was living in Toulonville, currently stationed out in Manhattan. I'm, uh, employed as a "specialized emergency responder", which is barely-respectable legalese for what everyone calls a registered superhero. I mean you guys read my file, right? If this isn't a public thing, what is this for? ... Whaddya mean, the "vampire thing"? Oh, you wanna pick at that, huh? Yeah, I know how this goes, I'm guessing half of you get to think vampires are not real even though you're looking at one. Oh I WISH that was true, believe me. You think I want people to know? You think this is fun for me? It's my life, jackass, I don't get to not-believe my way out of it.

...Okay so you wanna ask me about how vampire stuff works? Man I'm, look, sorry I snapped at you guys, under a lot of stress lately, but I'm not sure I can really help. Yeah, I don't know if my transfusion power is like a, me power, like the others have, or if it's a vampire power, not like I've been able to ask on the latter. I mean, not everyone's powers work the same, but any more particulars on how powers work than that, you're gonna have to go ask Kris, or Doc. Maybe I don't even have my own powers, or maybe I just got stuck with a gross ironic one that makes me suck at being a vampire.

I can't really go to the doctor to figure that stuff out, cause I risk ratting myself out. I have a pulse, but Kris ran some tests on me and apparently I got a bunch of organs missing, and she's not sure if it's a vampire thing or it it's just something my power did to the rest of my body. I mean, I'm pretty sure something like that happened to Noma. She's strong as hell, but I don't think she even has any organs left. I don't sleep on a coffin for the fun of it. I don't have a spleen and my liver doesn't heal properly, and if I don't sleep standing upright, I get really bad acid reflux. Plus, I see in the dark, and if I don't sleep in an enclosed space, I wake up pretty much as soon as the sun comes out. Also, I have bits of my intestines missing, but I'm pretty sure that's Talon Tori's fault. I guess my old folks were paying extra, cause she got, too close, that time. No, I'm not answering that. I go to the bathroom just fine, you dicks.

Yeah the fangs are mostly a defensive thing, like some animal scare tactic. The "drinking" is done through the fingers, see how they open up? But no I don't drink blood. And when I have to "borrow" blood occasionally for my power to work, I feel every drop that's not mine, and it all comes out soon as I can get it out. I guess that's what some of those organs I got missing were for. I mean, for one it tastes fucking gross. Two, I don't kill. Three, I don't even wanna RISK what would happen to me if I did drink it. Cause you know how I "turned", right? When my folks killed me, it kicked in. I had to have been born with latent vampirism, cause I don't remember ever getting bitten. Now, I can't confirm what I'm gonna say cause, and don't you ever tell Jeremy about this, but most of what I think I know about myself comes from the movies. But a lot of what goes on in the movies goes on with me for real, so I take it as enough accuracy to work with. But vampires, when they drink blood, they live forever by always regressing to the age they were when they got turned. Creepy old rich guy becomes creepy 20-something rich guy kind of deal, right? So, I got turned when I was a kid. I'm 22 now. So, going by that logic, there's like a 50/50 chance that if I drank blood, if it worked the way it's supposed to on vampires, that I'd just regress into a 10 year old again. And that is my actual worst nightmare. That's why I barely use my power. I don't even wanna risk any of that blood slipping in by accident. Maybe when I find my piece of shit parents I can ask them in private, assuming they don't kill me first. But yeah, nuh uh, no blood for me. Never had, never gonna have it.

Yeah, sorry, this isn't gonna work out man, my bad. Wait, actually I was meaning to ask, don't you V.A.P.O.R guys have intel on vampires? Cause you guys have intel on everybody for who knows how long. Again, I don't know any other vampires, I'm guessing the only ones I could ask are too busy hiding out somewhere trying to kill me. You guys are government spooks, don't you deal with MIB stuff? None of the other clowns you hired before me ever fought vampires? . . . Wow, great. It really is just a me problem. Joy.

[askmissthunder]

To the gang: What are your favorite Christmas songs?

Miss Thunder: One last question then I have to go to bed super early to catch my flight but, oh my goodness, I have so many favorites! Where to even start?!

Red Rabbit: How about we start with the old carols first then we can pick out the more up-to-date music?

Eli: Sounds good to me! Talon, are you gonna join us or…?

Talon: *Skimming through magazine* Nope. You kids go ahead though. Enjoy your rinky-dink fa-la-la music.

RR: Alrighty then! Penny, you first! What's your favorite old-timey Christmas carol?

E: Wait wait wait! What's the difference between a song and a carol? Aren't they the same thing?

MT : Oh, I can answer this, Eli. A carol is specifically a hymn (a religious song) that sings about Jesus or the Nativity. Very spiritual stuff! 

E: I see! That's to do with the statues of the baby and people in robes I see around town?

MT : Right! As for my favorite carol, I'm gonna have to pick three because I love playing these on my flute, "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen", "Good King Wenceslas" and "Silent Night". Here’s a particularly well done version of "Silent Night" by Julie Andrews.

RR: Oh, good pick with "Silent Night"! That one always puts me in a peaceful mood. Plus, "Good King Wenceslas" makes me think of A Christmas Carol or just 1800s London in general.

MT : It's definitely appropriate for the setting! When it's closer to Christmas Day, I like going to sleep listening to "Silent Night". So cozy…

RR: When I used to be in Choir at church, my favorite carol to sing was "Away in the Manger".

RR:

♪ Away in a manger

No crib for a bed

The little Lord Jesus

Laid down His sweet head ♪

 

RR and MT :

♪ The stars in the sky

Looked down where He lay

The little Lord Jesus

Asleep on the hay ♪

E: Very pretty! 

MT : Thank you! And what's your favorite carol, luv?

E: Uhmm…I don't know the name but the one that goes ♪ Rum pum pum pum ♪!

RR: Ohhh, "The Little Drummer Boy"!

E: Yeah, that one! I don't know about all that god baby stuff but I just like doing the Rum pum pum pum part. It's fun!

MT : You know what? As long as you enjoy the song, that's just as valid a reason as any, Eli.

RR: *Sniff!* That song always gets me teary-eyed, it’s such a a sweet song. Now on to the more modern music! I remember very vividly as a kid, and I still do, loving the Jackson 5's version of "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus".

MT : "I did! I really did see Mommy kissing Santa Claus and I'm gonna tell my Dad"! Hee hee!

RR: God, little Michael's voice is soooo good in that song! That last note?! *gives a chef's kiss* It's so beautiful! 

MT : Agreed! A more recent song I like is "Last Christmas" by Wham!

RR: Hmm…I don't know, it's nice but that song always feel like kind of a downer for me. I mean, he's singing about getting his heart broken at Christmas.

MT : I always saw it as a hopeful song meself because ♪ This year, to save me from tears/I'll give it to someone special ♪

RR: That's true.

E: Heh heh heh…I think I know my favorite Christmas song!

*Eli hops up on the couch and performs an air guitar*

E:

♪ Out of all the reindeers you know you're the mastermind

Run, run Rudolph, Randolph ain't too far behind

Run, run Rudolph, Santa's gotta make it to town

Santa, make him hurry, tell him he can take the freeway down

Run, run Rudolph 'cause I'm reelin' like a merry-go-round! ♪

RR: WOOO! GO ELI!

MT : *Wolf whistle* Bravo, sweetie! That was ace!

E: *Blushes* Heh heh! Thanks! It's the song that get me the most excited when I hear it on the radio at Christmastime! I love it, it doesn't sound like any other Christmas song!

RR: Well, that's Chuck Berry for you!

MT : Well then, if no one has anything else to add…

T : I got something to add.

RR: Wha_You got a song, Talon?

T : I just want to say that even when I was a kid, I always found Christmas music to be incredibly cheesy and annoying, especially when you're forced to hear it at work but…

MT : …But?

T : I do like one song. Well, it doesn't have any words but it does put me in a good mood when I hear it.

RR: *Gasp!* Tell us, tell us!

T : *Sighs*

E: Hey, that's the Charlie Brown music!

MT : That's a fantastic choice, Talon! Well, I think that'll about do it for us this year, folks. so from all of us at Ocean City, and soon to be England, we hope you have a happy and safe holiday! Take care out there and Happy New Year!

[writerfae]

Hi! Whitout spoiling too much, can you tell us about one or more moments in your story, where Aiden does something/ is being really cool? I just saw a book with an archer mc and it reminded me of him

Hi! Hmm, let’s see…

One pretty cool thing he did was shooting a forest demon right at the beginning of the story. It was running straight at him but he stood his ground and shot it right in the heart.

Halea thought that was pretty cool, especially because he did it with eyes closed (he had them closed mainly because he thought it wouldn’t work and he might die but shhh don’t tell her)

Other than that I can’t really say what cool stuff he’s done since I didn’t write the thing yet will I ever? and thus don’t have more things like that planned.

But! Aiden is a very skilled archer and does know some cool tricks that I might let him show off with during the story.

He can for example throw an apple high into the air and shoot it, or shoot one off a tree. He’s also very good at reading tracks.

Maybe he’ll get to learn some cool sword fight moves from Talon, too, who knows…

In one version of him meeting Henry again (that I most likely won’t use anymore) Aiden was very close to pull a cool move but Henry stole his show by shooting Aiden’s prey while sitting in a tree before he could. As older brothers do

[pangur-and-grim]

okay I’m sharing a sample chapter because I think it’s funny, if anyone is mean I will cry real human tears

Chapter 9

I decided to take seducing the mad sorcerer more seriously.

His odd acts of kindness, listening to me gab about my friendship troubles with Glenda, patching my wounds, the dragon scale, it added up. I mean sure, the guy turned me into a vulture, threatened to pull my teeth out, and implanted my chest with some sort of sick torture device…. but……. hmm, maybe this wasn’t a great idea.

Still, I wanted out of this vulture body. He could transmogrify me. All I needed was a path, connecting between those points, a way to ‘make it worth his while’, as it were.

“My lord,” I squawked over breakfast. The mad sorcerer was having thick-sliced bread with jam, and I was having a squirrel that had gotten trapped in the chimney and only just begun to rot. I’d flown it down to the kitchen to eat with the sorcerer, figuring a lonely guy like him would enjoy a social meal.

“My lord,” I repeated, swallowing the scrap of squirrel intestine that dangled from my beak. “I think you should turn me into a woman.”

The mad sorcerer choked on his bread.

After some spluttering and hacking of breadcrumbs, and indecision on my part as to whether I should be smacking his back with a wing, he recovered enough to answer. “Why in the world…...? Also, you are flinging rat…. particles everywhere, from this point onward you are forbidden from eating indoors. Effective immediately,” he added, as I raced to get in one last beakfull.

“It’s a squirrel, my lord.” I said, wiping my beak on the brick oven I perched on. “They have the fluffy tails, that’s how you can tell.”

“Stop that! Stop that!” The sorcerer rose to shoo me off the oven and, confused, I circled the room and landed on a chair.

“Anyway, so the transmogrification, my lord. I figure since the prophecy is clear about bodily sex, I can swap to the other one while still weaselling out of the whole thing. Pretty smart, right?” I finished wiping my beak on my own back feathers, and then raised a talon to scratch an itch beneath my chin.

“’Thick eyelashes for a boy’…. I suppose you’re right.” The sorcerer seemed deep in thought. “And you are rather disgusting as a vulture.”

“Well, no, I groom regularly my lord,” I protested, “Look, there’s this nipple-looking thing at the base of my tail, see? And I get oil from there and smear it all over the place. Keeps me shiny!”

“Stop flaring your feathers, I do not wish to see it. I will use the needle if I have to, obey my instructions.” The sorcerer kneaded his forehead with a hand, his toast lying forgotten on the table. A trio of the small humanoid kitchen constructs had descended on my squirrel, one carting it away and the other two working with brushes to scrub the scraps of red off the brickwork. I decided not to protest.

“I have given you free reign of this stronghold because, lacking opposable thumbs and any possible allies, the damage you could do is minimal. As a human, the situation changes.” The sorcerer had his forehead lined and serious, but the lack of a solid ‘no’ made me giddy. Time for a sales pitch!

“I could cook and clean! And decorate, my lord, this place is pretty drab. That’s not even getting into the other stuff I could do.” I cocked my head in what I hoped to be a significant manner, vultures not having any eyebrows to raise.

“The other stuff? No, no, no I see that look on your face, please don’t answer, I know exactly where this is going.” The sorcerer’s eye flashed, and another little construct emerged to carry away his toast. Disappointment struck – I’d been hoping the sorcerer would eventually exit the kitchen having forgotten it entirely, leaving the crisp bread available for plundering. But back to selling myself.

“No, see my lord, I reckon I could perform se-“

“Shut up, shut up, please stop talking. Alright, I will turn you into a human woman if you agree to one condition.” The mad sorcerer raised a single bony finger.

“Oh, my lord?” Joy and relief unfolded like a flower. “And what’s that?”

“Please stop trying to seduce me.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

R??e? ?e?u?

... Who is this?

***Artwork by tinyfantasminha!***

The stranger swiveled around in his chair, his sharp gaze immediately cutting to meet yours.

In that swift movement, you glimpsed many things. The glimmer of gold, a sweep of feathers, the luster of pearls, the flutter of cobalt ribbons. All elements familiar to your eyes, placed on a foreign body.

You got a good look at his face.

It was a young man you had never seen before, yet there was a part of you that swore that he looked strangely familiar.

Dignified and dainty, with features that were pointed. His eyes glimmered like fresh pools of starlight, and his mouth was full and inviting. It was the sort of face that writers spun stories and waxed poetic about, the beauty of still-water trapped in time and undisturbed.

Until now.

You broke the silence. “Have... Have we met somewhere before?”

Slight surprise before breaking into a smirk. It looked even more cruel thanks to that unexplained familiarity, his dream-like looks turning into something akin to the icy wisps of a nightmare.

“... Seriously? After all that shouting to get my attention, that’s the best pick-up line you’ve got? That’s the oldest one in the book. If you’re going to flirt, at least come up with something original.”

“Wh-What?!” You took a step back, appalled. The NERVE on this guy...!! “I have a right to know who you are!”

“That’s my line,” he retorted. “Who are you to barge in, unannounced, to my private quarters? This is the stuff of poorly written realistic fiction. There isn’t a thing ‘realistic’ about it!!”

“You’re lying. This place isn’t yours. I know the real person that really lives here. You’re... You’re breaking and entering!”

He scowled, crinkling his pretty face. “Look in the mirror. Who is the one trespassing here? I’ve never laid my eyes on you before—and I doubt the old man’s invited you.”

“Old man?” You stared at him. “You mean Crowley? I mean, he is old, but he’s still the headmaster! ... Even if he doesn’t do his job well!”

At the mention of Crowley, his eyes narrowed. He rose from his seat and sauntered toward you, hands placed on his slim waist. His nails were talon-like, and painted the color of tarnished antiques. They were the same color as the feather-shaped earring dangling from his right ear.

The stranger quietly observed you, a finger curled thoughtfully against his lower lip.

“Hmm.” He clicked his tongue, his half-lidded eyes flaring with interest. “So you are acquainted with him and his... quirks. It seems you’re no ordinary trespasser then.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along!!” you sputtered—turning to follow him as he slowly circled you. He was tall like a tree, limber and lithe like a leaf twirling in the breeze. “You’re the trespasser here, and I’m reporting you to the authorities!!”

“Impossible. One cannot trespass in their own abode.”

“Yours? This is Miss Raven’s...”

You took him in—all of him.

Hair as dark as the night itself, with pointed bangs that framed his regal face and pixie-like ears. Up close, you could see the black he had used to line his eyes, to dot along lower lash line, and the navy that faded across his lids.

Beribboned boots that led to a tapered waist and a broad chest, a cobalt vest and ruffled blouse that gave way to collarbone and a teasing peak of his pectorals. A trail of tulle and strings of pearls were bunched at his waist, secured with a ribbon, and a second ribbon criss-crossed up and ran the length of his left forearm. All of this, eclipsed by a cloak of feathers set on his shoulders.

Feathers...

A relative? But you were almost certain Raven had mentioned she had no family outside of Crowley.

He suddenly leaned in, bringing his face close to yours—and you lose your nerve, your voice trailing off into a pathetic squeak.

Your breath seized as his fanned over yours. The stranger, catching your flustered reaction, scoffed.

“... Staring is poor manners,” he chided, “though I shouldn’t expect any better of someone with your manners—or should I say, lack thereof? Well, I suppose if I want something to be done right, I’ll have to do it myself.”

He pulled back, and, grasping the ends of his feathered cloak, bent into a bow.

“You asked earlier who I was, yes? It should be obvious, since you were so obnoxiously calling for me like some scorned lover unable to handle a rejection. However, I consider myself a gentlebird, so I will do you this one favor.

“I am Raven Crowley. I would say it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, but... I think we’ve skipped well past the pleasantries at this point. Now then, tell me this: who are you?”

[beatricethecat2]

"No joy," Myka says, peeking into the static bag.

"That was the correct part, was it not?" Helena enlarges the photo on Myka's phone of a nineteenth-century elevator car housed at the Warehouse.

"I'm pretty sure. But that picture's not great." Myka slides the handle out and plops it back in to the tune of no sparks.

Helena noses around the storage space as The Dakota building's manager walks in.

"Maybe what you're looking for's in here," he says, plunking down a milk crate full of parts. "When they renovate, they save anything original."

"It's an elevator handle. From the original manual ones. Just not this one." Myka slips the part from the bag and holds it up.

"Might be in Ms. Shiva's apartment then. Parents took two cars and made them into a bar. Or could be from the one that went missing, the mysterious fourth car."

Myka and Helena share a concerned look, knowing the Warehouse took it without permission.

"Can we see the other two?" Myka asks.

"Look just like that one." The man points toward the ornately carved wooden car on the other side of the room. "Handle's that important to you, huh?"

"As architectural historians? Yes," Helena snips in a clipped, scholarly tone.

"Alright. Gimme a minute." He slips his phone out of its belt clip and walks out of the room.

Helena picks through dust-covered items in the crate. "This may be a lost cause."

"It must be upstairs. The walls are so thick, the ping could have come from anywhere."

"You said 'pickup,' not 'ping.'"

"Claudia called it a pickup yesterday! Today she called it a ping."

Helena huffs a disgruntled breath.

The manager waves a hand from the doorway. "She said it's ok to come up."

Myka follows the man, but Helena hangs back.

"Aren't you coming?" 

"I...should look through this crate."

"You know more about this stuff than me. You should come with."

"Myka, I...."

Myka steps closer and lowers her voice. "I know you're not happy about being here, but I really need your help."

Helena holds Myka's gaze but doesn't move.

"Please."

Helena nods an apprehensive yes.

"You'll tell me what's going on with you later, right?"

Helena nods again, with equal apprehension.

Myka grimaces. "Come on."

They follow the manager out of the room and into the elevator to the fourth floor.

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

The Adventures of Wells and Bering ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 3 Title: New York City: I'm buggin' out!

Summary: After three blissful days holed up in their Philadelphia hotel room, Myka receives a call from the Warehouse asking for help. Helena proclaims New York "a cesspool" when told the pickup is in the city. Myka laughs when told Helena was last there in 1893. Told she can stay behind, Helena follows anyway, the pair taking the train to avoid driving. Helena tells tales of city adventures with her partner Wolcott as she and Myka make their way uptown. Helena tenses upon arrival at their destination, so much so, Myka can tell something is off.  Later that day, Helena reveals a long buried secret.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2

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

***BONUS SCENES***

After a less than jovial dinner (pictured above), Myka and Helena settle into their hotel room. Myka lounges in bed, already showered, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, nose buried in a book. Helena searches through her luggage after emerging from a shower swathed only in a robe.

"I know dinner wasn't great," Myka says, setting her book on the nightstand, "but something else's off. You've been weirdly touchy all day."

"I apologize for not being, as Claudia might say, 'all sunshine and rainbows.'" Helena yanks a t-shirt out of her suitcase. "Perhaps we should call the whole thing off." 

"What 'thing'?"

"This trip."

"Why?" Myka sits up.

"Because me being sullen is not an anomaly." 

"I know."

"Then why on earth would you subject yourself to that again?" Helena turns to face Myka and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Because you promised when you got like this you'd talk to me and I believed you."

"Fool," Helena says, the word filled with fondness rather than bite.

"Come here," Myka says, patting a spot next to her.

Helena stares at the bed but doesn't move.

"Come here..."

Helena's eyes lift to meet Myka's; the longer they stay locked, the less defiance they hold. She huffs a disgruntled breath but does as she's told. She sits stiffly, arms folded over her chest, back propped up against the headboard.

"Now, tell me what happened in that building," Myka says, laying back, turning to face Helena, head propped up by a hand. "Remember, I said I wouldn't judge you."

"You say that now..." Helena says, glancing at Myka.

"I won't," Myka says, slipping her hand over Helena's and squeezing, dragging it down to her lap, breaking her protective arm-fold.

"Where to begin," Helena grumbles, pressing her eyes closed, head falling back against the wall.

"How about..." Myka scoots up, aligning herself with Helena, all the while keeping hold of her hand. "The first time you were there, finding that artifact."

Helena rolls her head to the side and meets Myka's gaze.

Myka raises her brow and grins expectantly.

"Oh, alright," Helena grumps, sighing deeply, then lifting her head from the headboard.

"Wolly posed as an investor, and I, his wife. He and I were given guest accommodations, courtesy of Gustav Schirmer, a music publisher. We had a vague idea of what the curiosity was but needed time and access to suss out its location."

"I bet you and Wolly made a better couple than Pete and I ever did," Myka quips.

Helena huffs a short laugh. "People like us 'acted the part' on a daily basis. Anything beyond that was an extension of those fabricated selves. One had to switch 'on' any number of personas just to keep safe. It was difficult at times to remember our true selves."

"I'm sorry. That sucks."

"Easier for me than others. Though in that regard, I'm glad society seems to have changed for the better." Helena meets Myka's gaze, her eyes falling to her lips.

"Me too," Myka says as Helena cups her jaw, guiding their mouths together.

Their kiss lingers but as Helena's hand slides to the nape of Myka's neck, Myka pulls away.

"Story first," Myka says, slipping her hand over Helena's, lifting it away.

Helena pouts.

"After." Myka caresses Helena's cheek, then places a soft, brief kiss there. "I promise."

"I shall hold you to that."

"Oh, I know," Myka says, smiling. She settles back and waits as Helena collects her thoughts.

"The Dakota was unique,' Helena begins, "its design, the first of its kind in the world. A playground for 'new money,' miles away from 'civilization' further downtown. Few dared travel that far north, so their soirees were rather insular."

"That's good, right? Easier to find the artifact?" Myka says.

"Indeed. Gustav adored hosting events, along with the Steinways. Guests chased tunes all over the building as engagements spilled between apartments. Wolly and I snooped around gratuitously."

"Steinways...as in the grand-piano-maker Steinways?"

"The very same," Helena mumbles. Her eyes turn distant, a thumb rubbing idly over a knuckle, her hands linked primly on her lap. 

"Did you find the artifact?" Myka asks.

"Hmm? Oh...yes. But it took quite some time," Helena answers. "And along the way, I found something far more profound." She looks down at her lap, her hands pulling away from each other, tensing. 

"What was it?"

"I found my One."

"Y-You had a One?" Myka says, stiffening.

"All too briefly," Helena says, then glances at Myka. "To have found another is a kindness beyond anything I'd ever imagined. I'm sorry it took so long for me to believe it possible."

"You mean me?"

"I do." Helena brings Myka's hand up to her lips and kisses its palm.

"I, um, guess it's silly to be jealous of someone who lived over a hundred years ago. Especially since I know nothing about them." Myka scoots closer, cozying up to Helena. "Will you tell me?"

"Would you like to know?"

"I want to know everything about you."

"That may take some time."

"We have time, don't we?"

"Time has never been my ally. Especially with the ones I love."

"Let's change that." Myka tugs on Helena's sleeve, and the pair slip down to lie prone on the bed. She turns and snuggles up, head pillowed on Helena's shoulder, arm resting across her middle. Helena relaxes into Myka's hold and wraps an arm over Myka's.

"Tell me about your One," Myka says. "Or, your 'first' One."

"She...was an extraordinary woman," Helena answers. "Unlike any I'd ever known. We bonded instantly, which was unusual."

"How did you meet?"

"I caught her hiding from the merriment during a soiree, nose tucked in a book. One Mrs. Elizabeth Westcott." Helena smiles, obviously warmed by the memory.

"Mrs.?"

"A marriage for appearances; personal gain for two up-and-coming families. Residing at The Dakota allowed her husband to carry on extramarital affairs with less scrutiny. He cared little about her own."

"So you and she..."

"If those walls could talk," Helena says, her smile bordering on devilish. "We had several glorious years together before she..." Her smile fades in an instant.

"I'm afraid to ask."

"She died, as one does when one's husband's mistress plots to kill you."

"S-She was murdered?"

"Freak carriage accident. Never proven, but everyone knew. To ensure Elizabeth never gave him an heir, after Christina. The irony being we'd planned on running away to California soon enough--"

"Wait, Christina was Elizabeth's?" Myka lifts her head to look Helena in the eye.

"I loved her as if she were my own," Helena snaps, "spirited her away to England as soon as I could, with the housekeeper's help."

"You stole her?" Myka pushes away, falling back on her elbows, mouth agape.

"I rescued her," Helena barks, jerking upright. "That monstrous woman still had talons in her father. There was no doubt Christina wasn't safe. It's what Elizabeth would have wanted." 

Helena moves to leave, but Myka grabs her arm.

"Don't go," Myka pleads. "I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't judge you."

Helena freezes in place, her heart pounding wildly. A few moments later, she returns to Myka's side.

"Did anyone come looking for her?" Myka asks, pushing forward so as not to leave Helena stewing.

"I don't know. I doubt they could find me as only Elizabeth knew my true identity. And I never set foot in New York again."

"So literally 1893."

Helena nods, the sour look on her face softening. "I'd thought to visit her grave but haven't found the courage."

"You should go. We could go together. It'll give you closure."

"You sound so certain."

"I know it will help. I've loved and lost, too, you know."

"Indeed, you have, my love," Helena says, then sighs heavy-heartedly. "What a pair we make."

"I think we're a good match," Myka says, tugging Helena back to lie flat again. "We could take our minds off it. Make some new, pleasant memories." She slips a hand under the tie of Helena's robe.

"You did make a promise earlier," Helena replies.

"And I always make good on my promises," Myka says, drawing the tie free, brushing a fingertip over newly exposed skin. Helena quivers and relaxes back, offering no resistance as Myka fulfills her word.

End of Episode 3

-TBC-

NOTES: According to the internet, the term "buggin'" was coined in New York City. The fourth elevator really did go missing during The Dakota renovations in the 1960's (pre-landmarking). Thank you to the library for being open so I could borrow books and down some facts as this got way more involved than I meant it to become (but that's part of the fun).

This story format is...in my head, I'm calling it "TV POV." If we were watching the show, we'd see things but not hear the character's thoughts, so that's what I'm going for, I think? Broad strokes and quicker resolutions due to the 45 minute-ish run time (or would this show be a 25 minute one? Hmm.) Let me know if that's not working at all. I mean these are obviously pastiches of content - the images come first then the stories materialize afterwards. They are supposed to be short and clippy - plenty of room for the reader to fill in the blanks - but this one got away from me! Also Tumblr keeps making the second image blurry and I can't figure out why...

[tchallasbabymama]

all of your love

Hey y’all! Here’s Chapter 4 of my Playlist series. Make sure you catch up on the series (and check out my other stuff) by checking out my masterlist HERE. 

Let me know what y’all think!

This one is nasty (18+ as always), enjoy!

Word count: 6,195

T’Challa woke up Tuesday morning eager as a kid on Christmas. Every second that went by brought him closer to Ashanti and he couldn’t wait any longer, his excited nerves building to critical mass within him. Natasha and Wanda had noticed his constant texting and smiling at his beads, and worked hard the entire time he was there to get the truth out of him about who he was talking to. They tried asking Okoye, but she was a steel trap so the two of them cornered him in the living room just before his departure. Their suspicions were confirmed when he proudly pulled up a picture of her to show them.

“Damn she fine, who is that?” Sam sauntered into the room as T’Challa quickly shut the projection down and cleared his throat.

“She is none of your concern.”

“His girlfriend,” Natasha said at the same time before smirking into her cup of coffee. T’Challa looked at her in disbelief and she shrugged back at him in response. “Oh please, he would’ve found out eventually.”

The king rolled his eyes and left the room in a huff to go pack his things.

“He’s so pissy today,” Natasha said, a smirk still firmly planted on her face.

“He misses her, it’s adorable,” Wanda responded.

“Shit, I would too. Y’all saw her.”

T’Challa swept back in the room, bags in hand, calling to Okoye on his beads.

“General, are you ready to go?”

“Ewe kumkani wam, be down in a moment.”

Cap rounded the corner and picked up on T’Challa’s anxious energy. He turned to look at the other faces and a smile crept up his before he turned to his friend.

“Ready to get back to Ashanti, huh?”

A chorus of “Ashanti?!” broke out.

“Why’d he get to know her name and we didn't?” Wanda asked incredulously.

“I was getting there but the bird interrupted,” T’Challa said with a shrug, referring to Sam who rolled his eyes and waved goodbye to the king before leaving the room. 

“Hey, uh, can I talk to you for a second before you go?”

“Of course Steve, what is it?”

The two of them ducked off into the hallway for privacy.

“How is he?” Steve asked of his friend.

“He is responding to treatment really well, you should come see him sometime. Shuri has removed most of the words, and living with the Border tribe seems to be good for his mental state.”

Steve smiled from ear to ear. Hearing about Bucky’s progress warmed his heart and he seriously considered hopping on the jet with T’Challa right then and there.

“How about next week sometime? I have some things I need to finish up here, but I’d love to come see him. And see Wakanda properly this time.”

The two heroes shook hands and returned to the living room. At that moment Vision floated up through the floor and Okoye rounded the corner.

“I will never get used to that.”

“My apologies, general.”

“Apology accepted. My king?”

“Yes, we should get going. I will see you all again, hopefully not too soon.”

They said their goodbyes as the two Wakandans made their way to the Royal Talon Fighter to head home. Once Okoye had them in the air, T’Challa retired to one of the jet’s two bedrooms to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt and take a nap on the plush Wakandan mattress he missed so much. He was out like a light.

“My king, we are home,” Okoye lightly shook T’Challa awake. He got up and changed back into his clothes before exiting the ship. The entire royal family was there to greet him, much to his surprise. He greeted his mother and sister before landing on his cousin. 

“Umzala, I thought you were heading to Oakland,” he said as they dapped each other up.

“I’m about to head out now, just figured I’d wait a few and say hey to my favorite cousin.”

“You said I was your favorite cousin!” Shuri butted in.

“Hush, Dr. Frankenstein,” N’Jadaka remarked back at her. Shuri was shocked, but her face quickly morphed into amusement as a laugh erupted from her lips.

“If I’m Dr Frankenstein you just called yourself the monster,” Shuri cackled as she walked away, most likely going back to her lab to tinker with the laws of physics or something simple like that. 

“Welcome home son,” Ramonda lightly pushed her nephew aside. “How are the Avengers?”

T’Challa rolled his eyes at their incompetence and inability to work as a fluid team.

“Inept, mama. The captain might be visiting soon though,” he said with an eyebrow raise, knowing his mother had a little crush on Captain America.

“Oh, will he? I’ll have to be sure to spend some one on one time with the captain while he’s here.”

“Ew, Auntie.”

“Mama, please stop.”

“What? I still got it!” Ramonda turned and walked back towards the palace.

The cousins just looked at eachother and shuddered before N’Jadaka took off in the same jet T’Challa just arrived on. 

The next morning, T’Challa woke up later than most days. When he returns from a mission he likes to keep his workload light the following day, so he caught up on more of the sleep he had been missing out on. The very first thing he did after waking up was send Ashanti a “good morning beautiful” text, and before his feet even hit the floor she had responded.

Ashanti: Good morning handsome. How did you sleep?

T: Much better in my own bed, but still not as good as when you were in my arms.

A: Don’t make me blush.

T: But it’s so cute when you do.

T’Challa dragged himself out of bed and straight to his shower, turning on the hot water and turning his jungle bathroom into a sauna. 

“Kim, shuffle between my recently played songs.” He called out to the AI housed in his beads and around his quarters.

“Now playing ‘all of your love’ by Luke James,” the smooth automated voice rang out. A smile spread across his face as he remembered his picnic with Ashanti by the lake. They tapped beads and made a joint playlist, this album being one of Ashanti’s favorites. He had listened to it multiple times while he was away, missing her with every note.

You got the kinda loving 

That'll break a motherfucker's knees, baby

Got me begging, got me craving

I just wanna get a squeeze, baby

Don't leave me 'lone

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone right here

I want it all

Want it all, want it all

Want it all, want it all, my dear

All of your love

(Give it all to me baby, yeah)

All of your love, yeah

(It's for me it's for you, baby)

All of your love

(I need it)

Give me all of your love (ooh)

He stepped under the faux rainfall and let it wash over his body, lathering up with some mango scented black soap. After his perfectly sculpted body was clean he turned off the water and air dried while covering his smooth brown skin in cocoa butter.

The king was looking forward to his day for two reasons: he would get to spend time with his little sister during the day and then Ashanti at night. For his first major stop of the day, he and Shuri went to the mines to check on the progress of the latest excavation efforts. The mining tribe elder K’Hari was intent on setting T’Challa up with his daughter Tamala, so they quickly made their escape to Shuri’s lab where they spent the rest of the day playfully bickering over who makes better gadgets while testing out some of Shuri’s latest inventions. T’Challa knew he would not win the argument, but enjoyed annoying his little sister. 

Around lunchtime T’Challa made his way back to the palace to eat with Ramonda in her garden. She wasted no time cutting to the chase.

“So this Ashanti, you have feelings for her?”

T’Challa nearly choked on his water, not expecting to cross into that territory so soon. 

“Uh, yes, umama, I do. It is still early though, the other night was only our first da-” he stopped when he saw the incredulous look on her face. She sucked her teeth at him.

“You brought a girl to the palace after one date? Do you make a habit of this?”

“No mama, I promise. The last time was when you caught me a few years back. With Ashanti it just...felt right.”

“Hmm...Lets hope it is. Bringing girls in the palace you barely know, I may not have been there your whole life, but I definitely raised you better than that...I can see she is different though, not like the riff raff you usually sniff around. That last girl you dated was horrid-”

T’Challa listened as Ramonda read his love life for filth, and all he could do was sit there.

“-skirts up to her ass, heels way too high for the setting. Thank Bast you’ve found someone good. Good for you, and good for Wakanda.”

“Woah, mama, we have only had one date and you are talking about Wakanda already? I do not even know if she would want to be queen one day.”

“No, but you want her to. I can see it in your eyes when you look at her. Yes, it’s early but you’re in love, unyana wam. The other day, watching the two of you, I could see how...easy you were with each other. I miss that easiness I had with your father…” T’Challa grabbed her hand as her eyes got misty. Ramonda blinked the tears away and turned the conversation back to T’Challa and Ashanti. “Everyone can see it, and I bet she’s walking around just as googly-eyed as you are.”

______

Ashanti and Kwame walked through the market arm-in-arm, picking up ingredients as they went.

“So tell me about this mining tribe hottie,” Ashanti spoke after a comfortable silence.

“Sis, I have one word for you: biceps. He could benchpress me and I just- woo that’s hot as fuck.” Kwame said, picking up a fan from a vendor and fanning himself dramatically before paying the old lady who ran the store.

“You really just bought a fan to be dramatic?”

“It’s practical and a prop!”

The two roommates broke out into giggles.

“Anyways, his name is Omar. Here’s his picture, isn't he cute? Ugh those dimples, I could swim in them.”

Ashanti flipped through a couple pictures of the two of them before Kwame shut the hologram down.

“You’re scrolling too much, you might see things you can't unsee.”

“Good looking out, friend.”

“So what are you serving kumkani other than that pussy?” Kwame asked loudly.

“Will you keep your voice down?! I’m not trying to announce this to the world.” Ashanti whisper-yelled at him before he threw his hands up in surrender. 

“My bad, my bad. Hey did you close the shop today or did you finally hire someone?”

“No, not yet. I haven’t even really been looking, I should get on that. But, uh, yeah I closed early. I'm there 7 days a week, the people can handle me being out for a few hours,” Ashanti said, Kwame nodding along in agreement. “Hey, want to stop by my parents’ place for lunch?”

“Girl when have I ever said no to food?” Kwame responded with excitement. He never said no to food. 

“Should we bring something back for B?”

“No she’s probably going to stay a couple nights with Kiki. You know, so they can ‘catch up’ or whatever. Honestly, its like she forgets i can see right through her.” Kwame rolled his eyes.

“Even I can see they have feelings for eachother-”

“Girl blind people see they have feelings for each other. It’s her first experience with a girl so I don’t want to push her but damnit just do gay shit already sis!” 

They arrived at Zana Cafe right as Ashanti’s riotous laughter subsided. 

“Hey babygirl, hey Kwame! Where’s my other daughter?” Chidi asked, hugging them both.

The three of them sat at a table near the kitchen and away from the hustle and bustle.

“She’s out ignoring her feelings for Kiki.”

“Kiki Odunsi? She’s a nice girl, Binta has good taste.”

“That’s what I said, Baba, but she’s just too nervous to act on it. Yet she pushes me into the king’s arms-”

“I’m sure I don't want to hear the rest of that statement, but your mom will be back soon and I’m sure she’d love to hear all about it. You kids want some food? We got some curry that just finished, you have perfect timing.”

“We felt it in our souls,” Kwame half-joked. Chidi disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with their food, letting them dig in while he ran the restaurant. 

About halfway through lunch Kwame got a message from Omar that made his entire face turn red as his lip disappeared under his top teeth.

“Go ahead,” Ashanti said, already knowing the content of the message without having to see it. He either sent a nasty picture or a dirty text, and either way she knew the second Kwame saw it he was mentally already sucking Omar’s dick. 

He got up, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and waving goodbye to Chidi as he all but ran to his dick appointment.

“Well he sure got out of here in a hurry,” Chidi came over and sat across from his daughter. 

“A boy texted him.”

“Should’ve known,” he said before clearing his throat. “So, the king...how is that going?”

“You actually want to talk about it?”

“Of course, you’re my daughter. It’s just hard to see you as an adult sometimes, but I’m getting better at it.”

“Well he and I really connect on a lot of levels. He’s so smart, and sweet, and considerate and I know we only had that one date but I feel like I’ve known him for years. We have another date tonight, I’m making him mama’s pirri pirri chicken.”

Chidi sat back in amazement. Here was his little girl...in love...with the king of Wakanda. 

“You know, that’s what your mother made the first time she cooked for me.”

“It is?!”

“Mhm, that’s how she hooked me. Been trapped ever since.”

Ashanti playfully hit her father’s arm and thought about her meal plan for later.

“Well, Baba, I have to go prep for tonight. Give Mama my love when she gets back.” Ashanti kissed her father on the cheek and headed back to her empty home.

______

Her “Sacral Chakra” playlist blasted through the house as she danced in her underwear to Missy Elliott’s “Throw it Back” while stirring the rice one last time. Everything was ready, and she still had plenty of time before he was supposed to show up. She put the oven on “warm” and stuffed the dishes inside before removing the rice from the heat and trotting upstairs to get herself ready for the life changing dick-down she was surely about to receive.

She changed the music to fit the mood she wanted to set, switching to her “Sexy” playlist and swooning at the sound of one of her favorite songs tickling her ears. 

Like a flame to a moth 

I'm addicted to your sauce, so bad

I want it 24/7, 365, 911

I need it fast

Don't leave me 'lone (so)

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone (so fast)

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone right here

(911 terrible baby, yeah)

I want it all

Want it all, want it all

Want it all, want it all, my dear

All of your love

(Give it all to me, baby)

All of your love, yes

(It's for me it's for you, baby)

All of your love

('Cause I need it)

Give me all of your love (ooh)

Luke’s voice carried her as she took a dip in the tub with a colorful jasmine and ylang ylang bath bomb before moisturizing with rose-infused shea butter. Her skin smelled like a forbidden garden, just the way she liked it. Then she trimmed her pubic hair, cleaning up her bikini line and giving him a clear, well-groomed path to her treasure trove. Finally, she painted her nails and toes white to stand out against her skin and avoid clashing with her colorful, off the shoulder, bodycon ankara dress. Ashanti chose to keep her braids down and makeup light again, knowing all that extra makeup would get ruined anyway. For a final touch she slid on her strappy gold stilettos, knowing just how much he loved them from their kimoyo chats. 

The doorbell rang and Ashanti took a deep breath before straightening her dress and heading to the door. When she opened it both of their jaws dropped. There he was in an all-black suit with a black shirt underneath, a purple pocket square, and that damn hoop in his ear. He looked like the black panther he was and Ashanti wanted nothing more than to be his prey.

His eyes roamed her body and landed back on her face before he stepped over the threshold and pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues danced alongside each other as both of their hands reacquainted themselves with the other’s body. T’Challa’s hand steadily sliding down her backside brought her out of her daze and she broke the kiss. He frowned as though she had taken away his favorite toy.

“Dinner, your highness.” She said before giving him one last peck and escaping to the kitchen with him on her heels. As she tried to maneuver around the kitchen, T’Challa refused to let go of her waist, whispering sweet nothings in her ear every few seconds about how much he missed her.

“T’Challa, go sit down, I’ll bring you your food,” She giggled as he kissed her cheek repeatedly. “Go!”

He let her go with a slap on the ass and sat down at the table, watching her float around the kitchen. After a couple minutes, Ashanti set two plates full of delicious looking food down on the table. She cracked open a bottle of palm wine and poured them both a generous amount. 

“Are you trying to get me drunk Miss Mostafa?”

“Maybe. Cheers.” Their glasses clinked together and they both took a sip without breaking eye contact.

“Tell me what you think,” Ashanti pointed at his plate to get him to focus. The king took one bite and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“You made this?!”

“Ha ha, T’Challa. Yes, I made this. It’s my umama’s recipe though. And make sure you save room for dessert” she said while digging into her food. 

“My compliments to the chef,” he said as he seductively brought his lips around his forkful of food, still staring into her soul.

The two of them caught up on their time apart, what little they didn’t already discuss in their kimoyo chats. T’Challa regaled her with stories of his work with the Avengers, and he watched her in admiration as she spoke about the happenings at Taj’s.

“Ready for our next course?” Ashanti asked the king.

“I am.”

Ashanti scooped the warm mango cobbler into two bowls and topped each one with ice cream. She set T’Challa’s bowl down in front of him and went to take her seat when his hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her back towards him. 

“Sit on my lap,” he said in a low grumble.

Ashanti’s feet carried her back to the king and she turned to sit across his lap.

“Not like that, face me.”

“My dress-”

“I don’t care.”

A chill went down her spine as she hiked her dress up over her thick thighs and straddled him. He reached for his bowl and scooped up some cobbler and ice cream, bringing it to her lips.

“Open.”

Her lips parted and she tasted her sugary concoction, happy it turned out how she wanted it to.

“Is it good?”

“Yes.”

“Is it sweet?” He asked, nuzzling into her neck and inhaling her scent.

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Feed it to me.”

They took turns feeding eachother the cobbler, licking the melted ice cream from each other's lips. With each bite, the king’s hand travelled further and further up Ashanti’s thigh, gripping her tight and causing her to let out the tiniest whimpers. 

He could smell her arousal and it drove him crazy. When his hands travelled up to her hips and felt no underwear she looked at him and winked, flipping the switch within him. His eyes turned almost completely black as his fingers trailed across her body directly to her clit. Ashanti jumped, but his other arm held her down. His fingers circled her clit, making more wetness drip out of her. She suckled on his bottom lip and moved her hips to get him to stop teasing her, but he wasn’t a fan of her defiance.

“Did I say move?”

His voice sent a chill down Ashanti’s spine and straight to her pussy. Another rush of liquid escaped her and T’Challa chuckled darkly.

“You like when I tell you what to do, don't you?” He asked, one hand still teasing her clit while the other gripped her jaw forcing her to look into his eyes. She nodded desperately and he laughed in her face. “I know you do, kitten. You know what I want you to do for me?”

She struggled to compose herself, his teasing becoming too much for her to handle.

“What? I’ll do anything”

“I know you will. Cum on my fingers when I fucking say so, do you understand me?” She nodded as his fingers moved down to her now dripping hole, three of them opening her up and sliding in deep while the heel of his hand pushed into her clit. He slapped her ass with his free hand. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes.”

He curled his fingers inside her, alternating between quick and slow thrusts, all while dragging the pads of his fingers across her g-spot. More wetness pooled between her legs as he dug in her, causing her to grind into his hand for even more friction.

“There you go, nasty girl. Work for it, mhm…” He licked from her collarbone to her ear before nibbling on her lobe, making her release a moan from deep within her core. “You sound so beautiful, I’m going to make you sound like this all night. Are you ready for me?”

She held on tight to his shoulders and rocked into him more, the tension building in her body.

“Yes, kumkani.”

He growled and pulled his fingers from her, placing his hands under her thighs and picking her up while she whined at the empty feeling.

“Where’s your room?” He spoke into her ear as she wound her hips against his and sucked on his neck. She pointed up the stairs, but her lack of communication frustrated him more. He needed to be inside her now.

He backed her into an empty wall and pushed his pelvis into hers. Her eyes rolled back at the feel of his third leg against her pussy.

“You want it?” He teased. She nodded vigorously as he unzipped his pants and pushed them to his feet. “Do something about it.”

She reached between them and almost cried at the feeling of his hot, pulsating dick in her hands. She couldn’t close her small hands around it, and she wondered briefly about how it would fit in her mouth. She felt the throbbing veins up and down his shaft and his length would surely fill her to the brim. She swiped her thumb over the precum oozing out the head of his dick and brought it to her lips to taste. The sweet saltiness of him set her off, and she lifted her body up before sliding down on his length.

She was too eager to be bothered by the stretch of her pussy, just wanting him inside her.

He moaned into her ear and gripped her ass tight as she enveloped him in her warmth. He wanted to keep his composure, but it slipped more with every bounce of her juicy ass onto his pelvis. The thickness of his dick pulling her clit combined with the edging from earlier had her on the verge of an orgasm already.

 After letting her get used to his size, the king decided to stop playing nice and pushed her back into the wall, staring deep into her eyes as he thrust into her body. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she held on for dear life as he busted her wide open.

“Oooh, T’Challa!”

“Hm? You like when I do that? What about this?” He lifted her and brought her down onto him, the force causing her to yell out his name between thrusts.

“T-Chal-la, oh-my-Bast-it-feels-so-good. Mmm I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” She barely rushed out before her muscles tightened and released around him, both of them moaning out in pleasure. He continued to hold her while they stared into each other’s eyes forehead to forehead, breathing heavily, until she broke the silence.

“Can I taste you?” she whispered and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He placed her down and she immediately sank to her knees, licking her essence off of his dick.

His hand went to the back of her head as she sucked the tip and rotated her two hands along his shaft. After a few moments she grew brave and pushed him further into her throat, making his toes curl. She was down to one hand and decided to go even deeper. Resting her jaw, she brought her free hand to stroke his shaft while alternating between licking his balls and softly bringing them into her mouth. Her lips made their way back to his pulsating dick, his chorus of “fuck yes, just like that” and “suck that dick” lost on her ears while she focused all her will power on swallowing the monster before her. Her mouth slowly crept over his tip and down his shaft as far down as she went before. She swallowed and took him in deeper, nose almost touching his pubic hair.

“Fuck!”

He wasn’t expecting that and came down her throat. She gladly swallowed every drop.

“Good girl, make sure you clean your plate for your king.” He pulled her up by her jaw and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth to taste himself on her. He slapped both her ass cheeks.

“Get in that bedroom.”

She grabbed his hand and led him to her room, her dress at her waist and those damn heels on her feet. Ashanti had a feeling those would be staying on most of the night. 

When she opened her door, he only looked around briefly before grabbing her by her throat and licking her neck. Her pussy throbbed once more.

“Why do you like when I’m rough with you?” He growled in her ear as he unzipped her dress. “Answer me.”

“My king, I-I don’t know but it turns me on.”

“You don’t know, huh? That’s not a good enough answer. Bend over, grab your ankles. Let’s see if you can figure it out” His hand pushed on her back, making her bend at the waist before he slammed into her, taking everything she had to give. His hips slowed down and stirred inside her, making her release a long, deep moan each time he pushed deeper.

Tears came to her eyes from how he was hitting it. She had never felt anything so deep or so thick inside her, and the way he was moving made her cry out to the heavens.

“Bast!”

“She’s not here love, you’re at my mercy,” He chuckled and grabbed her neck, pulling her up to whisper in her ear as his hips sped back up and she grabbed onto the back of his head for stability. His left hand had a tight grip on her hip, but his right hand came up to tweak her nipples as he slowed his strokes back down, circling his hips. 

“Yes, kumkani” she moaned out on repeat like a broken record. He had hit that spot in her that shut her brain down, making her putty in his hands.

“I’m going to ask you again sithandwa, why do you like it when I’m rough with you? Hmm? I know it’s hard to think right now, but try for your kumkani. We talked about it before. Why do you want me to treat you this way?”

“B-because I’m my kumkani’s little slut.”

He smiled as wide as the cheshire cat and stilled inside her, another deep chuckle rumbling from his chest.

“That’s my good girl, my little slut. You like being kumkani’s little slut?”

“Mmm, yes. Please, make me your slut kumkani. I’ll be good.”

He pulled out and slapped her ass.

“Prove it. Good girls ride dick.” He laid back on the bed, hands behind his head as he watched her stand over him and squat onto his throbbing member. He moaned as she dropped her weight on him and picked it back up repeatedly, tightening her kegel muscles on the way back up each time. She eventually dropped down to her knees to give her thighs a break and leaned back towards his legs, giving him a full view of her body as he watched himself go in and out of her.

“Shit, Ashanti.”

She slowed down and sat up, circling her hips and gripping him tight before leaning over and letting him suck on her nipples. She let him have his fill then whispered in his ear, “Am I a good girl yet?”

His mouth left her breasts and he pulled her into a deep kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance with his eventually winning again. He pulled back to take in her beautiful face that was twisted in pleasure, his black eyes staring deep into her brown ones.

“The best.”

The king wrapped his arms around Ashanti’s waist and spread his legs before thrusting up into her, catching her off guard. Her body succumbed to his and another wave of intense pleasure washed over her as she came once more. He fucked her all the way through her orgasm, refusing to let up.

“Do you have one more in you kitten? Can you be a good girl and cum again for your kumkani?”

“T’Challa, I-”

“Who?!” he hooked his arms under her knees and flipped them over, driving his big dick deep into her guts with a roll of his hips.

Tears came to her eyes and he wiped them away, pausing his movements. “Are you ok, love? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I...it just feels so good. You feel so good inside me, baby.”

“Do I?” he teased as he thrust impossibly deeper inside her, watching as the tears sprang from her eyes, kissing them away.

“Yessss,” she hissed as their foreheads came together so they could stare deep into each other’s souls as their climaxes approached. 

He pushed her legs back further and she felt him drop all his weight into her pussy over and over and over and she left her body, tears running from her eyes and juices seeping from her pussy. Her head rolled back and a faint smile appeared on her face as he fucked her stupid. Her nails dug into his back as his hips continued to thrust into her from above and he left his signature on her neck. He felt her body tensing up again and  he decided to stop delaying his release before he killed the poor girl. 

“Kitten.” He said to her in a soft, sweet voice, slowing down his strokes and just grinding in her deep. She struggled to focus on him but when their eyes met, he leaned in for a soft kiss. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. You take me so well baby, it’s like your pussy was made for me. You said I could cum inside you, will you still let your kumkani cum deep inside that pussy?” They had already discussed this, knowing it would come up at some point. Luckily they both had their STI prevention shots and  they were both on birth control, so since they shared the same kink they decided to go for it.

“Yesss, please kumkani. Cum inside me,” Ashanti said as she locked her legs around his waist.

The king’s thrusts picked up the pace, elevating them both to their highs. The tension rose in their bodies, Ashanti scrambling to hold him closer, and T’Challa struggling to contain his strength so as not to cause real damage. When the dams broke, their bodies shook violently and he filled her up while she spilled all over him. He slowly thrusted into her as his dick continued to pump her pussy full of him. His thrusts slowed to a stop as she came down from her climax. He leaned back and opened his mouth and let a glob of spit fall onto her clit before lightly rubbing it in with his thumb.

“T’Challaaaaa!” she whined, feeling overwhelmed. He smirked and stopped, leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead then her nose, then her lips. 

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” he said as he continued to lightly kiss around her face and neck. Her legs still hadn't let him go, so his hips churned inside her very slowly, grinding just enough to keep her turned on but not enough to over stimulate her. “You just can’t let me go, huh?”

“Uh-uh,” she pulled him to her soft lips, only allowing them to slightly graze each other. “You feel too good.” She whined.

“Oh I do? You love when I’m deep in that pussy, don't you? You want me in there all the time? Want me to slut you out whenever I fucking feel like it?”

“Mmmm, yes kumkani.”

“Good girl. Now let me go baby, I’m not done with you.”

“T’Cha-” She was cut off by a deadly glare. “Kumkani, my pussy is tired.”

“I know kitten, this will help her feel better.”

Ashanti slowly unraveled her legs and moaned as his dick slowly left her, pulling on her clit and her g-spot on the way out. The emptiness she felt was soon replaced by the feeling of his copious amounts of cum dripping from her hole. 

T’Challa moaned at the sight then leaned in for a taste, causing Ashanti to gasp unexpectedly. His tongue moved up and down her pussy, collecting his cum and spreading it all over. He sucked on her clit and his fingers slowly found their way inside her to rub on her spot before his finger and tongue switched. He tongue fucked her walls while his thumb strummed her clit lazily, her legs twitching on every upstroke . His moans of pleasure pushed her further to her climax and when he started slurping his cum out of her pussy she lost it, body convulsing and cumming all over his chin. He slurped up their combined fluids and brought his lips to hers, transferring their cum to her mouth for her to taste. She swallowed and stared into his eyes, bottom lip between her teeth. He rolled over beside her and they faced each other. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You already won't be walking tomorrow, but I can make it a week,” T’Challa warned and the two broke out into laughter.

“Wow, just...that was...wow,” Ashanti said, still processing what just happened.

“Is something wrong? Was I too rou-” Ashanti shut him up with a kiss.

“It was amazing. And oh my Bast, you are nasty as fuck.”

T’Challa chuckled, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, dear.”

Ashanti stilled then looked up at him in fear and arousal, both of which were made worse by the bloodthirsty look on his face. 

“What else are you into?”

The two lovers laid there and talked for hours, only pausing for a brief moment while Ashanti went to the bathroom. They talked about their kinks and exploring more together. They spoke about their futures, their bucket lists, their families, and more. The conversation veered from comical to serious to heart wrenching to seductive all within the span of a few hours.

They eventually fell asleep with T’Challa’s strong arms wrapped around Ashanti’s waist, just like the last time they slept in each other’s arms and hopefully just like all the times they’ll lay together in the future. 

Our love

Your love

On me

Our love

My love

In you

Our love

Your love

On me

Our love

My love

Ooh!

(Did you ever think that, maybe

Maybe it's destiny?

Maybe it's destiny that brought us together)

Next Chapter

[glacecakes]

Slowly Led up From the Deep

Despite what anyone else (Lance) said, Eugene wasn’t a mother hen. He wasn’t! There was a distinct difference between being cautious and prepared for the worst due to living on the streets, and mother henning the shit out of everyone.

(“You mother hen the shit out of everyone,” Lance would say. “And I’m a dad. With the same past as you.”)

Case in point: Varian.

(Or: the Baron tries to kidnap Varian to get back at Eugene.)

Weeee another project! This one is a lil different tho Basically I have ideas for four (maybe more? Debating whether or not to expand to 7) angst oneshots with each oneshot pertaining to an element. So this is water, I have a plan for earth, air, fire if I decide to go thru with this. Poor Varian, sorry not sorry

Despite what anyone else (Lance) said, Eugene wasn’t a mother hen. He wasn’t! There was a distinct difference between being cautious and prepared for the worst due to living on the streets , and mother henning the shit out of everyone.

(“You mother hen the shit out of everyone,” Lance would say. “And I’m a dad. With the same past as you.”)

Case in point: Varian. Following the events of… well, yknow, life , Eugene was a bit nervous about letting the kid out of his sight. After all, he got kidnapped, drugged, assaulted, imprisoned, and flung out a tower. And that was all in one day! So excuse him for being concerned about his friend's health. The guy had a death wish, and clearly someone had to watch over him or else he would die from falling, or forgetting to sleep, or setting himself on fire, and then Eugene would have a very angry beef-tittied man at his throat.

Since his redemption, Varian had quickly weaseled his way into the man’s heart, not unlike how Rapunzel did. He’d always wanted a younger sibling as a kid, and Varian fit the bill. His tiny frame and nervous demeanor made him a prime target for Eugene to try and instill life lessons into, no matter how much Varian protested. So long as he worked in the castle, Eugene saw to it that the kid got three square meals a day.

And when he’d failed to keep Varian safe...

Being trapped in unbreakable rock, helpless while Varian slid across the floor, the fading screams as he plummeted to what should’ve been his death…

Let’s just say Eugene has bolted awake to those sounds more than once.

And now he was Captain of the Guard, on top of being a big brother. Which meant that he had to oversee the Royal Alchemist’s (aka Varian’s) more… delicate experiments.

As of this moment, Varian was mixing a glowing red liquid, goggles pulled over his face. Eugene had tried to peer over his shoulder and watch, but the younger pushed him away, grumbling something about not spilling it all over.

Gloved hands wrapped around a pipette as he worked, mumbling scientific jargon under his breath. Rapunzel was able to follow along a lot better than he was, which meant Eugene had no clue what was going on.

“Hello, Allo, Varian?” He waved a hand in his face, startling Varian and nearly causing the liquid to slosh out its beaker. “Hi. Yea, I’m still here and I would like to know what’s going on.” He gave the kid an unimpressed eyebrow raise when he turned, sheepish. Clearly Varian forgot about his “lab partner”.

“Right, sorry.” Varian coughed, setting aside the pipette to hold up his substance. “So, the thing with the water tanks is that… they’re really hard to work on once they’re up and running. Right? You can’t exactly go into the tankers,” he snorted. “I mean, you could, but you’d boil alive.” His brows furrowed and he brought a free hand to his chin, deep in thought. “Actually, I don’t know what would happen… maybe…” His brain was off to the races, already miles away from the current conversation.

“Varian,” Eugene snapped, crossing his arms in frustration. Not that he didn’t want to be here, but he really didn’t want to hear about Varian’s new plan to throw someone into a vat of flynnolium to see if they’d survive. “Royal Engineer, more like Mad scientist.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Varian said, turning back to his lab table with a grin. “Aaaanyway, this stuff should, if my calculations are correct, and they are,” He added, knowing Eugene had already opened his mouth. “This stuff should dissolve stuff like rust, but only when exposed to water. So basically we’d just throw a vial of this into the tankers, wait a few minutes, and drain it. Then, tada! Sparkling clean tanks, good as new.” His voice floated with each step, bouncing around his workspace with eagerness and joy. Varian hummed under his breath, grabbing a pitcher and filling a small cup with water. Water from the nearly full pitcher sloshed around, nearly spilling onto the table as he sang along to the song in his head.

“Hey, kid, isn’t that the jug you use for drinking?” Eugene asked, walking over.

“Hmm?” Varian glanced back, not really caring, too in the zone. “So it is.”

“And it’s full, even though I gave it to you this morning?”

“Yeah?”

“Which would mean…” He circles his wrist, expectant gaze meeting Varian’s confused. The boy lifted up his goggles to reveal eyes bluer than any sky. “...That you haven’t had anything to drink?”

“I had some juice at lunch.” Varian said.

“That’s not the same.” Eugene responded.

Varian shot him an annoyed gaze. “Seriously? We’re doing this now?” He asked, a hand moving to lean on his desk. He missed, sending him stumbling, but he kept his gaze trained on Eugene.

Eugene simply hummed, walking over and plucking the red vial from it’s test tube. He placed it in his coat pocket. “Yea, we’re doing this now. No experimenting on that glass, you are to drink it right now.”

“What?” Varian’s face turned slightly green. “This thing hasn’t been properly washed in who knows when! I use it as my paint cup!” He gestured to the wall, covered in notes, writings, and the odd Rapunzel doodle. The one Varian was pointing to was a doodle of his pouty face, perfectly matching his current expression.

Eugene didn’t miss a beat. “Fine. Drink from the pitcher.”

“No!”

“Right now, chug it! Come on, you won’t do it, pussy.”

“I’m not going to chug it,” the alchemist pinched the bridge of his nose. “And didn’t Rapunzel tell you to stop calling people that?”

“No experimenting until you drink it. Captain’s orders.” Varian threw his arms up in frustration. “Why are you so against drinking right now? Come on, I know you’re thirsty!”

“I need the water for the experiment! If I drink it, I’ll have to get a refill!” Getting a refill meant going upstairs, disrupting his thought process and ruining the zone he had been in all day. It was hard to get into that state of absolute concentration, and leaving the lab would surely cause his bubble of productivity to pop.

“Oh no, a refill! The absolute horror!” Eugene fake gasped. The younger’s face burned red as his older friend draped his hand over his forehead in mock distress. “Whatever shall you do, cursed to go get some fresh air by… going upstairs!?”

Varian growled. He wasn’t going to win this argument, they’d had it often enough. But between his excitement over his invention, and Eugene’s teasing, and pulling rank… his ears burned as he took a long swig from the pitcher. He’d be dead before he told Eugene how soothing the cool water felt on his throat, how it spurred him to gulp down half of the pitcher in one go. “There.” He bit out, eyes narrow as daggers. “Are you happy?”

Eugene’s eyes, which had closed in his mock despair, opened to see the teen’s melancholy. Honestly, he was so moody over drinking water , it was ridiculous! All he was doing was making sure the kid didn’t die, oh how wicked of him.

“Yes, quite!” He grinned. “See, wasn’t that hard! I swear, you give me more grey hairs every day. How your dad kept you alive, I’ll never know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Varian asked, eyebrows raised in offense. Did Eugene not think he could handle himself?

“Well, y’know, the guy always ignored you for hours on end, the fact that you didn’t die of dehydration or starvation is a miracle,” Eugene snorted.

The atmosphere grew tense in a heartbeat. Varian froze where he stood, fingers outstretched towards the cup quickly retracting. "What did you just say?" Varian hissed, eyes narrowing as he turned.

“Just that your dad wasn’t there for you like I am.” Eugene couldn't stop the words that escaped his throat. Jealousy clawed at his mind, sinking sharp talons and cutting his common sense to ribbons. He’d been looking after Varian during his stays at the castle, both before and after he’d become Royal Engineer, and yet he was the bad guy here? He was the one who risked falling off a tower to crawl out to Varian while his dad, who was well versed in the moonstone, had decided he’d rather play with his pumpkins then get involved, despite his son being asked to translate a death spell.

“You did not just say that,” Varian growled, trying to keep himself in check. He hated getting mad, especially at his friends, seeing as he didn’t exactly have a good track record with it. “You did not just suggest that you’re better than my dad.”

“Hey, all I’m saying is that he literally let you cause earthquakes with no supervision when you were fourteen and then got mad when it didn’t exactly turn out great.”

“At least my dad didn’t abandon me for three months.”

“At least I came to save you when Cass kidnapped you.”

Varian slammed his fists on the table. “Did you even tell him about that? Or did he not know I was missing, just assumed you were taking care of me until I came home with broken ribs!?” The alchemist whirled around, marching up and planting a finger on Eugene’s chest. “He thought you guys were keeping me safe, but no ! So what, now you’re trying to make up for it by breathing down my neck? I’m not a little kid, Eugene! It’s one thing to look out for me, but a whole other to smother me and insult my dad!”

The man huffed. “I’m not smothering you, I’m concerned for you! What reasonable parent is ok with their kid forgetting to eat or drink?”

"Well I’m sorry he trusts me to! You’re just a control freak who can’t accept that not everyone needs his input! You don’t trust my judgement at all!"  The anger in Varian's eyes... Eugene hadn't seen it since the battle of Old Corona. He couldn’t stop himself from what came next; it was like a reflex, some leftover anger from before.

"WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU!?" Eugene screamed, before quickly covering his mouth in horror.

Varian's eyes widened, filling with tears. Then he carefully schooled his face back to impassive and cold.

Eugene faltered, guilt boiling red hot in his stomach. He really messed up, didn't he? It wasn't that he didn't trust Varian, far from it. From his sassy remarks to dorky antics, and the way he was so passionate about everything, it was clear that Varian put his heart and soul into everything he did, and he only shared that with the people he trusted. Eugene was honored to be one of those people. Now, he might have just lost that.

He trusted Varian with his life. But Varian's life? He couldn't trust anyone with that. It was too precious to him. He'd failed to protect Varian so many times, he just wanted to do it right from now on.

Eugene tried to reach out. "Kid, I didn't mean it like that," he began, but Varian ignored him. Instead, he shouldered past, marching up the stairs towards the main castle, pitcher in hand.

"I don't know, Eugene," Varian spat as he walked, words as bitter as the feeling in Eugene's gut. "Why should you? After all, I'm just a traitor to the crown. I could be a spy for the Baron or Saporia, you never know."

"Come on, I know that’s not true," Eugene stepped forward, moving to follow, but refrained. He could see the quaking of Varian’s shoulders, almost imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know him as well as he did. "Varian, you've come so far, you're an amazing kid, I just.."

Varian whirled around, showing that sure enough, his eyes were brimming with tears. "You just what? Fear me? Like everyone else? It's fine, go ahead! Just next time," he sniffled, brushing away an angry tear. "Next time, don't pretend to care. Don’t pretend that you are monitoring me just out of the goodness of your heart. Just treat me like the criminal you think I am.”

He left the lab, leaving Eugene alone with his still untested compound.

About a minute after Varian had stormed off, a guard poked his head in.

“Hey Captain… is now a bad time to tell you a prisoner escaped?”

He groaned.

-

You could practically see the steam coming out of Varian’s ears as he stomped through the castle, to the point that all the maids and guards gave him a wide berth. His cheeks puffed up as he stomped. Stupid Eugene, stupid pitcher, stupid rules, stupid stupid stupid!

“Ugh!” He cried, kicking at the ground and delighting in the scuffing noises. What did he know anyway? Varian was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, he had been for years! He’d been fine on his own in the months he’d been abandoned, after all. He didn’t need Eugene then, and he didn’t need Eugene now.

Never mind the fact that his descent into madness had been because no one was there.

He burst into the supply closet with all the fury of a thousand suns, thankful that no one was in there at the moment. His hands shook as he placed the pitcher under the pump, letting out his frustration at each up and down motion of the lever.

“What does Eugene know,” Varian hissed. “He was on his own for-fucking-ever, and yet here he is thinking that I can’t handle myself? Says he doesn’t trust me to not die, I survived just fine without him!”

He was so focused on his task, on letting out his anger and ignoring the tears that fell into the pitcher, that he didn’t hear the muffled yelling, or the shuffle of guards, or even the heavy groaning of iron on wooden floors.

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud, and Varian frowned. So much for being left alone. He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to face who he assumed was looking for him. For a moment, the only sound was the other party’s heavy breathing, and Varian’s sniffling.

“What do you want, Eugene?” He hissed. “Come to yell at me for not taking a break?”

The other person doesn’t speak for a moment. Then, a gruff, and decidedly not Eugene speaks. “Are you talking about Flynn Rider?”

Varian startles. He glances up to see the buffest man he’s ever seen (and considering his dad that’s saying a lot) is bent over, fiddling with something on his shoe.

“...yea. Eugene.” He says, turning back to the pitcher. Odd, no one in the castle called him that anymore. Maybe this guy was a visitor? A tourist who got lost? Ambassador, even? He wasn’t sure. Despite his technically high status, he wasn’t exactly welcome in court. Which meant he was often invited to royal balls only to not know a single person or anything about the current politics. It sucked.

There’s a clink as the man unlocks something. He smirks, turning back to where Varian is distracted. “So, you know him?”

“ Know him?” Varian scoffs. At the silence, he realizes the guy is serious. “Yea, I do. He’s annoying.”

“Tell me about it.” The man gruffs. Unfortunately for him (or, more accurately, unfortunately for Varian), the boy takes the invitation.

“He’s like a big brother to me, which is nice… except for the fact that he treats me like a baby brother instead of a younger one. Constantly hovering, always worried about me. I get that he means well,” he goes on, completely oblivious to how the man’s face lights up in a wicked grin, before shuffling around the closet, searching for rope and linen. “But god, it’s so frustrating when I’m trying to do something and he’s just yelling at me to take care of myself! He just wants to, to keep me locked away or something! And then today, he-he insulted my dad, tried to imply that my dad didn’t care. I get that to him it seems that way, since he’s only ever seen my dad a few times…” he let out a sigh. “I just… I appreciate what he’s doing, but he needs to chill.”

“I don’t know,” the man hums. “I’d argue he’d be valid to be concerned at this exact moment.”

Varian furrowed his brows, eyes glancing back and forth as he tried to make sense of the statement. “What does that…?” His eyes widened as the man turned around. Long blonde hair… rope in one hand… a ball and chain in another.

The Baron smirked.

-

Eugene kept a brisk pace, anger and annoyance growing by the second. Of course the one time he needed to be looking for Varian, he was stuck instead looking for a maniac. Leave it to Stan and Pete to mess up a prisoner transfer.

“Any sign?” He calls as he passes a guard, who turns to keep in step.

“No sir, but we have reason to suspect he hasn’t left the kingdom.”

“Good. I want all units on the lookout.” The guard saluted and ran off to execute. Their forces would be spread thin, but it was their best bet. He just hoped no one else would run into their convict.

Especially considering his past with the bastard.

No sooner does he make that wish, there’s a loud crash, akin to glass breaking, and a scream.

An all too familiar scream.

“No no no…” He breaks into a sprint, following the source of the noise. Please, for the love of god, let this not be the case. Let him be wrong, it’s just a scared maid, he just spooked him, let him be ok…!

He skids around the corner, and his heart stops dead in his chest.

Varian was strewn over the Baron’s shoulder, violently thrashing. His arms were bound behind his back, and a cloth tied into a gag over his mouth. Tears of desperation budded as his eyes were screwed shut. Strewn at his kidnapper’s feet were shards from a vase. Said man turned, and he saw how it was broken. Varian’s legs had been tied together, with one also chained to the iron ball that had been used to keep the Baron contained. A lot of good that did.

“How on earth are you still fighting?” The giant hissed. “That chain should keep your legs from moving!” Varian glared daggers down at his kidnapper, no doubt spitting fire through the cloth the likes of which would make Lance faint.

Eugene’s shock quickly morphed as he drew his sword with shaking hands and leveled a glare. He couldn’t protect Varian the last time he was kidnapped, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to fail this time.

The Baron smirked. “Ah, Rider. How nice of you to join us.”

Varian’s eyes snapped open, trying to look over his shoulder to see his brother. Large, tear-filled eyes met dark brown in a silent plea. Their previous argument no longer mattered. All that mattered was keeping him safe.

“Let him go. Now.” Eugene’s voice was deadly level, no longer filled with its usual charm and life. “And maybe I’ll be lenient on your sentence.”

The baron hummed, readjusting Varian in his fireman’s carry. “I have an alternative idea. See, I know you, Rider. And I know how weak you are for your friends. Your family.” The last bit caused Eugene to briefly glance up at Varian, before returning his glare to the Baron. “You’re going to let me walk out these halls, and out of this kingdom.”

“And if I don’t?” He really didn’t want to ask, he knew the answer. But he needed to know. How much danger was Varian in? It was one thing to hurt Lance, an adult who already was disliked by the Baron. But an innocent kid…?

The Baron smirked. “Let’s find out, shall we?” With that, the man thrust his fist into the giant window beside him. Glass spewed from the wound, splinters causing both Varian and Eugene to flinch, the latter taking a step back. It was all the advantage the Baron needed, climbing out and into Corona’s sprawling streets.

“Fuck!” Eugene hissed, leaping after, but it was too late. The man had vanished into the maze. He only had one option left, he realized, his gaze turning to the mainland.  

“I wasn’t planning on taking hostages, but you’re the Royal Engineer, hm? And Rider’s little brother. I’m sure I can fetch a pretty penny… though I’m not opposed to just killing you,” The Baron hummed, moving through the city’s alleys at a speed that really shouldn’t be possible when the man had a squirming teenager on his back. But the words had stunned Varian into submission, helpless to do anything but try and kick his chained leg. If he could just get the damned ball to move, he could potentially use it as a weapon.

Maybe then Eugene would actually trust him to take care of himself.

The main bridge was fast approaching, unguarded, with nothing stopping the criminal from making off with his prize. Wait… there! Straight ahead, a lampost. Varian didn’t need to move the ball, just get the chain stuck around it, and that should buy him some time!

Slowly, so as not to alert the Baron, he began to swing his leg, letting the ball’s momentum begin to carry. He couldn’t swing very much, its weight too much, but his timing was just right. The ball swung around the pole as they passed, hooking on. The Baron was not prepared for the jerk, and so he stumbled, Varian slipping down his grasp and tripping him further. He fell to the floor, grunting slightly in pain.

He only had one shot. If he didn’t get himself back up now , his attempt would fail. Nimble hands twisted around in his bonds, trying to slide out of the rope, but they were too tight.

Come on Varian, he thought to himself. Eugene taught you how to escape this stuff! Think! How do you get out of ropes?

His mind trailed to the post-Cassandra “Hostage 101” seminar Eugene had given (read: forced onto) him. Something about using your elbows to create a space in your wrists? No wait, that was for when your hands are in front of you! Gah!

Despite it all, Varian can’t help but let frustrated tears prick at his eyes, slicing down his cheek and cutting open his soul, leaving it raw, exposed to the elements, to this bastard. He couldn’t even get his binding undone! At least with his last kidnapping, he could not escape because it was literally unbreakable. Here, he was just too weak. Too naive. Too oblivious.

If Eugene was here, this wouldn’t be a problem. Eugene would never let anything bad happen to him on his watch, it was his job, after all. And he was damn good at it.

If only Varian hadn’t stormed off.

He squirmed forward, trying to drag himself away from the Baron and buy himself more time. But it didn’t work. The man grabbed onto the ball, and yanked hard , dragging the teen over rocks that slashed at his skin.

“I will admit, that is exactly what I should’ve expected from you,” he growled, his massive form towering over Varian. With one smooth motion, he hauled the alchemist up by his shirt collar, forcing their eyes to meet. “But you won’t get away that easily.”

“Neither will you!”

The Baron turned, a feral smirk crawling over his face as he saw Eugene’s panting form. “Rider. I thought I told you not to follow?” He clicked his tongue, more akin to scolding a small child.

Eugene didn’t back down, sword drawn and pointing straight at his prey. “Let him go. Now.” It wasn’t a suggestion, but an order.

The Baron raised an eyebrow, hand still tightly gripping Varian. “You took everything from me. My daughter, my legacy, my empire. You really think I should let him go?”

“He has nothing to do with any of that!” Eugene barked, protective rage racing through his veins and spitting out of his mouth like flames. “Release him. Or I will engage.”

The Baron teeth were bared, canines flashing. “Good.”

He turned and threw Varian off the bridge.

Time moved in slow motion. Wind whistled in Varian’s ears, ruffling his hair and sending it spiral above his head, filling his vision with raven edges. The sky seemed to shrink, growing farther and farther away.

Eugene’s horrified face from high above was the last thing he saw before he hit the water.

Water rushed up his unprepared nose, spilling into his soul as he choked and tried to spit and cough it out. But he couldn’t, gag remaining firmly in place. He thrashed, trying something, anything, to stop his rapid descent, but the heavy ball on his ankle prevented any success. Blue overtook his vision, rays of sun fading more and more along with his loss of oxygen. His ears ached with increasing pressure, more and more until finally the ball hit something, vibrations rocketing up his leg.

He tried desperately to think of something, anything that could help him, but as the fog of unconsciousness creeped ever closer, the haze growing stronger and stronger, all he could think of was Eugene .

It was his last thought before darkness overtook him.

“VARIAN!” Eugene shrieked, watching as his little brother hit the water with a splash . His horrified gaze whipped around to see the Baron calmly walking away. “Get back here!” He yelled, running forward with his sword prepared to strike the man down once and for all. It hit its target, slashing the Baron’s shirt open and his form onto the floor. Blow after blow, he whaled on the large man with fists so fast his enemy had no time to strike back. The Captain raised the sword with both hands on the hilt, preparing for the final strike in a fit of fury…

“Sure,” the Baron grinned through a split lip. “Kill me, go ahead. But you’ll be killing him too.”

Eugene froze mid air.

He had a choice to make.

He could fulfill his duty, keeping Corona safe… at the cost of his baby brother…

Just like during the blizzard, just like in the months after…

The Baron cackled, seeing the emotions flicker across Eugene’s face. “Tick tock, Rider!” He yelled, laughter ringing in the captain’s ears and drowning him in panic just like how Varian was drowning now-

He dropped his sword in horror, sprinting over to the bridge’s edge, barely able to make out a familiar shape down below.

There was no more hesitation; he dove straight down, teeth gritted as he took a deep breath and fell down into the murky abyss.

There was one small blessing, and that was that the bay wasn’t terribly deep. It didn’t exceed beyond 20 feet in depth, and while that wasn’t much, it was still enough to cause a problem when you’re fucking drowning .

His boots hit dirt level, eyes straining in the freshwater as he tried to make out Varian’s face. It was slack, no emotion, no open eyes… he was running out of time.

Think, Eugene, think! He’s dying! His panicked mind screeched. In theory, the gag and hands could wait, but the ball and chain needed to go. Where were his lock picks, he thought as he rifled through his pockets until he landed on a vial.

His eyes widened as he took it out, the red glow illuminating Varian’s rapidly paling face. Of course! The kid’s alchemy! Thank god he’d listened, god his brother was so smart!

Please, please work, he prayed, smashing the vial on the ankle chain, watching with delight as it dissolved like paper in water. Immediately, Varian started to float. His big brother wrapped his arms around him, pushing up off the floor to propel them to the surface.

He gasped, lungs aching as he treaded water, Varian’s head lolling against his chest as the captain struggled to keep them both afloat. Thankfully, the mainland was right by, and in no time he was pulling Varian onto a grassy bank.

He wasted no time, starting chest compressions the second they were both on shore. “Come on kid, come on, don’t die on me!” Eugene hissed, water dripping from his hair onto the teen’s face. “You survived fucking Zhan Tiri you do not get to die from this-”

He was cut off as Varian began to cough violently, rolling over onto his side as he threw up water. A soothing hand ran over Varian’s back, consoling him as the kid slowly came back to life.

Finally, he stopped gagging, only panting heavily as each breath felt like heaven. Clouded blue eyes glanced back at his savior, melting into relief when he saw who it was.

“Eugene,” he sighed, letting the older man pull him into a hug he quickly reciprocated.

“Fuck,” Eugene breathed, laying his chin on Varian’s head. “You ok, kid?”

“...I think I drank enough water for today.”

Eugene laughed, tightening his grip just a bit more. “Yea, ok, you got me there.”

-

The walk back to the castle was slow going. By the time they both got there, they were shivering like crazy, so much so that the maids took one look at them and tossed towels their way.

For now, they were settled in the infirmary, letting the doctors check Varian over to make sure he wasn’t at risk of secondary drowning. A fresh fire crackled nearby, permeating the room with a comfortable atmosphere as Varian laid his head on Eugene’s shoulder.

“Did…” Varian was the first to speak. “Did you catch the Baron…?”

“...No. He got away.” Eugene sighed, defeated. He was not looking forward to writing a report.

“I’m sorry,” Varian whispered.

“Don’t be.”

“But I am!” The teen leaned back, frustrated blue meeting confused brown. “If I had just remembered any of the stuff you taught me, I would’ve been able to escape on my own! I shouldn’t have to rely on you for everything…!” His face burned red at the admission, guilt overpowering.

Eugene frowned. “Hey, whoa. You were panicking, it’s ok to not remember! If you want a refresher I can give you one.” His eyes glanced elsewhere. “Or maybe. Someone else should. Don’t want me hovering after all.”

Varian was quiet for a moment, eyes looking anywhere but his brother as the words evaded him. “No. I… I don’t really mind hovering. Sometimes,” he added, holding a finger up. “Sometimes. It’s nice to remember you guys care. But… you need to trust me to not fall over at the smallest push.”

“You mean like this?” Eugene joked, poking Varian in the side, smirking when the kid leaned heavily and fell onto his back, resting against the cot.

“Not fair,” Varian grumbled, but sure enough, there was a small smile on his face. It faded slightly. “I’m sorry for blowing up. You were just trying to help.”

Eugene smiled, slightly pained, but still a smile. “Nah, I deserved it. I’m sorry for all the stuff I said, kid. You know I trust you with my life, right?”

Varian nodded, grabbing Eugene’s arm and pulling him down till he was resting beside the younger. “And I trust you with mine,” he said.

“Well, I would sure hope so.” Eugene snickered. “So, we good?”

“We're good.”

“Excellent. Now, I don’t know about you,” the man wrapped an arm around Varian, till he was resting his head against Eugene’s chest. “But I am exhausted. You exhaust me, you know that?”

“Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” Varian teased, but didn’t argue as his eyes slid shut.

“Grey hairs, Varian. Grey hairs.”

[yandere-mha-blog]

Chapter 3: Getting interesting

Words: 2176

You sat alone at your desk that day, looking over at Fumiko who saw you looking knowing that you knew that she was looking at you, and quickly turned her head, she must have felt ashamed about how everything was handled. You were paying attention like usual when you overheard some girls talking.

“So did you hear that Akio got put in the hospital by the nighthawk.” one said

“Really, you would think the heroes would have caught him by now.” the other one said, you had to hold your tongue saying how Akio was actually a bastard and had it coming that night, still then people would talk about you and your involvement and right now you had to finish school, four years of this wasn't about to be flushed down the drain because you were interested in this so-called villain, still it brought up a lot of questions now, how many of these attacks were actually prompted, what other tricks was he able to pull off.

You left your last class around 9 at night, night classes always sucked but what else could you do as you kept walking down the pavement only to see something bright red catch your eye. You stopped to make sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you as you saw the red feather laying on the ground the other way, was this another “gift” of his?

Curiosity may have killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back, so you went over to the feather and it moved down the street, was he playing with you, it was either follow the feather or go home and do more boring work. So you followed the feather to satisfy your curiosity as you went down the street. What exactly was he doing as the feather stopped outside a public park? It was empty or so you thought as you picked up the feather and walked in.

“I believe you dropped this,” you said looking up in a tree to see him with his foot dangling down

“Oh is that where I left it, you are doing me a big favor by bringing it here,” he said as the feather flew out of your hand and attached back to his wings

“I know you can control them, so what is this about?” you asked

“What about it, I am just chilling in a tree.” he said, “you are the one who followed my feather-like a baby duck following its mother.” “I am not a baby duck.” you said “Why do you keep leaving them for me to find?”

“Because...we are both birds,” he said

“You have to be kidding me, I'm not a bird,” you said

“Sure you are, you got them sharp talons, you can do some serious damage to someone if you wanted, is that why you want to become a doctor.”

“Excuse me, how do you know that?” you said

“I can also hear through my feathers you know.” he said “And see, like how a dolphin has echolocation.” “More like a platypus and it's bill,” you said

“Hahah true, true.” he said “When you sliced open my feather oh so rudely the other day, I was also able to see all your textbooks.” He said stretching his wings out “is why you want to become a doctor, because it's the only way you can cut people open without being labeled violent.”

“...” you were silent as one of his bigger feathers nudge your face

“You can tell me.” he said “I am not one to judge here, you know.”

“Why are you so interested in that?” you asked

“Tell you what, you tell me the truth and ill tell you something interesting about my glorious self,” he said

“Okay fine, you got me okay, I don't know what it is but as a child I would find dead animals and just want to use my talons to study them more, I was curious about it,” you said

“Well birds gotta fly, you gotta do that.” Hawks said, “So did your parents find out.”

“They did, they sent me to therapy and I suppressed it, till well I was doing dissection in class and well old habits die hard I guess,” you said

“You are telling me.” Hawks said, patting your head with one of his wings “So then what happened?” “I got sent to the school therapist, again, and she told me my curiosity was good but wasn't being used the right way and that there are other ways to learn about stuff and maybe biology was my passion, but using a scalpel can only go so far.”

“I get that like I can fly a plane, but it isn't anything like using my wings.” Hawks said, “Now my turn, hm let's see what can I tell you.”

“Why are you a villain?” you asked

“I don't like people telling me what to do, I like to do what I want on my terms.” He said, “I can't exactly do that if someone has their hands on my wings.”

“So you don't see yourself as a villain?” you asked

“Not really, the Hero public safety commission has been trying to get their hands on me since I was a child, maybe that's why I;m able to be better than most trained heroes.”

“Really now,” you said, so that's why they were so adamant about catching him.

“Haha, they won't ever catch me.” Hawks said “Anyway, I think you need to stop suppressing your quirk. When I saw you use your quirk on that guy who attacked you, you got scared after using your quirk on him.”

“I was mostly angry at him, why did you go after him?” you asked

“It's what I do, I see someone hurting someone else. I don't care if they are a hero, villain, or civilian.” “Well right now you are the only one who is on my side,” you said kicking the ground

“Funny, I feel the same way about you.” He said with a smile, you laughed a bit

“YOu aren't anything like I expected.” you said “I read so many news stories about how you were some evil killer villain, yet here you are having a full conversation with a civilian.”

“Hahah it's kinda funny when you think about it, you get bored easily huh?”

“I do and I hate it.” you said swinging your arms out “I mean each day something over and over again, learning stuff I already know just so I can satisfy my quirk.”

“Well if you got talons use them, you don't see me not using my wings.” he laughed with you “Still you should enjoy your boredom when you can.” “Haha I’ll try, thanks hawks I feel better,” you said

“I feel better too, when you are running from the law you don't have time to sit back and talk much, most people run away screaming.” “Hmm wonder where they would get that idea from,” you said

“Haha yeah wonder where.” Hawks said before his laughter died down. “Still it's getting late. You should head back to your dorm and enjoy a nice cup of tea.”

“I will, thanks for talking to me, you think we will talk again?” you asked

“Maybe if our paths cross again,” he said standing up in the tree

“What does that mean?” you asked, he just tilted his head before smiling, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone only with a gust of wind left in your face.

Maybe it was the fact you were smiling all day the next day that Fumiko was getting worried about you since at lunch she walked over

“Hey…(name) can we talk?” she asked

“Sure,” you said

“Well, Akio is getting out of the hospital and I would like if we can all talk this out,” she said

“Fine, I'll 'talk 'to him,” you said, wanting to see his face and maybe giving him a couple of good slaps.

“Great, I'm glad we can all sweep this under the rug,” she said, no you were not going to sweep this under the rug, what delusional world was she living in.

Still, you went with her to the hospital to see this man again, you and her went into his hospital room and he was slashed up, good you thought.

“Hey Akio how are you feeling?” she asked

“I'm doing good, thanks,” he said

“That's too bad,” you said crossing your arms

“(name) Akio is recovering can’t you try to forgive him?” she asked

“Forgive him, after what he tried to pull,” you said

“Hey, I was drunk. I didn't know what I was doing.” he said.'' Besides, didn't pay the price, I almost died.” you rolled your eyes

“Oh please if the Nighthawk wanted you dead you would be dead.” you said “I let me tell you i will never forgive you, oh you were drunk, you seem sober enough to try to get me home, to walk out of the bar without stumbling, the only reason I'm not taking this to the police is that I know shit bags like you get off with this every time.”

“Hey I was just trying to be nice!” he said, ” Hey Fumiko I thought you said you were here to smooth things over.”

“That's what I thought.” Fumiko said “Hasn't he suffered enough?

“No,” you said, “and if I see you come near me on campus again, you will wish the NIghthawk killed you.”

“(NAME)!” she yelled at you grabbing your arm, you brushed her off

“You are just as bad as he is,” you said and stomped out you got your message across by slamming the door.

You had better things to do anyways like reviewing your notes, you were getting bored again as you tapped your pencil on your desk.

Hawks on the other hand had just got done stopping a purse snatcher, where were the heroes anyway he thought that there should be more around this time as he reattached one of his bigger Primarie feathers, his work still wasn’t done for the night crime never slept there was always something going on somewhere. But he was getting hungry so he might as well grab something to eat as he landed in an alleyway and hid his wings and put his jacket over and walked into a convenient store to grab a bite.

“Is that all?” he asked

“Yup.” Hawks said

“Okay your total is 580 yen,” he said, hawks took out his coin pouch and paid the man, before leaving, convenience store food was easy to get and rather cheap but he was worried he was gonna gain a gut at this point, with his wings he wouldn't have anything hindering his flight ability, he wondered how miss talons were doing right now, maybe he would stop by for a visit.

You were about to pass out at your desk when you heard a tapping at your window, you looked over and saw Hawks hanging upside down tapping at your window. You walked over and opened the door.

“Oh so our paths do meet again it seems,” you said

“You know it chickadee,” he said. “Man convenience store food is good and all but it's so greasy.”

“How do you pay for that?” you asked

“I take money off the people I beat up.” Hawks said, “You look like you are in a bad mood?”

“I am,” you said

“What's got you under the weather?”Hawks asked

“Akio is getting out of the hospital and everyone is telling me to forgive him when I'm not.” You said

“Ahh well if it makes you feel better, I stole his wallet the other day.” Hawks said, you rolled your eyes

“I wish that made me feel better, I don't know why everyone is thinking I'm in the wrong here,” you said

“People are complicated, they don't like to believe someone they know is capable of doing dirty things.” Hawks said rubbing his chin “You can either let other people get you down when you are in the right, or you can know you are right and say screw em.”

“I say they screwed them.” you said “It feels nice to have someone on my side for once, this school sucks.”

“Why don't you leave, do something worth your time?” Hawks asked

“I...can’t,” you said

“OH, I see.” Hawks said, narrowing his eyes and flipping back up on the pole to his feet, “And here I thought you were different.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you said getting a little upset with him

“Nothing, nothing, I just thought you were a woman who did stuff worth her time is all, it's sad to see you wasting your potential here.” Hawks said

“I'm not wasting-” you want to say but a large gust of wind hit your face again and you sighed, before slamming the window shut in anger, anger that you felt like he was right.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

A Great Treasure

(Jaskier just constantly getting kidnapped by dragons and dressed real pretty? Yeah. I’m into it.)

tw: gratuitous, almost My Immortal levels of outfit description because I am A Ho For The Look, dragons being horny, Geralt being soft as fuck but also kinda horny

---

The next dragon that took Jaskier wasn’t nearly as sneaky. Nor was it green. The great, sapphire-blue reptile swooped down above the road in broad daylight and plucked the surprised bard up with its great talons, disappearing over the tops of the trees before Geralt could so much as think to pull his sword. The Witcher heard Jaskier’s startled cry echo out over the forest and urged Roach into a canter. He departed from the beaten path and took off in the same general direction the creature had been headed. “It hasn’t even been three full fucking weeks yet. Fuck.”

Hello, Jaskier! I’m a friend of Etheid’s, the dragon introduced herself. The draconic method of telepathic communication still bothered the bard a little but the blue dragon’s voice seemed more sing-song than Etheid’s had been. Certainly more feminine. Call me Lythos, or Lyth for short. 

“Nice to meet you, Lythos,” Jaskier muttered, clenching his eyes shut tightly. “Let’s talk more when we’re on solid ground, yeah?”

Afraid of heights, bardling?

“Just a smidgen of a little bit.”

Worry not, we’re nearly to my tower.

“Another tower?”

Whatever happened to talking on solid ground?

“I’ve been kidnapped by two dragons in one month. I’m curious.”

I doubt this will be the last time you’re kidnapped by a dragon, either. Not until one of my brethren gives up during their turn or loses the bet.

“Their turn? What bet?! What are you talking about?”

I will explain the situation to you more fully when we land. There is much to be discussed. Many things to plan. Many rules to be determined and recorded for the others. 

Jaskier sighed, glad he’d left his lute tied to Roach’s saddlebags today, and let himself be carried off to yet another strange adventure. “So you guys are just going to keep swooping in and stealing me away like this because it’s fun?”

Yes. And because Borch said that you and Geralt are kind-hearted and friendly mortals. We dragons don’t meet many such humans in our travels; we’d like to reward you somehow.

“So you’re rewarding me by kidnapping me?”

That’s why we included the second part of the deal, with the elaborately designed outfits. It’s not just because we enjoy collecting treasures from all over the Continent and squirreling them away to play with later; it’s also our form of payment to you. If you’re dressed from head to toe in silk and gold when Geralt rescues you then there’s no time to stop and take those items off before you ‘escape’. You can keep them or sell them; anything you are given by one of us should be considered payment for services rendered.

“And the service that Geralt and I are providing is...entertainment?”

Correct. It would be unfair to use up so much of a Witcher’s time without paying him.

“You’d be surprised how many people do that, actually,” Jaskier griped. “Village after village, turning him away without payment just because he’s a mutant and a freak. It’s horrible!”

Now you understand why my kin are so desperate for something good in the world. The love between you and Geralt is pure and strong, that is the other reason we chose the two of you.

Jaskier blushed. “We’re just a couple of flimsy mortals that happened to bump into each other and get along. Most of the time. It’s a very human thing to do. There are other couples in need of some emotional urging, if you’re looking to orchestrate a romance.”

No, we wish only to further yours. Now, would you care to look through the clothes I’ve gathered? We have at least another day before your Witcher finds us. 

“Less than a day if he chooses not to pause for meditation, the fool.”

He will not risk losing you, Lythos sighed happily. I checked in on him earlier; he is meditating and gathering his strength. He has admitted his love for you now and is determined to prove himself. How dreamy.

“That is absolutely precious! Ugh, I love him so much.” 

Then let us make you lovely, so that when he arrives he is doubly excited to see you.

“I can’t argue with that logic. Not from such an ancient and wise creature.”

Flattery gets you everywhere, bard, Lythos teased. She huffed out a thin cloud of steam and Jaskier chuckled in return. 

“I know.”

---

“Are you kidding me?”

Absolutely not, the dragon shook its snout. Try them on. Unless you don’t like it, of course; I have other options, too.

“No, it’s all very lovely. It’s just...I get to keep them?”

Of course. I don’t want to make you change your clothes in the middle of Geralt’s daring rescue. That would totally ruin the romance!

“I suppose that would be rather odd. Even Geralt might catch on to something like that.” Jaskier held clothes the dragon had preferred in his hands, glancing once more at the suggested shirt. “What exactly is this supposed to be?”

It’s a tunic, of course. What else could it possibly be?

The bard gesticulated towards the dragon, holding the apparent tunic out for inspection as if he was shocked or surprised by Lyth’s choice. “It’s completely sheer!”

Yes, and it will make you look so very delicate, Lythos urged. Just try it on with the pants. Just once. You can change if you don’t like it, like I said. There’s a whole closet of costumery at your disposal, Jaskier.

The bard sighed and pulled the pants on first. They were made of a deep, peacock blue silk and hugged him in all the right places. He turned back and forth, observing their fit in the full-length mirror Lythos had provided. His legs were defined but the material wasn’t overly tight; it hadn’t bunched up near his thighs or ass like silk of this kind usually did. “Were these tailored to fit me?”

Yes, they were. 

“How? I’ve only been here for a few hours and you pulled these directly from the armoire!”

Etheid passed along your measurements to the rest of us so that we could better prepare.

“Right, of course. Dragons. Bets. All that fun stuff,” the bard sighed. He tugged the gossamer shirt down over his head and tucked it neatly into the waistband of his high-waisted trousers. Jaskier glanced towards the mirror again and discovered that he looked...he looked amazing. 

The shirt had been designed with a low, swooping neckline that revealed both his collarbones and a good portion of his chest. The thin, almost translucent white material left whatever the shirt did cover still almost entirely visible. When he blushed it could be rather obviously traced all the way down to his mid-chest. The giddy bard mussed his hair a little and did his best pouting ‘rescue me’ face; oh yes, that’s the way to do it. 

Jaskier looked downright sinful. 

“You are absolutely brilliant, Lythos! Geralt is going to lose his mind when he sees me in this ensemble.”

So you’ll wear it?

“This particular outfit is my new favorite. I’ll have to wait until the next dragon shows up before we can turn a profit from this whole bard-napping melodrama venture.”

There is always the jewelry. I can give you a few extra pieces to sell since you love the clothes so much; I have too much of the stuff sitting around and collecting dust anyway.

“Would you like it if I let you choose all my jewelry? I’m afraid I tend to go a bit overboard.”

Yes, yes! The dragon huffed happily, filling the space briefly with a cloud of steam. I have temporary earrings and bracelets and necklaces. I even have anklets if you so desire. 

“Goody!” the bard rejoiced. “I love anklets! I never have good enough reason to wear them, though. This will be lovely. Do you mind if I roll the pants up to my knees? Geralt does so love the sight of my bare skin. I think it would drive him absolutely mad if we showed a little ankle for the Witcher.”

Please do whatever you see fit, my friend, Lythos insisted. You must sparkle for your White Wolf. You must look the part of the treasure he seeks to find!

“Ah, so I’m a treasure this time instead of a damsel?”

Hmm, yes. I think that makes it more interesting. What kind of treasure would you like to be?

“Geralt’s,” the bard breathed dreamily. The large, winged reptile rolled her eyes and huffed again.

Duh, that’s the point. I meant like...pirate treasure? A king’s treasure? I’ve never done roleplay before. Mostly just burning down the houses of rude nobles and kidnapping some princesses upon request. I’m not incredibly familiar with human treasure.

“Oh! I could be your hoard!”

You’re brilliant! Of course! This will be so fun. What if you laid in my tail when Geralt arrived? Like I was guarding you?

“Well then how would he get me away without hurting you?”

I could make him give a speech? Woo you away from me with your words?

“Oh, that’s very clever. Very dramatic. I love it!”

We do make a good team, I think.

“Do you have any makeup? This look would be excellent with some eyeliner.”

You are definitely as entertaining and fun as Etheid promised. I’m sure that Aramaris will enjoy you just as much.

“Wait, who’s Aramaris?”

They chose the next lot after me. Then, after Aramaris has their turn, Vertos would like a chance to partake. 

“Hold on a minute. There’s a waiting list of dragons who want to kidnap me?”

And see Geralt come running to your aid, yes. It is rather sweet to watch and we are all very bored. We’re going to see who can make you the prettiest and get Geralt the most worked up. 

“So this is just a game to you?”

As I said before, it is both a game and a legitimate matchmaking endeavor. Additionally, we’re compensating you for your time and trouble.

“I suppose,” Jaskier agreed. “Plus this outfit is absolutely to die for.”

Yes, and now to the makeup!

---

Geralt was very confused and very tired. He had tracked the dragon through the woods to yet another ancient, dilapidated tower. Jaskier was hidden at the top, no doubt, probably terrified out of his mind. This was the second dragon to capture his idiot bard in a fucking month, though the first time had been extremely unorthodox. Just plain odd, really, considering Geralt’s previous experiences. 

Oh well, nothing he could do now except climb the tower and rescue Jaskier.

---

Jaskier was waiting for his Witcher to arrive while reclining within the coil of Lythos’s enormous blue tail His pants were only a half-shade brighter than her scales and the contrast was remarkably artistic (perhaps by design). The bard was barefoot and his pants were rolled up to just below the knee. Lyth had insisted on decking him out in lots of jewelry since Jaskier was to be her supposed hoard. It will be more realistic and believable if you’re dripping with silver and sapphires, bard. He found himself unable to argue with her logic once again.

Jaskier had a handful of thin silver bands around one ankle, a silver cuff around his left wrist, and another bejeweled cuff at the top of his left bicep, beneath the shirt. Lythos had added a thin silver chain around his neck, which fell to just above his chest hair and ended with a teardrop shaped sapphire pendant. Some kind of crushed gemstone powder had been dusted atop his collarbones and into his hair, making him seem to sparkle in the midday sun. He’d added a light, smudged layer of kohl around his eyes to widen and darken them like he had once at court. The dragon had also demanded that he slide several rings of various styles and sizes onto his long, tapered fingers. It will draw his attention to your hands, she explained. You will thank me tonight, I’m sure.

That suggestion had Jaskier blushing brightly and Lythos had nearly snorted fire from laughing so hard at the young man’s reaction. 

Here he comes! She announced, bringing Jaskier’s back to the present. His blue eyes fixated on the thick wooden door that led from the chamber where Lythos lay curled and ‘guarding’ him to the bedchamber where he’d stayed the last two nights. Very shortly after her announcement there was a determined grunt, a heavy thud, and the door crashed open to reveal Geralt. 

The Witcher was breathing heavily and his nostrils were flared but he wasn’t wearing his armor. He hadn’t been wearing it last time, either, and Jaskier wondered if he was already onto their little charade. “You know I won’t win if we battle,” Geralt admitted, staring across the room at the lounging dragon.

His eyes flickered to Jaskier for a moment, widened when they took in the bard’s appearance, and then returned to staring down the monster. 

I don’t intend to fight you, Witcher, Lythos said, projecting her bored words into both of their minds. Jaskier knew that she was faking the cold disinterest but his heart still picked up speed when one of her large claws hooked beneath his chin and raised him into a slightly taller sitting position. Though I suspect that you’ve come to take back my newest treasure and I am loathe to let it go so soon.

The Witcher nodded, unable to form words. He was nervous for the life of his bard but he was also slightly distracted by the way Jaskier was being forced to arch his neck and tilt his head that way. The bard looked so fucking breakable and soft, surrounded by scales and held partially aloft by such a strong and pointed appendage. His eyes were wide and completely focused on the Witcher, his own peril seemingly irrelevant even as he gasped against the scraping claw. Geralt shook his head to clear it and narrowed his eyes even more. “Don’t hurt him.”

It’s my treasure, Lythos hummed dismissively. I will do with the human lad as I please. Go away, Witcher, and leave us to play.

“He’s not a toy,” Geralt growled. He reached for his sword and cursed when his hand swiped through empty air. He knew bringing a weapon up so many flights of stairs was pointless but he still should have kept it on him for safety. Jaskier made a gentle, nervous noise and the Wicher flinched. “Please don’t hurt him!”

You would barter for the human? For his safe return?

“Take me instead,” Geralt offered. He held his hands up in surrender and took a slow step forward. Lythos lowered Jaskier back down to his lazily reclined position and raised her scaly brow. The bard was shocked; he hadn’t been expecting the Witcher to do something so drastic right away. He’d anticipated some kind of argument first.

You would sacrifice yourself for him? Trade yourself to me in order to save him?

“Of course,” the Witcher scoffed. Lythos could hear his slow heartbeat starting to accelerate. “I love him. I’d do anything for him.”

Hmm. Little treasure, what do you think?

“I can’t let him do that for me. He’s a Witcher, I am merely a traveling bard. The world has more need for him than it does for me.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt half-whimpered. A pleading tone bled into his words as he took another step forward, this time towards the bard, “You foolish man. I know you. You’d grow bored here. You’d grow antsy to travel. You’d try to escape and you’d get yourself hurt or killed or...”

I protect what is mine, the dragon interrupted. He will be safe here. I will keep him happy and entertained.

“Please,” the Witcher sighed. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head forward, white hair falling in a curtain around his ridiculously attractive face. “Jaskier was the first good thing Destiny ever did for me. I can’t lose him.”

I have seen into your heart and know these feelings to be true, Lythos intoned. She spoke as if she was making a very difficult decision and not sticking to a vague pre-determined script. You may take the bard and go, but you must hurry. I may change my mind.

Jaskier clambered out from between the coils of her massive tail and allowed Geralt to sweep him up into those strong, stable arms. He clung to the Witcher’s neck and buried his face to hide his smile. Lythos said her final goodbye to the bard alone; I hope my kin treat you fairly. If they do not, let me know, and I shall take care of it. Thank you for the lovely time.

“Thank YOU,” Jaskier mouthed. 

And then they began to descend the winding tower staircase.

---

“I hope I never see another dragon again in my life except for maybe Borch,” Geralt panted, urging Roach into a slightly faster canter.

“Yeah,” Jaskier said, smiling a little to himself. “Running into another dragon so soon after two nearly identical kidnappings would be very strange.”

[writtingsparxx]

...And Cold

Title: ...And Cold Rating: G. I don’t think I even swore in this Pairing: Reader/Sigma. Gender neutral, no pronouns used Notes: Oh geez. I lived bitch. Thank you so much to @talkingshitpost for the prompt that started this all

Also now posted on AO3

You knew that winter was the best time for stargazing. You had heard it in every planetarium demonstration, every astronomy club meeting, every naked-eye observation lecture. Winter in the Northern Hemisphere usually meant the clearest skies, the longest nights, and the brightest stars. But, even though you were tired of hearing the same information over and over again, when Siebren de Kuiper started talking about it, you didn't seem to mind one bit. In fact, whenever the scientist started to go on about different stuff in the universe your interest only grew. And one thing in particular that the astronomer had been rambling on for the past couple of weeks was the Ursids meteor shower that was going to be at its peak soon. 

It was one of the largest and most visible meteor showers that was visible in the Northern Hemisphere at this time of the year. The only problem that was it was also freezing during this time of the year. The thought of getting to spend the entire night just watching the stars and the meteor shower was ideal, but you really didn't want to turn into an icicle either. Still, after some planning you had everything set up and ready to go. Now, it was just getting permission from Siebren to not come into the lab the next day, because you knew that you were going to be exhausted. 

"Siebren?" you asked softly as you entered his office at the end of the day. The astronomer was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands as he stared down at the papers in front of him. The last couple of weeks had been difficult. All the research that Siebren and the team had been putting in wasn't showing results as fast as some of the higher members of Talon's administration wanted, and so they were threatening him. And it wasn't just with physical harm, it was also the idea of cutting off funding, and more importantly, cutting off the medical help that was keeping Siebren as stable as possible. It was terrifying to think about, especially the threat of taking away the thing that had helped Siebren so much over the last few months. 

"Hmm? Oh, yes, sorry.... I didn't see you there," Siebren said, sitting up slightly in his chair. When he looked up at you, you couldn't help but notice how hollow his eyes looked, and how tired it seemed that he was. It couldn't be easy having to answer to people like Reaper and Doomfist, but with the added pressure of everything else, you couldn't imagine the stress that Siebren was under. 

"That's okay... I just came in," you said with a smile, reaching up to move a piece of hair out of your face. "I um... I actually came in to ask you a question..." you started, biting your bottom lip, not sure how to approach whas was essentially asking your boss out on a date. "Well, as you probably know, tonight is going to be the peak of the Ursids meteor shower, and I was just... I was wondering if you wanted to watch it with me tonight?" you asked quickly. 

You could almost hear Siebren thinking. It was obvious that he wasn't expecting for you to ask him to watch the meteor shower with you. "I... I forgot that it was today..." Siebren said quietly, his voice trailing off as he looked up over your shoulder. The last few weeks Siebren had been losing track of time easily, and you were beginning to wonder if it was a side-effect of the accident that he had. "I hadn't planned on seeing it, but... I could catch some of it with you. For research of course," Siebren said with a small smile. 

You laughed slightly, loving that he had to find some kind of justification to actually enjoy something for himself for a change. "Of course... For research," you teased with a smile. "I'm hoping to set up a little make-shift camp out near the training field. Hopefully we won't freeze to death while waiting for it," you joke with a smile. "I um... I'm going to go change and get ready. I'll see you about 6?" you asked. 

"Oh yes, understood," Siebren said with a small smile. 

You smiled brightly, turning a slight shade of pink before rushing out of the office. Even after all this time with Siebren, you still felt nervous talking to him. You wondered if there would ever be a time where even thinking about Siebren wouldn't make you blush like you had a crush on him. Still, you were happy that Siebren agreed, and you couldn't wait until later that night in order to spend some quality time with him without having to worry about anything else. At least for a couple of hours. 

When you got back to your room, you immediately started to get ready for the evening. You had managed to "borrow" several blankets from the laundry and was making sure you had enough to not only put on the ground as a protective barrier, but also to hopefully bundle up in when you got too cold. You had also set out almost every piece of winter clothing that you had. Hopefully, with enough layers you wouldn't turn into a human icicle in just a few moments. So, after piling on your long johns, thermal tights, thermal shirt, a pair of long pants, a pair of jeans, a long sleeved shirt, a t-shirt, a hoodie, your winter jacket, your heavy boot socks, boots, gloves, a scarf and your hat, you figured that it would enough to keep you warm. Making sure that you had your communicator in case of any emergencies, you grabbed your pile of blankets and headed to the training grounds. 

Just as you suspected, there was no one out on the training field at this time of the night. You suspected with the snow and ice no one would be out here at any time during the day. Still, it was nice to know that you and Siebren probably wouldn’t be disturbed. Trudging through the snow to the middle of the field, you started to set up your pile of blankets into as comfortable as a bed that you could. You sat down, smiling as you laid back, looking up at the sky. 

There weren’t words to describe how beautiful it was out here. Being far enough away from base and the rest of the world meant that you could see the stars from one point on the horizon to the other. At your zenith the Milky Way cut across the sky with its subtle orange, purples, and blues. It was absolutely mesmerizing just laying there and watching the sky as it slowly started to change. 

After what could have been ten minutes or an hour, you could hear crunching of footsteps in the snow. Sitting up, you turned quickly, seeing a large figure walking toward you. It was too dark to really tell who it was that was approaching, but you had a feeling that there was only one person who would be coming out towards the training field at this time of night. Your suspicion was answered fairly quickly as you heard Siebren’s voice call out your name. 

“I’m here,” you said, grabbing your communicator and turning on the flashlight. With the sudden light, you saw Siebren approaching you, two thermos cups in hand. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit when you saw him. He was wearing only a pair of dark pants, a long shirt, a winter jacket, a scarf and a hat. 

“I… I brought us something to drink. Coffee to help keep us awake and then some hot chocolate just to make us warmer,” Siebren said, approaching and sitting down next to you on the blankets. 

“Thank you. I’m sure that I’m going to need it. I’m already freezing,” you joked, reaching out to take one of the warm thermos, just holding it in your hand. You looked over Siebren’s outfit and laughed slightly. “How are you not freezing in just that?” you asked.

“This weather… It reminds me of being up there, at Horizon. It was always so cold. No matter how much they tried to pump the place with heat… I could never get my feet to warm up,” Siebren said, looking down at his shoes. “Whenever it gets cold, I’m reminded of things that happened there. The memories are… hazy, but there,” Siebren said softly before turning back to you. 

You smiled softly, keeping quiet for a moment. After the accident Siebren had difficulty remembering things. The medics who worked for Talon said it had something to do with him repressing the trauma of the event, but you figured that it also had to do with some treatment that the Talon agents had put him through. After all, you couldn’t have an ideal weapon when the weapon could remember all of the good that he did in the world. After a moment you looked back up at Siebren. “Thank you, for bringing the drinks. I’m sure that I’m going to need it. I’m a baby when it comes to the cold,” you explained, taking a small sip of the drink in your hand. 

“I can tell,” Siebren joked, looking over your outfit. You blushed slightly, taking another sip of your drink.

You let the conversation die, just turning your attention to the sky once more. It was quiet out here. You didn’t have to think about what was going on in the lab, or whether or not someone was going to come into your room to ask you a question. Here, in this moment you had no responsibilities, no pressing matters that had to be dealt with immediately. It was just the sky, yourself, and Siebren.

After a while, as you started to relax more, you began to feel like your whole body was heavy, and it seemed like it was taking forever for you to blink. A combination of the cold weather, the peace and quiet, and knowing that you didn’t have any responsibilities until at least tomorrow afternoon meant that you were at your most relaxed in weeks. All you wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep right then and there. Surely you’d wake up in time for the meteor shower…

As you started to get more and more tired, at one point you fell forward a little, only to be jolted awake by the feeling of a strong arm across the front of your body. You blinked your eyes open, looking up at the source of the arm. Siebren was looking down at you with slight concern, his arm across your chest and keeping you propped up. “Are you okay, mijn beste?” he asked, helping you sit up straight again. 

You blushed slightly, nodding vigorously a few times. “I’m fine, just a little tired,” you explained. You adjusted slightly, allowing yourself to sit up completely. Maybe if you sat with correct posture you’d be able to stay awake. 

“If you’d like, I could let you sleep. I can wake you when the meteor shower starts,” Siebren offered. 

“Oh! No, thank you! I… I would feel bad. I invited you out here and I don’t want to fall asleep before anything even happens!” you said quickly, going to set the how drink down and turning back to Siebren. 

“It would be no trouble. I-I don’t mind,” Siebren said with a smile. 

You blushed again, hugging your arms around you and running your hands up and down your arms, trying to warm up slightly. You couldn’t believe how nice and thoughtful Siebren was. He had been so kind and thoughtful all evening. First with the warm drinks and now offering to let you sleep. You appreciated everything that he had done and offered you so far. “I would appreciate it, Siebren,” you said softly, looking up at him again. 

Siebren just nodded in response. You started to get ready to lay down, startled by Siebren suddenly getting up. You sat back up, wondering if something was wrong. “Everything okay?” you asked, puzzled. You couldn’t see anything that would warrant this kind of reaction, and even if there was a danger you didn’t have anything on you to protect yourself. 

“Oh, I just… I was going to give you some space,” Siebren explained, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You laughed a little, shaking your head. “You can’t just stand there for possibly hours, come sit back down,” you said. 

Siebren seemed a little shy about it, hesitating before he went to sit back down. He sat down next to you, looking over for a second before looking away. You couldn’t tell that great in the dark, but you swore that he was blushing. “If… If you want, you can lean against me. It might be warmer, and more comfortable than the ground,” Siebren mumbled quietly. 

The sudden offer made your skin feel like it was on fire. You looked away, trying to focus on anything but the scientist sitting next to you. Finally, you looked back at him, nodding slightly. “I would like that,” you stammered out. You awkwardly moved over to Siebren, sitting at his side. You put your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes. A moment later, you felt Siebren wrapping you up in a blanket, making sure that you weren’t too cold still.

You didn’t know how you were going to get any sleep now. Your heart was racing and it felt like your skin was still on fire. Siebren was warmer than you expected and you were finally comfortable after freezing all night. He smelt amazing, too. You didn’t know what he used, but it definitely wasn’t the soap that they sold at the commissary. You sighed again softly, just letting everything else wash away. “Can you just talk about anything? Horizon, fun facts that you have about the meteor shower. Anything, Siebren. I like hearing you talk about space,” you said quietly, settling and moving in closer to Siebren. 

It took a moment before Siebren settled on a topic that he wanted to talk about. It had something to do with the discovery of Dark Matter and how it was probably the most important discovery that humans had ever made regarding astronomy and astrophysics, and how it had changed the way that we studied basically everything. It was hard to keep up with his train of thought as you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

You weren’t sure how long you were asleep, or how long Siebren had kept talking about Dark Matter. The next thing that you knew you were being woken up by the scientist. You were laying back against the ground, looking up at Siebren. “Mijn beste, wake up… It’s starting,” you heard him say. As your eyes started to focus you caught sight of Siebren, a meteor streaking by in the night sky behind him. 

[snaill-dragon]

A Fragile dream

Oh boy. Hey! so, I redid another one of the prologues... I know I said I couldn't for a bit but my brother let me use his computer, so thanks him. this one, in my opinion, isn't that good. However given what I had to work with from before, know it could be worse/hj. this one is a lot more dark so tw: death, betrayal by a family member, and uhhhh, some briefly mentioned stuff about how two of the skywing hybrids who used to live in the sky kingdom but don't now for sad reasons. (also tumblr messed with the formatting *again*, nothing I can do about it, sorry)

Swiftfighter watched his sister out of the corner of his eye, she was sitting with Phoenix and Song, waiting for Paradise to arrive as well, he suspected. He thought that would be a good time to make his move, to ask her, Dream trusted Paradise, so she was more likely to leave the others alone when he was there. The group was perched on a few branches, above the edge of the crowd, Swift had to help carry Song up as she couldn’t fly yet, but the rainwing dragonet seemed comfortable up there. He had claimed he was going for snacks, but really he just needed a moment to breathe, to think about something other than his… job. And yet that’s all he found himself thinking of anyway. Swift shook his head a little, and decided to head throw the growing crowd of dragons to the festival's snack stands. This year they had imported some rock candies from the skywings he was sure Phoenix and Paradise would love, a reminder of a home they once had.

The line wasn’t long, and since Swift was big enough to be intimidating, dragons let him through the crowd without much issue. He grabbed a basket of the candy, dropping some coins on the table, and decided he would rather fly back over to his friends rather than move through the crowd again. He landed with a small creak on the wider branch Phoenix was also on, the skywing hybrids warmer scales brushed over him in greeting,

“Welcome back, what did you grab?” he asked eagerly, almost knocking Swift over in an attempt to peer into the basket.

“Phoenix,” Dream warned, and the slightly younger dragon pulled back as Swift handed the basket over to her. “Thank you, Swift.” She pulled out one of the colorful treats, and looked up at him again. “Whats this?”

“Rock candy, they got it from some skywings, figured he would like it.” Swift nodded in Phoenix’s direction, who had lit up.

“Can I have one?” he asked, already reaching out some talons, Dream handed him some red ones. Then reached back into the basket and offered a blue one to Song, the dragonet sniffed it for a second, before turning a disgusted shade of green and turning away.

“No.” she said, Dream sighed and decided to take a bite herself instead.

“Come on Song '' Phoenix insisted after swallowing, “you should try it, it's delicious.”

“No it's yucky.”

“You don’t know that if you haven’t tried it.” Swift added, he had gone out of his way to grab these, afterall. Dream glared at the pair of them,

“She doesn’t have to eat it if she doesn’t want to, you guys.” She said, and the subject

was dropped quickly, luckily just in time for a new prospect to come and ruin their conversation. A rainwing, much older than any of them, flew up and glowered at them.

“Move it along, dragonets, this is my spot.” He insisted, “I reserve it every year for the festival, as I’m sure you’ve seen.” Swift kinda glared at him, but followed without protest as Dream jumped off her branch, and he saw Phoenix grabbing Song before he dived after her. When they landed on the ground, they were quickly surrounded by other dragons, and Swift never saw where the other two landed. He looked around for a split second, before realizing he should probably take this moment to his advantage.

“Hey Dream… uh, can I show you something?”

“Hmm?” she asked, turning to look at him. “What is it?”

“Just on the outside of town, there were some odd rock formations I saw flying over this morning.” He lied, pointing in the direction he was meant to bring her.

“You think Stonecaller made them?”

“It's usually her, yes.” He agreed, the troublemaker was usually a pain in his neck, but he could use her to his advantage now. Dream sighed, rubbing her talons against her forehead,

“Great,” she muttered sarcastically, “I have to go deal with that later.”

“Actually I think we should go now,” Swift insisted, “someone could find them, with how many dragons are here.” Dream looked conflicted at his words,

“I suppose… but what about Song and Phoenix?”

“They can go for a few moments without us, isn’t part of raising them teaching them independence?”

“Well… yes.”

“Besides,” he nudged her in the right direction, and they started to try and shuffle through the crowd “Paradise might actually be here when we get back.” When I get back, he thought to himself, but he dismissed the thought, it had to happen.

“Maybe…” Dream agreed half-heartedly, she was probably worried about the others Swift suspected. He hurried her along before she could turn back, muttering apologies to anyone he moved by a little too fast. When they arrived, Dream turned to him.

“You're acting off, what's wrong Swift?” She asked, seeming more concerned than suspicious, he scoffed, his sister was always oblivious.

“I'm just worried,” he said, stalling now more than anything, any minute now. “About Stonecaller?”

“About me, really.”

“And why would you-” and then, with perfect comical timing, his sister keels over, a small dart sticking out of the back of her neck. A moment later there was a thump, and a large blue and red rainwing stood before him.

“Good job, Swift.” He nods, not looking at the newcomer and instead his sister. He reaches a talon over her neck,

“She’s just asleep right now right?”

“For now, oh and,” the dragon breaks off the gem embedded necklace Dream had been wearing, and hands it to him, “she won’t need this anymore.”

“...thanks.” He was pretty sure they knew he wasn’t actually thankful, but they nodded anyway, as slowly, at the now exposed part of her neck, Swift wrapped his talons around her.

“Make it quick, and she won’t feel a thing.”

[cassieschaosdimension]

Here is the second installment in the redemption arc of Draco Malfoy.

The First Class (with the Gryffindors; I'm basing this off of the books and it's a fic so...)

He woke up after the feast in the Slytherin common room. Draco grins to himself running his hair through his unruly hair then he turns his head and it falls.

Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Zabini were sleeping around the room. How is he going to avoid them as he goes to breakfast?

It was especially hard not to wake up them meanly, but Draco wanted a clean slate where he could be himself without feeling smothered. He tried to be as quiet as possible. He doesn't want Nott and Zabini to ask questions. He may have had to grow up with them, but he doesn't have to be nice to them. Father might be furious at him, but mother said he should just be himself and it would all be fine.

Putting on his uniform and robe, Draco thinks how proud his father will be to see he's in Slytherin just like his parents were. He's always gravitated towards mother; she wasn't as harsh as father and made sure he was taught to be himself. At least she was the one who wanted him to be happy. Father only wanted Draco to become a mini Lucius and as much as he loved his father, he did not want to become just like him.

Tiptoeing out of the dormitory he shudders at the thought of turning as mean, heartless, and cold as his father. He never wants to be like that. He wants to bring light and happiness in the world because his father sucks it all up. Draco doesn't remember when he was allowed to laugh and smile.

Pushing open the heavy door, Draco runs into Marcus Flint, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch House team.

"Hey Draco! Nice to have you finally here! Come on, let's come down to breakfast and stuff our faces before class." At the word class Flint rolls his eyes. Draco is shocked. He didn't realize Flint was disrespectful! The professors gave up any hope of a social life to teach them! The least they could do was respect them, but Flint didn't.

He tries to get away and go see where the people he met yesterday on the train are sitting. Glancing around until he spots them he grins. The grin slides off his face faster than a dementer closing in to perform the Kiss. They're at the Gryffindor table like he expected, but it still hurts.

Hmm, Hermione seems to be off to the side from everyone. He enjoyed going head to head with her on the train. (NOT DRAMIONE NOPE PLATONIC PEOPLE!!!!) Not many people could do that and survive. He wanted to be good friends with someone like her even if she was Mu-Muggleborn. He was going to have to get used to calling them by their proper names, not what his father always called them.

Harry and Ron looked thick as thieves already and it had barely been a day! Sitting down at the Slytherin table, Draco wishes he could have a friendship like that. He had hoped for that on the train, but Neville had squashed that flat. Poor Neville looked absolutely terrified when he heard his name!

Draco was sad as he saw the smile fly off the face of the round faced boy Draco thought would be nice when he introduced himself. Maybe the letter he wrote to his mother would have some answers.

The hooting of hundreds of owls suddenly fills the cavernous Hall. His owl, Talon, soars down to him. The giant parcel dropped in front of him seems to be filled with sweets and cakes. Among the cakes, he finds a folded letter. His mother must have placed this when she sent Talon off again. Bypassing the edible goodies the poor house elves must have been forced to.make for him, he goes right for the letter.

Dearest Draco,

I am hesitant to respond to you in case your father intercepts this, but I have placed this in your parcel instead of sending it with Talon separately.

The boy's name is Neville Longbottom yes? Your concern is welcoming, but the story is chilling.

This was before you were born in early 1980 and Snape has overheard the Divination professor utter a prophecy. Yes, Draco. The prophecy which changed our world forever. He was still very much in love with Lily Evans, who married James Potter earlier that year, and the prophecy scared him beyond comprehension.

He was scared it meant Harry and went to the Dark Lord to beg for the release of Lily Evans as he knew she would never leave Harry to die. But unfortunately, that was not so as you know and the Potters were killed leaving behind a little boy not much older than you were at the time.

Aunt Bella went to the Longbottoms that night and she tortured them for the whereabouts of the Dark Lord because she wanted to know where he went. The Longbottoms were tortured into insanity and left a one year old son, Neville, behind to be raised by his grandmother.

Draco gasps at this part. He knew aunt Bella was twisted, but not to that effect. He felt sorry for Neville and wants to apologize, but not in front of all of these people. He doesn't want to embarrass Neville. He'll read the rest of the letter later, he got his question answered. He'll have to thank his mother later for risking that information.

Draco, putting the letter into his pocket after folding it, digs into the hearty breakfast with relish. The rest of his dorm mates are down by this point. He glances at them out of the corner of his eye. Crabbe and Goyle are pigging out as per usual. Nott and Zabini are turning up their noses at the breakfast. Draco shrugs and goes back to eating.

Soon breakfast is over and he has his first class. Draco is excited because it's Potions and Snape teaches it.He walks alone having declined company. He wanted company, but not the company that was offered.

He was told by Flint to walk towards the Common Room and then turn left and he'll reach Potions eventually. Surprisingly, Flint gave him the right directions. When Draco walks in, the room glass silent. Sauntering in, Draco sits alone hoping Neville, Harry, or Ron will sit with him. The more people that aren't them that scramble in, the more dejected he feels.

By the time the boys arrive, all of the seats around Draco are filled by Nott, Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle. Draco wants to bang his head against the table in frustration. How on earth is he supposed to apologize for his aunt's behavior if he's never alone?

He tells himself to think of the happy days when he was allowed to be himself and play with the house elves. He had loads of fun with them and he learned amazing lessons from them. Draco thinks of all of the sweets and cakes he was taught in secret as soon as he turned eight. His mother allowed it because he was happy, but anytime his father was around he had to act like him.

A bang at the back of the classroom jerks Draco back to the present. Time to act he tells himself. He's going to loathe it, but until he can explain it to the others he has to act like this. He doesn't want Snape to report to his father that he's not acting like he's supposed to.

Snape's black robe flaps behind him as he makes his way to the front of the room. Draco has to keep from laughing at the sound. Every time Snape takes a step, the robe's hem smacks against the floor. Others aren't even attempting to hide their giggles.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor! I suggest if you don't want more points taken Mr. Finnegan, you will stop laughing. As such, you will receive detention tonight. You will be notified about your detention by Professor McGonagall. The same goes for the rest of you! Now, shall we commence to be introduced to the subtle art of potion making?"

The rest of the Slytherins are sniggering and jeering at the Gryffindors so Draco does it too. He feels absolutely wretched about it though. This is not who he is. Why did the Hat put him in Slytherin again?

The discussion with the Hat was interesting. The Hat told him he would do well in Gryffindor, but he asked to be in Slytherin because he didn't want to be disowned by his father. He didn't understand what his father was doing was wrong until he was eight and started to have to sneak around with the house elves.

Three years later and he worries about the house elves when he's not there. His mother can't protect them from his father's wrath all the time. Snape's voice carries out into the cavernous dungeon and Draco forces himself to listen intend of thinking of things that will make him cry. His father says crying is for the muggleborns, muggles and blood traitors like the Weasleys. Draco doesn't understand why the Weasleys are blood traitors though. The family is a pureblood family?

Oh well. Snape is now interrogating Harry about Potions ingredients and he doesn't answer. Draco knows the answers, but he has to pretend to be indifferent. Hermione has no problems with it. Her hand shoots up each time Harry says he doesn't know. She's brave he thinks to himself. Snape only knows one side of himself. He wishes he could show his true colors, but he's too afraid of his father to even think of it.

When Snape snaps at Hermione, Draco wants to defend her, but again, his father holds too much influence at Hogwarts. No one else defends her either. Is it so hard to defend your own House mate against a teacher?! Then again it is Snape and Snape is terrifying. That's the only reason Draco can think Neville isn't defending Hermione.

The rest of class is like that and Draco wants to cry for Hermione. She takes it like a pro and she must have gotten this treatment at her muggle school. He feels sick to his stomach. No human, or any creature for that matter, should be treated that way.

He wants class to be over so he can apologize to Hermione, but she runs out the door as soon as the bell trills. Draco grabs his books and stuffs them in his bag intent on following Hermione to see if she will let him apologize for what happened with the train and Snape. All he needs is for someone to give him a chance and he will be the most loyal friend they would ever ask for. All he wants is a real friend that isn't with him for his money or influence.

Walking to his next class he thinks about the apology he's going to make to each of them if he ever gets the chance.

Three days later and I'm finally done with the second installment! Enjoy! Please be honest in your opinions, I don't mind!