#it's partially on me because i could actively make an effort to calm the fuck down and only put in the effort im paid for

[jaggedtrachea]

starting to think maybe its not normal to work a job that basically puts me in fight or flight mode for 10 straight hours at a time

[taddymason]

Brother

One shot of Kaida and Noah (from @finn-m-corvex)!! This au has possessed my mind and made me really want to write something after reading Finn's amazing one shot. Chronologically this would be a continuation (not relevant, but at least in this one Jay hasn't recovered his memories).

I will publish the next chapter of Lighting Pin soon, these weeks I have been with exams and for some reason the third chapter has been quite heavy to write.

(also sorry for any spelling mistakes, English is not my first language!)

Words: 2.9k

TW: implied child abuse.

Living in the monastery is weird. Kaida feels like an outsider and that sucks.

It's weird because there are times she's too aggressive to let her guard down for a fucking second and stop yelling at any of these people. It's weird because sometimes she allows herself to stop and think about how screwed the Administration was with the rest of the world, that these kids here weren't ordered to kill from a young age or that they've never washed someone else's blood under their fingernails. That there are things that she thought were normal and when she says them out loud she realizes that they were not.

Sometimes she feel like a rabid dog that just wants to bite something and not let go, she feel like if any of them talk to her the first thing they will say will be an insult or something hurtful. She is angry at how things have changed, that her father is no longer hers, that there is no normality to return to because there never was one.

And when Tessa tells her how her father treated her and Noah, that anger doesn't diminish. Not when she knew every word was true.

It was hard to process… that. Especially when her Jay would probably set the world on fire before letting something bad happen to her. When he preferred to stay in the Administration despite all the bad things that happened there, the bad things that they had to do in their job, just so as not to lose her.

They had never talked about it, she didn't even know how he would react if she told him, but she was sure that the reason the Administrator had let him adopt her was solely so that he would stay there. Have two elemental masters nearby. It had worked well she supposed.

After her training, she enters the monastery dining room once she saw that it was partially clear. Only Noah was there, lying on an couch reading a book with complete concentration. She didn't have as much trouble talking to him compared to the others. He was calm in a way the others weren't and he wasn't actively trying to make her angry like Jenna.

"What are you reading?" She asks, raising her voice, a few steps behind the couch where he was.

She had been trying to talk to them more, to build a relationship that wasn't based on her speaking sarcastically to them, to be more empathetic as Jay liked to say. It was an effort, but she felt like she should at least try.

The boy looks up, startled by her presence, smiling friendly in a rather familiar way as he gestures to his book.

“Hey, Kaida! I was working on some ideas for a future project. You want to see?" He says in a kind and jovial voice. It was quite difficult for her to believe how he and Tessa could be so calm, have so much patience with what they had had to suffer. How could they make it look so easy? She supposed it was something that came with having siblings.

Kaida nods somewhat uncertainly, and he holds out the book for her to see, a few scribbles and paragraphs of engineering terminology written on the pages that seemed to be some time old.

She can't help but roll her eyes while huffing. She shouldn't be surprised that half of them were so passionate about inventing. “A mech. You really like these mechanical things, huh?”

Noah raises an eyebrow curiously, not responding to the mockery. “Do you know how to read Ninjargon?” She nodded vaguely with disinterest as she continued searching through the notes for some idea similar to a weapon or a ship. "I had no idea. Although it makes sense I guess…”

She didn't miss the way his tone fell at the end. It was easy to read between the lines. Hoping it wouldn't show, she clears her throat. “Yeah, actually, I have quite a collection of books from here. They are better than any shit from the Administration. Especially the animal ones.”

His face lights up with a smile, he brushes away the blue locks that fell from his forehead as he sits up slightly. "I also like them a lot! What’s your fav-?”

His tone is suddenly cut off when a voice interrupts him from behind them.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Both she and Noah turned their gaze toward the door. Jay enters at a brisk pace while giving her a half smile. She doesn't miss the way Noah tenses next to her at the sound of his voice.

That moves something red and burning in her chest and she pushes it down, remembering Tessa's words. She couldn't blame them.

“Hi, old man.” Kaida waves mockingly, hoping the worried look she gives the boy next to her wasn't obvious. It seemed like he could run away at any moment.

“How was your training?” he asks and she's grateful that in that moment he keeps his distance and doesn't get too close to where they were. She felt stupid for not realizing why sooner, but Noah never liked being in the same room with him for long.

Kaida glances at him carefully, gauging his withdrawn expression before turning to Jay as she takes a few steps forward.

“Well, I still insist that target practice is better.” She jokes, although she actually meant it half seriously. She wasn't used to fighting for so long without using a weapon or her powers, physical strength had never been one of her advantages. The fights had to end quickly in her opinion.

But she had also been able to talk to Tessa more, which ultimately must have been something.

Jay laughs softly while rolling his eyes. “If you want, early tomorrow we can do target practice in the yard.”

She smiles. “Don't you think the green one would be against that idea?”

He frowned half defensively as he snorted arrogantly. “Well, he's not my leader.” And that's when he scans the room, paying attention to the boy on the couch for the first time. Jay's gaze lingered on Noah for a moment, no doubt noticing the boy's rigid posture, the way he had deliberately turned his eyes to his book, how he avoided looking at him or making the slightest sound whenever he spoke.

His brow furrows slightly, and for a few seconds, he opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, struggling with the words with a slurred sound.

However, in the end he just sighs dejectedly and mutters a few words under his breath.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He murmurs, keeping his voice deliberately calm. His hand absentmindedly pats her shoulder as he passes, giving the other teen one last look before he leaves.

She nods firmly, waiting for him to leave the room before turning around and walking over to where the other boy was. He was hunched over, his black hair completely covering his eyes as he read his old book. Although it seemed more like he was glaring at the pages more than reading them.

"Hey." She calls, attracting his attention. Kaida took a deep breath before saying. “You don't have to be afraid of him, you know. He’s not going to hurt you.”

Noah frowns with a small inhale, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he lowers his gaze. His fingers absentmindedly run through the pages of his notebook.

“It's… complicated, Kaida.” He whispers, almost as if he was preparing for her to fight and argue like he had with Tessa. His body was so stiff that he was practically shaking as he crumpled in place. “I don't think you understand. You don’t want to hear about this.”

She didn't really want to hear about it, what Tessa had said had been too much. She might as well have taken that as a sign to continue on her way and mind her own business.

But she didn't want them to continue being afraid of Jay either. Especially when he could definitely tell, and she already knew he was dealing with too much shit right now.

Instead of leaving, she makes a sympathetic face, hesitating for a moment before sitting down in one of the other chairs. Her hands clenching together as she absentmindedly pulled at her cuticles.

“Tessa told me about your timeline.” she murmurs, trying not to make her voice sound as sharp or harsh as she felt. She had noticed that he didn't like it when she and Jay spoke loudly, which was all the time because they were both terrible at speaking softly. Noah's gaze clears with understanding and wonder as he sits up straighter. “I'm sorry about what happened to your parents.”

He seems to bite his tongue and his own voice, running a hand through his hair several times between slow breaths.

“He never tried to be my father.” He says in a heavy voice, slurring his words. His tone is calm, however, there's more resignation than anger than she expected and she didn't know what to do about. “All he did was… make things worse. For me and Tessa. He didn't even care when he hurts us or-“ he cuts himself off as he shook his head in regret. "No, I'm sorry. You don’t want to hear this, kid.”

She frowns, trying to think clearly as she spoke. “If you want to talk about it, I can handle it.” Her eyes dart back in the direction Jay had gone before looking back at him. “Jay is not like that. He wouldn’t hurt you, much less want you to be afraid of him.”

He shakes his head slightly. “I just don't think I'm ready to give him that chance.”

Kaida took a deep breath as she bit her lip nervously. She knew he wasn't winning any awards for emotional talks and she appreciated the infinite patience this boy had in handling her pathetic attempt.

“Look- Noah, I'm telling you this, because I know how you feel.” she explains, the words something bitter that she spits into the air with difficulty. “I know what it's like to be… scared like that.”

He looks at her uneasily, looking her up and down intensely. Looking genuinely confused as he cleared his throat with halting words. "How?"

“It wasn't Jay, if that's what you think.” she assures with a rigid tone. The scars on her eyebrow stung with a burning sensation, the memory of the grip of a gun crossing the air, and she absentmindedly scratches them as she looked away.

She hears him sigh in relief before starting to speak. "But then, what-"

She cuts him off with a sharp sigh, speaking quickly as she waved a hand in the air.

"I, um, I grew up in an orphanage, you know? And it was a military orphanage, so it was double shit." "She explains, clicking her tongue between the pauses in her words. As if she had a mouth full of cotton." "They trained us to be agents. Soldiers." She could hear him swallowing hard, swallowing whatever words he wanted to say, but he doesn't speak. “And the people there didn't treat the children well. We were supposed to be tough and disciplined. They did not tolerate mistakes and they had their… methods to make us obey them.”

Noah looked at her intensely the same way Jay did when she said things like that. When she was a fucking mess who bit the hand of anyone who came near, when her first instinct for any mistake was to run because she didn't know what the punishment would be.

She can imagine what it must be like for Tessa and Noah and it doesn't help her calm the knot of anger that coils in her throat and chest. It was one thing for the stupid Administration guards to give her a scar on her face because of her intelligent mouth, but for their father to do things like that to them? That made her stomach turn.

She makes a sudden gesture with her hand, trying to downplay it, so that it doesn't show how much that look affects her. “I'm just saying, I'm still- I'm still dealing with it. Being distrustful of people. Or- “she takes a breath before continuing. "-being afraid all the time."

Noah purses his lips, his face pale as he rubs his eyes, a tired expression that underlines everything he has endured. “Kaida, I-“

"I just want you to know that Jay helped me with that. It didn't matter if I was practically a burden, or if I was too screwed up not to get upset over the smallest thing-" Noah frowned as if to interrupt her, but she continued. "What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to be afraid of him. He's never laid a hand on me. And I know he wouldn't do it to you either."

He is silent for a moment before speaking. “It's just… it's harder than it looks. It's too much. For me and Tessa. It doesn’t help that he- well, he doesn’t even remember Nya or the others.”

Kaida grimaces, rubbing her hands restlessly. “Yeah, I don't think I'm helping with that.”

Noah frowns immediately as he shakes his head a few times again. "It's not your fault."

“Yeah, but I'm not making it any easier either, right?” she snorts harder than she intended. It takes her a moment to catch her breath again between her teeth. Noah looks at her attentively and not for the first time, she wondered where he got the desire to stay and listen to what she had to say. She wasn't good at this. She clears her throat, eyes closed. “I don't want to pressure you to see him as- you know. Just give him a chance. And, uh-” her tone stumbles stiffly and struggles to keep her words steady and not shake pathetically. “I want you to know that you can talk to me about these things if you want, not just with Tessa. I can deal with it.”

She opens her eyes to see his expression, Noah, to his credit, just blinks in surprise for a few seconds before nodding. Clearly confused as to whatever peace attempt they're forming here, but taking it at least. There is a softness in his gaze that she cannot decipher and she tries to ignore it as she crosses her arms.

"Alright." She hears him say in a stiff voice and she only nodds once.

"Good." Her fingers drum against the arm of the chair several times for a moment before she clicks her tongue sharply. “Anyway, do you know the story about the claustrophobic astronaut?” She asks in complete seriousness, he looks at her blankly as she waits dramatically in silence. She waits just a second before smiling. “He just needed some space.”

If she had known how he was going to laugh at a joke like that, maybe she would have told one of her stupid puns much sooner. His loud laughter only encourages her own, and soon the red acid burning in the pit of his stomach evaporates like a cloud.

Noah interrupts himself in the middle of his laughter with a firm and intense voice.

"Hey, Kaida, you can talk to me too if you need." He wasn't lying. He makes sure to add emphasis to his words as he leans forward. "And you're not a burden. You know that?"

She doesn't really agree with that, but the way he says it sends something warm and safe in her chest and she doesn't have the strength to contradict him. Instead, she nods vaguely with lost eyes.

He gives her a tentative smile and looks back at his book, although he still didn't seem to be reading the pages. Kaida, once she is sure that no one is approaching, takes courage before speaking.

"Do you want to tell me about any of your inventions?" Her hand vaguely points to the notebook.

His gaze practically glowed as he looked at her with a dumbfounded smile. "Really?"

She shrugs, approaches him less cautiously than before. "I'm sure there must be something good about Ninjago's primitive technology, right?"

He laughs again, not even bothering to respond to her mockery, before delving into complex, technical terms about his inventions at full speed. She stays by his side, still a good distance away, but listens to him attentively while he speaks without even stopping to breathe.

Maybe having a brother wasn't so bad after all.

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Game Night

Mafia boss fatgum for the fucking win!!

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

 You let out a gasp as Taishiro pinned you to the wall in his office, his hot mouth pressing against your own demandingly while his hands roamed your body, quickly dipping down to grab your arse roughly.

 Wanton moans fell desperately from your ravaged lips as you grabbed a hold of his fluffy hair, tugging him closer while he lifted your much smaller form up from the floor; his larger body pressing up against yours to create a friction that had you whimpering into the air-deprived kiss.

 “Look at you, whimpering like this for me” Taishiro smirked lazily as his lips brushed against your own, his husky voice vibrating against your swollen and sensitive flesh. An underlying message laying hidden in the low pitch of his voice, a promise of all the things he could do to you without so much as to laying a finger on you; a promise that had you shuddering in anticipation.

 “Mm, I can only imagine what you’ll sound like when you let me have my way with you, baby girl…”

 ~  ~  ~ ~  ~

   “Hey, (Name)!”

   You hummed quietly at the sound of having been addressed by the person beside you, your mind only partially acknowledging them while you tried desperately to cling to the daydream that had been burning away the time you had yet to kill until your next errand. Unfortunately, your efforts to keep the imagery alive within your mind failing as the splendid scenario slipped from your grasp, reversing into the depths of your overly active imagination.

   “(Name). The big guy wants to see ya.”

   Your entire body jolted at his words, causing your attention to snap back to your current surroundings, the boring scenery putting a damper on your mood until you took in the words spoken to you. You couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping as you turned to look at Eijiro, the usually chirpy new-members face holding a vaguely serious air about it, shooting pure adrenaline down your spine.

 The big guy. Known as ‘Fatgum’ by most others and Taishiro Toyomitsu to those closest to him, his adopted family per se, his very own mafia.

 “He wants to see me? Me? What did I do?” You squeaked out softly, somehow managing to close your mouth while Eijiro shrugged his shoulders, glancing towards the game room that Taishiro would frequent when he wasn’t hauled up in his office, dealing with the situations his members would get themselves into.

 “Not sure, but he’s in there and he said he wants to see you” Eijiro explained, jutting his thumb towards the game room that Taishiro was currently residing in. You were almost positive you hadn’t done anything to warrant any bad attention from the somewhat terrifying mafia boss, but at the same time; it was never good to be called in to see him alone and even if you had never been called in personally like that, with no one else in the room, you had heard the rumours of what happened to those that had been.

 “Now?” You questioned meekly, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you glanced towards the closed door to the game room, knowing who awaited your presence on the other side.

 “Yep, if it helps, I don’t think it’s like with other times he’s called people in. He seemed pretty relaxed, he’s just playing some pool” He added, offering up a smile in an attempt to calm your obvious nerves and for some reason, it worked. Not completely but enough to let you nod your head in acknowledgement before standing up, your drink left forgotten at the table.

 “Right…here’s hoping I didn’t fuck up” You gulped as you wandered towards the game room, thankful it wasn’t such a long walk; for some reason you had picked a table reasonably close to the game room to relax at. A choice you knew you wouldn’t make again if things went south.

   “Come in (Name), don’t linger at the door!”

   You flinched at his shout, quickly opening the door to the game room so that you weren’t agitating Taishiro more than he already was, if he was; it was hard to tell, you had been lucky enough not to have experienced that side of him yet.

 Actually, you had put in a lot of effort specifically to avoid getting in his bad books.

   “You’re nervous.”

   It wasn’t a question, instead, a statement. He was reading you like a book and he hadn’t even moved from his spot at the pool table, the soft clicks of the pool balls signalling the relaxed nature of the room. Though it didn’t help you relax all that much.

 “I…I guess so” You stuttered out softly, reaching behind you to shut the door to the room when Taishiro motioned for you to do so; apparently, he wanted some privacy for whatever reason he called you into the room.

 “I don’t need you to guess. I can tell” He glanced up at you as you spoke, golden eyes staring right through you and to your soul, it felt like you were unable to hide anything from him and truthfully, you would agree with that. Hiding anything from Taishiro was out of the question.

 “I was hoping you wouldn’t be so nervous because things aren’t looking good for you now, (Name).” He sighed, standing to his full height and placing the pool cue on the table, towards the side where it couldn’t bump the balls out of place.

 “U-Um…I don’t understand” You paused when he held up his hand, instantly silencing anything you might have had to say; apparently, he wasn’t interested in your lack of understanding of the situation.

 “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I want to know why you, a member of this gang for years, has decided to betray me” Taishiro demanded, narrowing his eyes as he approached you, his entire being completely and utterly intimidating.

 “Wait, wait, wait, I would never…I, boss, I wouldn’t” You stuttered out as he stopped in front of you, one of his large hands coming up to grab your chin, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip; silencing you.

 “Do you know how many times I’ve heard those words? How many people have stood in front of me and lied through their teeth?” He demanded quietly, his grip on your chin tightening ever-so-slightly; though you weren’t sure if he was hiding his anger or showing it to you. He was a man that liked control, so either way, it worked in his favour.

 “But…I know the truth” He paused, chuckling quietly to himself before leaning down to stare deeply into your eyes, his thumb brushing over your lip gently; his entire demeanour now relaxed and non-threatening.

 “The…the truth?” You frowned in confusion as he stepped away from you, motioning you to the pool table while he moved to set it up once again. It was strange, confusing and you weren’t entirely sure what was going on anymore.

 “Yes, the truth. Now come here, have a game with me…relax a little (Name). I won’t bite” He grinned as he spoke, glancing over at you while your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, your thoughts already spiralling out of control despite what had almost occurred.

 “Unless you want me to that is” He added, looking back towards the pool table while you wandered over slowly, still partially on guard. You didn’t dare deny nor agree to his little remark, it seemed he could read you like a book; which meant he likely knew the answer already.

 “Now. I had someone come to me earlier, came with proof of you getting up to no-good behind my back” Taishiro sighed deeply as he held out a pool cue towards you, reaching for another for himself, seemingly agitated with the newly started conversation.

 “Don’t panic, I’ve already looked into it. I doubted it from the beginning…you’re one of my oldest companions (Name). You joined when it was just a couple of us, I’d be an idiot to believe such convenient proof” He muttered out, tapping his fingers against the pool table quietly, his eyes glued to your every move, watching and judging.

 “You used to tease me back then too” You pointed out quietly, fiddling with the pool cue in your hands; if you were honest with yourself, you should have thought of that. That he would try and tease you, because, while you had stayed out of his bad books from the beginning, he had taken to tricking you every now and then. An unamusing little hobby of his.

 “You used to hang around me much more back then” He added, swiping his hand toward the table in a motion for you to be the one to break, his piercing gaze leaving little to no room for argument; you had to break!

 “Yeah, well…the gang got bigger” You muttered, positioning yourself at the end of the pool table, leaning down to make the shot that he had so graciously insisted you take. While it was a little easier to relax, chatting with him like this, it wasn’t a conversation you really wanted to have.

 “I always had, no, no. That isn’t right, I always have time for you. If you think any different then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did” He frowned as he watched you, fingers tapping against the pool table faster than before, a tell-tale trait of the agitation that was building within him.

 “I know you always have time for me” You paused, taking the shot he had demanded of you, a relieved smile spreading across your lips when you made the shot, only just barely avoiding a mistake that would have Taishiro tease you relentlessly.

 “But, I didn’t want you to be distracted by me. Everything was getting so serious, it seemed easier to just…let you focus on your family”

   “You’re a part of that family.”

   His blunt statement made you blink in surprise, your eyes darting up to meet his frustrated gaze, golden eyes hiding a storm within them. You knew he was serious about his gang being family to him, a man that had once wandered around with no one, but usually he would say it with a grin, or at the very least; a smile.

 “I know…” You trailed off, unsure of how else to answer him. Though it hadn’t been a question, it felt like you needed to answer him; like he needed to know that you were aware of the fact.

 “They called you new.” He clenched his teeth, turning his head to look away from you as he spoke, the agitation that had built up so quickly inside of him beginning to surface while you took a hesitant step towards him. Feeling braver than you probably should have.

 “What? Why does that matter?” You froze when he looked at you, slamming the pool cue in his hand down onto the table, shaking it with the force used and making you jump in response; your own pool cue falling to the floor loudly.

 Even if you had been working for Taishiro in this sort of business for years, you still weren’t entirely used to sudden and unexpected noises.

   “Why does that matter? Seriously, (Name)?!”

   You nodded silently, watching him as his anger seemed to only grow, the temper he was famous for in the area rearing its ugly head.

 “Because you’ve been here for years but they assumed you were new, an easy target, based off of how you acted around me! How the fuck is that meant to make me feel?” He demanded, glaring down at you before reaching out and grabbing your wrist firmly; not enough to hurt you but enough to drag you out of his game room and into the main area of the building, silencing any noise that had been going on.

   “Raise your hand if you think she’s new to our family!”

   You gulped nervously as hand upon hand went into the air, the only hands that stayed down were the ones belonging to those that were around before even you were. Them and the newest member Eijiro, who was strangely enough, looking to the side with a sheepish look on his face.

 “Do you see?” He bit out, turning to glare down at you with a fire burning deep within his gaze, his anger not yet settled while the people in the room looked around in confusion; none of them having any idea why their boss had asked such a question.

 “Barely five people know who you are, everyone thinks you’re new!” He opened his mouth to say more but quickly chose to remain silent, instead pulling you back into his game room; slamming the door shut once you were inside. Nothing else he had to say was for them to hear, or so you guessed. Taishiro was a hard man to figure out.

 “I don’t understand why that’s such an issue” You mumbled softly, puffing up your cheeks while managing to pull your arm free of his grasp, the statement seeming to shock him, if only a little.

 “I don’t understand how clueless you can be!” He snapped, moving back over to the pool table and leaning against it, his arms crossing over his chest while his eyes remained glued to you, searching for something you couldn’t quite work out.

 “If this has been bothering you so much, then why haven’t you said anything before now?” You let out a sigh, leaning back against the door and allowing yourself to sink down to your butt, staring up at him with a mix of curiosity and frustration. You simply couldn’t understand why he had called you in here, if it was to fight about something so stupid, then you wanted to know so you could leave him to his temper tantrum.

 “Because I wanted you to do something about it. Not because I interfered but because you wanted to” He explained, his voice surprisingly calmer than before, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

 “If I said something, you’d just fix it to please me and that isn’t what I wanted” He added, pushing himself off of the pool table, slowly making his way towards you; though his height was even more intimidating from your current position on the floor. Something you had never considered before now.

 “Are we done?” You looked away as you spoke, avoiding his gaze as best as you could, afraid of what he might notice if he stared for too long; it was the last thing you needed right now.

 “No. We aren’t done.” He let out a quiet sigh, holding his hand out to you, offering you a hand up that you probably needed since your knees were already starting to hurt. Not that you would admit to that aloud anytime soon.

 “Why? What have I done now?” You pouted as you grasped his hand, a slight squeal escaping you when he pulled you up to your feet suddenly, causing you to fall into his larger body; though he was kind enough to steady you so that you didn’t fall back down to the ground.

 “Started a game” He chuckled as he spun you around to face the pool table, his large hand lingering on the small of your back; even going as far as to give you a gentle nudge in the direction of the table. It seemed he wanted an actual game of pool.

 “You’ve got to be kidding me…” You trailed off as he walked past you, reaching down to pick up the pool cue you had dropped earlier, holding it out towards you until you took it from him.

 “Does it look like I’m kidding, (Name)?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow as you smacked the pool cue into his arm lightly, enough to show him that you were kidding around; hopefully enough to mitigate his anger.

 “Shut up and take your shot” You huffed out, looking away as he flashed you a grin, moving to line up his shot on the pool table. As much as you hated to admit it, Taishiro had been right in a way, you probably should have been upset that everyone assumed you were the new girl; but at the same time, you were fine with how things were.

 Avoiding Taishiro had been your only means of escaping your feelings for him.

   “You never did say the reason why you were avoiding me.”

   You frowned as you moved towards the pool table, making quick work of the balls before stepping back away from the table, trying your best to avoid looking at him in the most casual way possible.

 “(Name). Answer me…” Taishiro grabbed your arm, gentler than before and pulled you back towards the pool table, pressing you up against it while he moved to stand in front of you; caging you in by placing his hands against the table.

 “I did too, you even responded…angrily but you did” You mumbled softly, chewing on your bottom lip while he leant down slowly, his lips inches away from your own. Apparently, he wasn’t going to go away until he got what he wanted.

 “The truth, baby girl. I want the truth” He clarified, chuckling quietly when he noticed your reaction to what he had said, though you got the feeling he knew it was because of the sudden nickname. One he hadn’t called you in years, not since you had first joined his ‘family’.

 “And if you say it was the truth, I’m going to skip the pleasantries and drag it out of you the hard way” He warned, his voice low and serious, making you squirm beneath him, not quite used to this side of Taishiro. At least, you weren’t used to the real Taishiro being like this, the Taishiro of your fantasies was similar, actually, if you were being honest the Taishiro of your fantasies was even more intense.

 “…It…wasn’t a lie?” You whispered, mentally kicking yourself at the fact your words had sounded more like a question than a statement, well aware that Taishiro would pick up on that. He was not a stupid man.

 “(Name). Look at me.” He instructed firmly, making you gulp and peek up at him nervously, his heated gaze stirring up several emotions you would have preferred to have left buried.

 “You’re lying…” He paused, reaching up to brush his thumb over your cheek gently, distracting you just enough so that you didn’t register the fact that he had dipped his head just enough to capture your lips in a deep, demanding kiss.

 “And I’m sure you’re aware of how much I hate it when people lie to me” He chuckled, biting at your lower lip before leaning back, watching your face as you tried to process what had just happened.

 “That…isn’t the reaction I’d expect from someone who hates being lied to” You mumbled, still wide-eyed from the kiss, your fingers moving to touch the lip he had bitten. You weren’t quite sure what to think, but one thing you did know was that you liked it.

 “I’m sure” He reached up to stroke your cheek tenderly, grinning the moment you dropped your fingers away from your lips, quickly stealing yet another kiss from you, slower than the first; even allowing you to move your arms around him, pulling him closer.

  ~  ~ ~  ~  ~

    You let out a quiet moan as you allowed Taishiro to bend you over the large pool table that occupied his game room, your simple and modest dress already hiked up to your hips with your favourite lacy panties around your ankles. A sight that you were certain had Taishiro aching to be inside of you, especially with how the last time you tried this ended up.

   “Dripping already, (Name)?”

   He grinned as he spoke, thick fingers rubbing over your drenched folds while you peeked back at him; your cheeks hot with embarrassment. It didn’t matter to you that he had seen you like this before, in this very same position; you still weren’t used to the idea of doing this with him. A mafia boss.

 “You embarrassed like this baby? Cause ya shouldn’t be” He chuckled as he brushed his fingers over your clit teasingly, making you gasp out quietly, anticipation your worst enemy; leaving you vulnerable to his sudden touches.

 “Well who wouldn’t be embarrassed like this?” You questioned with a huff, the last time you had been in this room with him, he had been ‘punishing’ you. The problem? Someone had walked in on the two of you; just as Taishiro was about to fill you with his thick cock and while the thought of it made your mouth water, you had no desire what-so-ever to be caught like that. Ever. Again.

   “You know, it could’ve been worse”

   You frowned as he spoke, a dangerous curiosity sparking within you. Worse? You couldn’t imagine it. The situation had been horrifying, there was absolutely no way it could have been worse in your mind.

 Before you had a chance to question him about what he had meant, you found yourself crying out his name in surprise while he pushed the head of his thick, throbbing cock inside of you.

 You were by no means, a virgin; however, Taishiro was a big man. Standing at 8’2” tall with a dick that was basically turning you into a spit-roast. It was a tight fit and even then, you weren’t actually sure he was completely inside of you yet.

 “I could’ve kept going, fucked you right here, in front of him. Made you squeal and bounce on my dick” He chuckled at the idea of it while his hands brushed over your hips faintly, his touch almost tender as he tried to figure out how he was going to do this.

 “You don’t fit me” He frowned as he spoke, moving his hands to your arse, spreading your cheeks as much as possible while he jerked his hips; making you cry out at the movement. You could feel it, you were full and yet he wasn’t inside of you completely yet; he didn’t even have to say anything. You knew that by the end of the night, he would be buried balls deep inside of you.

   “Taishiro?”

   He lifted his gaze to you at the sound of your whimper, a low hum building in the pit of his chest; he could see it already. Your concern, but he didn’t exactly let it bother him, you would enjoy it soon enough.

 “Don’t worry, (Name), it isn’t a problem” He flashed you a wicked grin, his fingers digging into your arse roughly while he pulled himself out of you slowly, starting a steady yet harsh pace.

 Each thrust of his hips had you whimpering out a moan, your entire body rocking into the pool table while Taishiro attempted to fill you completely with his dick and to an extent, it was working. Your body was adjusting to him and you were beginning to loosen around him, your walls hot and welcoming instead of tight and uncomfortable.

 It was a feeling he wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.

   “(Name), how you going? Think you can take a bit more?”

   He littered your neck in feather-light kisses, his hips still moving at a harsh pace, constantly filling you with his dick; though he still wasn’t inside of you completely yet. Not yet, soon though if his plan worked.

 “Just do it. I know what you want to do Taishiro” You moaned out, pressing against the pool table while you tried to grind yourself back onto his dick more, the movement sending a faint, stinging pain through your body and up your spine. You didn’t particularly care at this stage though, he felt good inside of you and you wanted all of him, you wanted him to be able to bury every inch of his dick inside of you and it wasn’t going to happen without a little bit of discomfort.

 “Hold on tight then” He warned, giving you a second to grab onto the edge of the pool table properly before he lifted your hips, his grip tight as he pulled out of you completely; the very tip of his dick rubbing up against your folds teasingly.

 You screamed out his name a moment later, when he pulled you back onto his aching cock at the same time he thrust his hips forwards, not stopping until you were a panting mess on top of the pool table; every inch of him buried inside of your much smaller frame.

   “Fuck…”

   You shuddered at the sound of his growl of pleasure, instead whining softly at how full you felt in that moment; it hadn’t hurt like you had expected, but it wasn’t comfortable either. Your body was slowly adjusting to the complete size of him, the only problem was that it was too slow. Taishiro was already pressing you down into the pool table, his hips moving hard and fast while he bit over your soft skin, leaving you unable to do much more than gasp and choke on your moans beneath him.

 “You know you’re mine, right?” He bit at your ear as he spoke, grunting and groaning with each thrust, the sounds drowning out your choked-out noises, yet still only just barely audible over the loud squelching of his dick pushing into your warm body.

 “You accepted me, letting me fuck you like this (Name)…you knew right? Tell me you knew” He groaned low, burying his face against your neck while his hips bucked hard, his dick constantly rubbing against your spot and making you see stars, stuttered out whimpers spilling from your lips while you tried desperately to stay conscious.

   “Y-Yes, I knew. I knew, I knew I was giving in to you!”

   Your stuttered out cries of bliss made him grin, pushing you up onto the pool table entirely while he leaned over your body, continuously burying himself into you until you were screaming out his name at the top of your lungs; your walls clamping down around him, clenching desperately as you rode out your orgasm.

 It wasn’t long before Taishiro’s hips went still, his hot seed spilling into your body while he groaned out your name, his grip on your hips finally loosening enough for him to see the light bruises he had left behind.

   “Good.”

   You gasped when Taishiro pulled out of you, rolling you onto your back so that you were staring up at him, a thin layer of sweat covering your body, strands of hair clinging to your skin and making you look irresistible.

 Taishiro was prouder than he would ever say aloud; he had been the one to do this to you, the one to turn you into such a mess.

 “Because from now on, I’m going to fuck you senseless whenever I get the chance. You’re going to be my queen and my little slut all at once” He grinned widely as he spoke, enjoying the way your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed; it was a sight he would burn into his memory.

 In that moment, you were his perfection.

[sorcererinthestars]

That Which Lurks in the Dark [FAHC]

My contribution to the @rtwritingcommunity‘s Secret Santa fic exchange. I love this exchange because it forces me to write and this year, I got a delight because I got to write something for one of my very best friends, @shadeofazmeinya! I hope you enjoy, my love! <3 

Everyone else, enjoy as well.

WC:  4583 Summary:  Sent out to Boston in the middle of the winter to make relations with a new gun-running squad, the Lads don't realize how badly this could go. Furious, bleeding, and cold, they take shelter in a shitty motel room and are forced to confront the reason they're in this mess... and the feelings that lurk in their hearts.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28073598

-

It was that kind of storm that stole breath away, tore the sight from your eyes and made you weep with the fear of it. The storm howled around their little car, made every mile treacherous and dangerous, the potential of it stopping seemed to diminish with every passing second.

Inside the car it was no less dangerous. Three men sat hunched and breathless, trying to flee where they came from and yet make it to their destination unharmed. While they were out of the storm, the atmosphere inside the car was tense, able to be cut with a knife.

Michael, in the back, is bleeding. It slips crimson red down his side, across his pants, and stains the car seat. There’s no way they could return this rental — yet another thing Gavin had to deal with when they got somewhere safe. But the road almost unpassable now, not yet plowed, and the wind continued to howl its rage into the skies around them.

Gavin shifts, gritting his teeth as he tries his best to keep his hands on Michael’s wound. “How’re you doing, boi?”

The resulting wince is enough of an answer, but Michael wasn’t one to stay silent. He huffs an angry grumble. “Fine,” he snorts. Obviously untrue, but what was he supposed to do? The blood flow was thankfully stopping, but stab wounds needed treatment — none he was going to get here. “Or, fine enough.”

“We need to fuckin’ get back to the hotel,” Jeremy growls. His whole body is fixated on the road and not on the two men in the back seat. “If you had just listened to me…”

“Don’t fucking start!” Michael snaps back, his fury igniting like a piece of ripcord. If Gavin hadn’t quickly ducked out of the way, he would have been clipped by Michael’s head as the man straightens up quickly to throw his words at Jeremy like missiles. “Don’t you dare.”

“I knew it was a trap from the moment we walked in!” Jeremy hisses. “But no, you said we still had to go like you’re the fuckin’ leader or something…”

“I AM the fucking leader of the Lads!” Michael shoots back before Gavin wrestles him back down. “Boys, boys, you’re both pretty!” he snaps. “But Michael, you’re gonna bleed out if you continue to fight like this. Sit back, damn it. And Jeremy, you’re gonna crash the damn car. We need to find a place to stop.”

Stop? Jeremy turns to look at him owlishly before having to skid to avoid an ice patch in the center of the road. “This is Boston,” he retorts. “It’s what it’s like in the winter.”

“Doesn’t stop us from havin’ a half-dead guy in the back,” Gavin shoots back. “We need to stop and deal with Michael’s wounds. And look at it! You can’t see.”

It was true. The wind was just getting worse, threatening to toss the car off the road. A full out blizzard. They would need to ditch off for fear of losing everything in a crash. The money in the back seat wasn’t remotely how much they were supposed to get, but it was something, and Geoff would be upset if it didn’t make it home.

Not to mention, probably upset if three of his best crewmates didn’t return home either. Jeremy sighs. “Fine. Google a hotel or a motel closer to here then. Somewhere that won’t ask a lot of questions if we stain shit red with Michael’s blood.”

Gavin nods, pushing Michael’s hand over so he would keep pressure on his own wound. The other shifts, leaning against the car door and pressing firmly down on the stab wound. It wasn’t critical - they wouldn’t have made it out of that damn warehouse if it was. But it was fucking painful as hell and would need stitches for sure. Michael wasn’t quite looking forward to that procedure.

With hands covered in blood, Gavin pokes at his phone, grimacing at the stains that get all over the screen. “Looks like there’s a ... Motel 6 about ten...ten-ish miles down the road. Take the next right.”

Jeremy does, the car skittering and causing them all to grab on tight with shouts of alarm. “Sorry, sorry...,” Jeremy mutters, focusing again on the road and getting traction. He had forgotten how to drive in the snow after so long away.

Michael grunts under his breath and with Gavin’s directions and Jeremy’s partially safe driving, they manage to navigate towards the motel. Its lights barely puncture the maelstrom, providing a somewhat sickly flush of yellow light against the howling winds. But it’s shelter and warmth and a bed, and right now that’s all they need.

Pulling in, Jeremy takes stock of the situation. He’s probably the least bloody of the three of them, just a few stains on his jacket that he wipes off with the back of his hand. “Look. I’m gonna go in and see if I can get a fuckin’ room or two for us. You just... wait here.”

Michael glares at him from the back seat. “Like I’m g-gonna go anywhere,” he winces sarcastically. Jeremy just grunts. He knows he looks ridiculous in his purple and orange getup, but at least he has a big black parka to throw on over it. He snatches it, shouldering the heavy material, and stomps off towards the main building.

As they watch him disappear into the storm, Michael leans back against the leather. Maybe he shouldn’t be so frustrated - it certainly wasn’t Jeremy’s fault they were stood up and attacked during what should have been a simple gun-running meeting - but the sickening feeling that he failed... failed Geoff, failed them, failed himself... still twists in his stomach.

The assignment was simple. They were meeting some east coast gunrunners who were looking to start making shipments across the USA. These guys were cheap and would be a great addition to the Fake portfolio, so Geoff had Gavin research them and then sent his Lads to Boston. They’d meet with the dealers, Gavin would negotiate a deal, and then they’d fly home with money and deal secured.

But shit went tit’s up, and well...

Gavin knocks Michael out of his train of thought by adjusting his pressure on the wound, sending another wave of pain through Michael’s abdomen. He grunts. “Just ... just climb in the back and get some bandages or some shit,” he says forcefully, shoving on Gavin’s shoulder.

Glancing out the back window, Gavin frowns. “I - uh. It’s ... well, Micoo, it’s snowing, and I don’t really want -”

“Baby,” he shoots back, but before he could make another quip, Jeremy comes stomping back. His nose and ears are bright red and his eyes are shining under the hood, which is caked in snow. He hops back into the car and hovers over the heating vent for a few breathless moments, shivering. “FUCK.”

“Cold?” Michael says dryly. “Never would’ve guessed.”

He shoots him the bird and shakes himself off. “They’ve only got one room left,” he announces. “With a King bed. Which means some of us are sleepin’ on the fucking floor. But there’s heat. And a roof.”

“Good enough,” Gavin says quietly, glancing between the two of them with a somewhat uneasy expression. Jeremy starts the car and with a bit of slipping and sliding in the snow that gathered, they make it to the space outside their hotel room. A deliberate effort between all three of them manages to get Michael out of the car, Gavin gagging a bit at the bloodstain on the seat. They hobble Michael to the door and Gavin stands, shivering and supporting Michael’s dead weight as Jeremy fumbles with the lock.

The door opens with a whoosh of warm air and they stagger inside, frantically throwing the door shut behind them with finality. It’s a basic motel room, certainly nothing fancy, but thankfully warm and clean enough. Michael sags onto the bed, holding his side with a grunt. “...ugh.”

“Ugh indeed,” Jeremy shoots back. “Gav, can you stay with him? I’m going to unload the car.” He adjusts his parka. “See if you can get some hot water going, we’re all gonna need a shower.”

The room turns into a flurry of activity with Michael as an oasis of calm. Jeremy drags their few things inside - a black duffel bag full of cash, a few guns, and that’s it. All their clothes and supplies are back in the five-star hotel they had booked, a twenty-five minute drive back into the city. It may as well be sixty miles, based on how fast they could drive and as much as they could see.

Gavin, in the bathroom, fiddles with the old pipes. He cranks the hot water on as high as it would go and waits, hearing the rattle and hiss as the pipes pull the water and tries to heat it. The first blast is ice cold, sending him skittering away like a kicked puppy as he almost gets a blast of the artic against his already cold skin. The pipes rattle and groan and the water turns very slightly less miserable.

He frowns at it and leaves the bathroom. “...gonna take a while,” he announces, “if it ever gets there at all.” Then he immediately gags and almost runs back into the bathroom to vom, as Jeremy has Michael’s shirt off and is probing the wound that weeps miserably down his side.

“I can do it,” Michael grits. “I’ve dressed my own wounds before.”

“Alone, in the middle of a heist, maybe - and I’ve seen the results of your self-stitching in all the bubbled scars on your skin,” Jeremy retorts. “Just shut up and let me help you, you whiny baby.”

Michael squeezes his eyes closed as Jeremy probes the edges of the wound before digging into his first aid kit. Thankfully, they had brought it along, figuring their meeting may involve a bit of a scuffle but never realizing it would devolve as much as it had. Controlling his stomach as best he could, Gavin pads over to sit next to Michael and watch owlishly as Jeremy starts doing what he can for the wound.

First he cleans it with strong antiseptic, to the point where Michael has to bite on the side of his sweatshirt to stop from howling and alerting all their neighbors to something nefarious going on in the next room. Then he sterilizes a needle as best he can and lays Michael back.

“No fuckin’ booze?” he grunts. “Just going to have you stitch me up stone cold sober?”

“This kind of place doesn’t have a fuckin’ minibar,” Jeremy retorts. “Just shut up and let me do this.”

Gavin elects to go check on the water as Jeremy works to clean and stitch Michael up. Despite the apparent frustration between the two, Jeremy’s stitches are neat and clean and as painless as he can make them. At least until Michael mutters a rude comment under his breath, making Jeremy tug the sutures harder than necessary. Michael gasps in agony. “Bitch!”

“Don’t be a dick when someone’s got a needle in your flesh,” Jeremy retorts calmly, tying off the string. He cleans the wound again and wraps it in clean, bright white bandages. “There. You won’t die.”

“Glad for that,” Michael says stiffly, moving so he could kind of lean against the top of the bed. Jeremy glances over to the shower when Gavin pops back out. “So...,” he says hesitantly. “There’s - uh. Really no hot water.”

Jeremy groans and goes to put his face in his hands but stops when he sees the blood all over them. Gavin weakly tries to smile. “Enough for a quick one?” he says hesitantly and then squawks as Jeremy shoulders him aside to claim the stall. He tries to close the door but Gavin shoves his arm in the way to block it.

“.... we’re both covered in sweat and blood,” he retorts. “Just share, yeah? I won’t look if you won’t.”

Both try to ignore the blooming red on their cheeks, but it’s kind of a hard thing. But what is Jeremy going to say? Neither of them could bathe in ice cold water, not tonight when it was only nominally warmer inside than it was outside. They’d get sick. And they needed enough hot water to bring Michael a cloth to sponge himself off. So reluctantly - with Michael making joking noises in the other room - Jeremy opens the door for Gavin to follow.

They undress quietly, trying not to look. It’s hard not to. Jeremy’s eyes keep flicking to Gavin’s long, lithe figure. He’s got scars, they all do, but they seem to work on him more than they do on the two brawlers. They’re smooth and slight white lines instead of bubbled, dark little things. Gavin’s skin is still tanned despite the winter cold and he’s got hair all over. Tasteful hair, though. Hair Jeremy really has to stop himself from wanting to run his hands through.

For fuck’s sake, J. Get yourself together. He frantically tears his eyes away and focuses on trying not to be caught looking. It had been a stressful night, he just was aching for a quick tug that he would have got if Gav wasn’t sharing the fucking shower with him. He just had to focus solely on not giving himself away with any ... unsavory uncontrollable actions in his nether regions.

For Gavin, he hadn’t ever really hid his attraction in Jeremy and tonight was no different. He gazes long at Jeremy’s back and the curve where it swelled into his ass. But he was too cold and tired to dwell on his thoughts for too long, instead jumping under the lukewarm spray and huddling there until Jeremy viciously shoves him out of the way.

They wrestle for the prime spot under the water for a bit before starting to focus on cleaning themselves off. Thankfully the stall was big enough that they weren’t chest to chest - this would be impossible otherwise. They dance around each other enough to get all the grime and blood and sweat off. Jeremy even offers to clean Gavin’s back of anything he can’t reach.

“.... are you and Michael gonna bitch at each other all night?” Gavin asks reluctantly as they shut the water off and climb out, starting to towel down and change back into the only clothes they got. Jeremy elects to stay in his boxers and throws his ruined bloodstained pants into the tub to try to wash them out. He shrugs a bit. “Guy’s an ass.”

“You know he’s not. You know he’s just scared.” Gavin shifts, glancing over at Jeremy where he’s pulling his tshirt back on, grimacing at how dirty it feels on his clean form. “He got stabbed to save you, y’know.”

Jeremy jerks a bit, straightening quickly. “I know,” he shoots back. “But if he had listened to me, we would never have be --”

“Are you two fuckin’ done in there? I gotta pee!” Michael slams his hand on the door and Jeremy frantically opens it to find Michael holding himself up against the wall sluggishly, having hauled his own ass off the bed and hobbled over to the bathroom.

Jeremy sighs and helps Michael to the toilet, where he braces himself on the side of the sink and gives Jeremy a baleful look. “I can do this part myself, thanks,” he says coldly, and Jeremy holds up his hands. “Fine, fine. We’ll let you pee. If it’s bloody let me know.”

They clamber out of the bathroom and Jeremy and Gavin are left considering the big elephant - or rather, bed - in the room. One bed. Three angry men. Jeremy runs an exasperated hand over his face. “I - who’s taking the floor?”

“I can,” Michael says, opening the door and hobbling forward. “You dicks can take the bed.”

“No way,” Jeremy retorts. “You’re still bleeding. You take the bed, I don’t want to risk anything getting worse. I can sleep on the floor.”

“Can’t we all just share the bed?” Gavin asks with a raised eyebrow. “It’s a King. There’s more than enough room if we squish.”

Jeremy glances over at Michael, who groans and throws his hands up in the air as best he can without toppling over. “I don’t -”

“I’ll just take the floor then,” Gavin shoots back. “You two work out your issues.” They can all hear the exasperation in his voice as he grabs a pillow and one of the spare blankets out of the cabinet and makes a small nest on the floor. “Go to bed,” he snaps. “It’s late.”

Jeremy stands a bit dumbfounded, staring owlishly at the now pile of Gavin that was laying among the blanket on the ground. “I - Gav...”

“Just fucking stop being kids!” he snaps. “Michael, you should have listened to Jeremy when he said it’s probably a trap. Jeremy, you should have left your gun inside because that’s what tipped them off and made them start shooting. But me!” Gavin’s face contorts and he sits up a bit. “Me? I should have fucking researched this team a bit more and saw a setup when one was right in front of me. But I didn’t! None of us did. But we’re alive and for the moment safe, so can you stop being such mongs and just drop it?!”

Michael’s mouth had sort of ... dropped open. Gavin normally didn’t give such impassioned speeches, particularly ones that ended with him curling back up with his back to them on the floor in a somewhat dirty looking fleece blanket. His eyes flick to Jeremy, who is looking back at him.

“I’m sor--”

“Michael, I - “

They blink. Michael turns a bit red. “Look, I should’ve listened to you, okay...”

“No,” Jeremy shoots back. “I never should have brought my gun. If you didn’t shove me out of the way, that knife that guy threw probably would have blinded me, or worse. So uh.... thanks.”

Michael nods a bit. “I - yeah. Come on. If Gav is so comfortable on the floor with all the jizz or whatever the fuck else is down there on that shit carpet, you can take the spot next to me.” He pats the bed and, chuckling slightly, Jeremy climbs in. Gavin, meanwhile, squawks a bit at the thought and shifts, grumbling. “Micoo, why’d you have to remind me....?!”

Before he could reply, there’s a big snapping sound, what sounds like a mini explosion which makes them all jump partially to their feet, and the room plunges into darkness. And cold. “.... shit,” Michael retorts, holding his side and easing back down with a pained gasp. “Transformer blew. No power.”

It’s quiet for a few moments as the cool air starts winning the battle against the now useless heating system. They wouldn’t freeze to death in their sheltered room, but it was going to get a lot colder. Gavin whimpers a bit and pulls his blanket closer to him as Michael adjusts and pulls the covers up and over him and Jeremy.

“....guys?” Gavin’s voice is small. “I ... I know I just yelled at you, but... it’s cold...”

“Oh, get up here,” Michael sighs. Jeremy nods and moves to make a small warm place for Gavin to slip into. He leaps to his feet and clambers over Jeremy to nuzzle between the two of them, dragging his blanket over them all.

For a moment, they just lay there, squished into one bed and breathing into the cool, dark room. Under the covers, Gavin shivers a bit and his hand finds Jeremy’s, latching onto it. Surprisingly, Jeremy squeezes it and holds it close.

“...you guys okay now?” Gavin asks softly. A beat and then two communal noises of affirmation from the other two boys. Michael moves a bit to get himself upright, hissing in pain, but pulls Gavin a bit closer to him. There’s something a bit possessive in the gesture.

“I’m sorry,” he says to the room, to the faces he can’t really see. “I - I almost lost you both because... because of my stupid fuckin’ decision and I...”

“Micoo,” Gavin purrs a bit, stroking his face with a blundering hand, as he could just see shadows and shapes in the dark room. But Michael’s eyes still close at the caress, loving the touch of Gavin’s hand against his skin.

“Me too,” Jeremy admits, turning. His eyes glint in the bit of light they had through the window and Michael meets his eyes. The silent apology is obvious. He snuggles closer to Gavin and they all hunch a bit tighter. More for skin contact and touch than for warmth.

Gavin’s the one, in the end, that starts it. He squirms a bit, sandwiched between the two, and holds them close - his two burly boys. One hand drifts a bit too far over and brushes against Jeremy’s crotch. Clothed in only his boxers, Jeremy gasps and shivers at the sensation, unable to stop himself.

No one can see the smirk that arrives on Gavin’s face, but he turns and Jeremy knows the expression despite not being able to see it. “Just sleep, Gav,” he retorts, a bit strained, but no chance now. “Michael... Jeremy likes being in the bed with us, Michael.”

“Shut up, Gav.”

“I think he’s just being grumpy because he secretly loves us and doesn’t like it when we all fight,” Gavin whispers conspiratorially, playfully, to Michael, who chuckles. “Don’t tease him, Gav.”

He grins down at Jeremy, squirming closer to him, but doesn’t realize when a spark kind of ... ignites behind Jeremy’s eyes. He grabs him and yanks him closer, so Gavin’s kind of on top of him and looks down at him breathlessly. “You’re a little shit, aren’t you?”

Gavin giggles a bit. “Mm. Maybe. You’re just a very pretty boy, Jeremy.” He just likes to see the smile on Jeremy’s face, despite the fact that it was almost too dark to see. Michael next to them just watches with an amused look ... that turns into shock as Jeremy yanks Gavin down and seals their lips together.

If Michael was shocked, that was nothing like what Gavin felt. He tugs back for half a second in surprise and Jeremy immediately goes to let him go before he’s surging back down to kiss him deeper. Gavin had wanted this from the very first time Jeremy appeared on the doorsteps to the Fakes, a bag in one hand and a gun in the other, demanding a job.

“Shit,” Michael grins, face red. He wants to turn more but can’t, gasping again in pain. “Don’t... ah! Don’t leave me out of the fun.”

Two heads pop up, just shadows. “You?” Gavin says brightly. “Michael?” Jeremy whispers. “Are - I mean... we just...”

“You don’t think I take a stab wound for just anyone, do you?” Michael says dryly. “Now give me kisses, you dicks, before I have to demand more. I’m currently the invalid, you have to help me feel better you know.”

Gavin’s squeal of pleasure is all he needs, clambering as safely as he can over Michael so they could get the man comfortably between them. Gavin’s lips are very soft. Michael had always imagined them to be so, but it was one thing to use his imagination and another thing to taste them for himself. He tries to pull Gavin closer, but the move hurts and he gasps into the kiss making Gavin pull back.

As soon as he does so, Jeremy is stealing a kiss. It’s rougher than Gavin’s. As if Jeremy’s trying to apologize or make him apologize through a simple kiss. Michael does what he can to push back into it without much control of his ab muscles, meeting rough lips with rough lips.

What he doesn’t expect is Gavin’s hands on his hips. Wrapping around him and jerking. Michael’s eyes fly open with surprise and he jolts, pain and pleasure combining in a spasm. “Jesus, Gavin!”

“No good?” Gavin says quickly, retracting his hand. “I thought - it’s been a stressful night and Jeremy... and you.... “

“No, no, no...,” Michael gasps against Jeremy’s lips before he pulls away. “Very good. Very good. Just - are you sure you...”

“Before we go down this road too much, I need to remind you two that Michael fucking has a hole in his side,” Jeremy cuts in. “Nothing too crazy, please.” But he says it so easily and its so dark Michael can’t really see faces but there’s just such quiet longing in Gavin’s tone, in Jeremy’s, that he can just fall back on the bed and gasp a bit. “We’re idiots.”

“Hmm?” Jeremy asks, chuckling. “How so?”

“Yelling at each other when we were worried instead of doing this,” Michael mutters. “This is much more fun.”

Jeremy laughs. “Sure is.” Then he bends back down to kiss Michael again as Gavin kisses above his wound and gently runs his hand up and down Michael’s length.

In the end, it doesn’t take long before Michael is bucking into Gavin’s hand and gasping. Jeremy and Gavin follow him through to the end and curl up next to him, pressing kisses on both cheeks. Michael closes his eyes, a sleepy breathless mess, pain still intense but more manageable with two warm bodies next to him.

They may be lost in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of thousands of miles from home. They may have no power and not be able to see each other’s faces, and maybe thats’ why things escalated the way that it did. Maybe. But all Michael can think about now was that he had his Lads in his arms. And they were safe, at the end of the day, despite all the fear he held that made him lash out.

He’s hurt, but they’re with him. And they’ll stay with him until the bitter end.

And that’s all he needs.

[ververa]

In Her Kiss

So, the anon said: billie dean x reader, reader is billie's assistant and they're flying to some haunted place but the reader is terrified of flying and billie offers to sit next to her to help calm her down, she's usually a strict boss but she has a soft spot for reader. when the flight takes of the usually calm and shy reader begins to have a panic attack, strongly gripping billie's hand and cry. billie is a bit surprised of how much pain this is causing the reader but tries to do everything in her power to make her feel better, like let her cry in her lap or kiss her to distract and ground her( bc she's lowkey into her and reader of course has a fat crush on billie). little angst with lots of fluff pls🥺

A/N: I absolutely loved this idea and I did my best to write is as good as possible. Also this song kinda made me think of Billie Dean and inspired me, and bc I was looking for something suitable for over 6 hours, I’ll just put it here as well.

Thank you so much for the request! Hope you’ll enjoy it <3 

Words: 2.087

Billie Dean Howard x reader

You had always known that living a normal life wasn't for you. You found everyday routine boring. You looked at other people and thought to yourself that it wasn't how you wanted to live. You wanted something spectacular. You wanted to do something important. Experience things that other people were afraid of. You wanted to explore and learn.

That's why you started studying paranormal activities. You didn't necessarily know what you'd do after graduating, but you didn't care. You enjoyed it and that's all that mattered. You were one of the best students in your group and they even offered you some help with getting PhD. The only thing you had to do was to spend some time being around something or someone that actually  had something to do with paranormal activity. Luckily for you your father knew the person, who helped you get to the one and only Billie Dean Howard. Getting to work with her was like a dream come true for someone like you. Of course at first it was mainly because of your PhD and your inner curiosity, but it changed when you met her.

Billie Dean was a very demanding and rather strict boss. It was hard to manage her chaotic, a bit hectic schedule and life or keep up with all the paranormal things and thereby satisfy her. The pressure was enormous at times. That's why most of her previous assistants lost the job after a month or two at best. But there you were - working for Billie for almost 6 months and doing just fine. Her film crew was even joking that you broke the record and set the bar high. 

But you just really liked Billie. She was not only incredibly charming, but also sensitive and empathetic. The first time you saw her you were immediately smitten. Though you knew very well that your relationship would remain strictly professional. But you were still happy that you had a chance to be around her at least.

 You absolutely loved your job. It gave you opportunities to develop different skills and get a lot of experience. It was tiring, of course, but you aspired to be the best assistant Billie Dean had ever had. And you were. Everything was perfect, until one day Billie told you to book plane tickets, because you were leaving for filming new episodes of her show. 

You really like traveling, especially with Billie. You just hated being on the plane. You were so terrified of flying that the thought of it itself was enough for you to get anxious. There was no way for you not to go since you were Billie’s right hand and the only person, who was able to organize everything the way she wanted. 

“Miss Howard, this one time I could work remotely” you said as you were on your way to some interview 

“Y/N, you know it’s impossible. I need you there with me” 

“I can manage everything being here” you kept trying to convince her

Billie stopped and looked at you.

“I don’t get it, why going there is such a problem?”

“I…” you hesitated, you weren’t really sure how to tell her that you weren’t afraid of ghost, but flying caused you panic attacks “I just don’t like flying” you confessed 

Billie frowned. For her going there wasn’t just about work. She hoped that spending some more time with you would help her understand her feelings or rather figure out your feelings. Billie couldn’t deny she had a soft spot for you. You were always there for her, often staying overtime just because she was exhausted after a long day at work. She found your shyness incredibly adorable and kind of admired how calm you were - even at haunted places where you had to go with her. Billie Dean had always been pretty talkative and most people found it annoying after some time, but not you. You were always intently listening to her, willingly giving her all your attention. And she just loved it. She liked how everything seemed to be so simple when you were there helping her. At first she tried to be professional. She tried to convince herself she didn’t like you that much. Though it changed completely after you visited the Cortez. You were the one who took care of her and helped her calm down after the incident at the hotel. And just then, as you held her in your arms, she realized she wanted more.

Ever since then she was attempting to flirt with you. She was doing her best to show you that she, in fact, was interested in being someone more than just your boss. Yet you seemed to be oblivious to all her efforts. It was quite frustrating, but she wasn’t the type who give up easily.

“It’s only about 4 hours on the plane… It’s not that much. I really need you there” she gave you her best smile, but you were too stressed to pay attention “Y/N, I believe in you. You’ll be fine. And if it makes you feel any better I can sit right next to you in case you need someone to help you calm down”

You looked at her biting your lip. You still weren’t really convinced, but as you looked into her brown eyes you couldn’t say no, so you nodded.

“Great!” she exclaimed “Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of you, just like you take care of me” she beamed 

You tried to smile, but you failed as the anxiety was slowly taking over your mind and body.

For the next few days Billie made sure to keep your mind occupied, so that you wouldn’t worry about the trip too much. She practically made you go with her everywhere. She took you to an expensive restaurant, where you had dinner and even convinced you to go shopping with her - hoping it would help you relax at least a little bit. It did work, as your mind began thinking about the way she acted around you instead of the flight. Yet as the day of your departure arrived you were a nervous wreck again.

You kept working of course - checking if everything and everyone were ready. You knew there was no turning back and you wanted to do it for Billie, but you still couldn’t help all those negative feelings.

As Billie saw you at the airport she began feeling guilty for making you go. You were so pale and seemed as you could faint at any time. How she wished she could save you from all that stress.

“It’s going to be okay” she whispered to you as you were looking at the plane “Don’t worry” Billie kept talking as you were getting on board  “I’ll be right next to you all the time” she added as you took your seats 

You nodded inhaling sharply. You could already feel drops of sweat forming on your forehead, as you buckled up. You looked outside the window and stared at the wing for a few minutes. You paid no attention to anyone or anything. You tried to focus on one thing hoping it would help you stay calm.

Billie observed you carefully. All she wanted was to know if you felt something for her. Making you stressed out so much definitely wasn’t her intention. She frowned as she saw your hands clenching both armrests of your seat.

“Oh, honey, you can hold my hand” she said already taking your hand into hers 

You turned your head at the sudden touch of her soft hand. You faced her and as your eyes met Billie felt how her heart hurt at the sight of the tears in your eyes.

“Y/N, it’s okay. Everything is okay” she kept repeating 

You could feel how your chest was becoming heavier and heavier as the plan started taking off. You closed your eyes, squeezing Billie’s hand. Your heart was pounding and your breath became shallow. You tried to breathe deeply, but you felt like you couldn’t get enough air and so you started panicking. 

“I can’t. I can’t… Billie I can’t” you kept repeating shaking your head

“What? What you can’t? It’s okay, Y/N”

“It’s not… I can’t… I want out... ” your voice was cracking as the tears started flowing down your cheeks 

Billie looked at you concerned. She didn’t expect it to be that bad. Actually, at first she thought you were exaggerating and being dramatic, but after a few minutes she realized that it really was causing you a lot of pain. 

“Shhh” she pulled you closer “You’re okay, honey. We’re okay. It’s okay, I’m here” she embraced you in a tight hug “You’re doing great. You’ll be alright” she kissed your forehead 

“No. No. No. Please, please, please… I can’t be here. I want out… Billie, please” you cried 

“Is there any problem?” asked a flight attendant, who just approached you

“No. There’s no problem. She just doesn’t like airplanes” Billie explained 

“Oh Lord… I hate it. Why did I agree to go with you?” you kept talking “Ughhh. I fucking hate it. Why did you make me go?!”

“Y/N, you need to calm down, because they may basically kick you off the plane”

“Good! I want to leave” you said, still not looking at her “I’m so stupid…” 

“Y/N, for God’s sake! I need you to calm down”

“I-I can’t”

“Just breath, sweetheart. Come here” she pulled you even closer than before, so that your head was partially resting on her chest “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that”

You inhaled sharply and tried to do what she said. You kept your eyes closed and did your best to focus on her heartbeat.

“You’re okay, I’m okay, we’re okay” she said calmly, brushing your hair 

“I t-think it works…” you whispered 

“Thanks God” she breathed a sigh of relief “Will you open your eyes?” she asked after a while

You shook your head - no.

“Why?” she wiped the tears from your cheek with her palm

“I don’t know...  I don’t want to see…”

“You don’t want to see people, the plane or me?”

“All of these”

“Oh” Billie bit her lip looking at you 

You were sitting straight, you were a bit calmer, but still tensed.

“Can I do something to help you relax?”

“I don’t think so” you said clenching your hands in fists 

“Can I try at least?”

“I really appreciate the effort, but I doubt anythi-” you didn’t manage to finish, because her lips collided with yours 

The kiss was gentle and short, too short. You wanted more, but Billie pulled away. You opened your eyes only to see her smiling at the sight of the bliss on your face.

“I… umm... “

“What, does that feel good?” 

You nodded making her chuckle.

“And did it do the trick?” she smirked 

“Well, you could do it again just to make sure”

Billie laughed leaning in to capture your lips one more time. The second kiss was more passionate, though you still couldn’t get enough of her. You had dreamed of it for so long. You would most likely straddle her lap and keep making out if it hadn’t been for the other passenger.

“Geez, could you take it somewhere else?” he complained 

At these words, your usual shyness was back. You blushed profusely and sat straight not looking at Billie or anyone.

“You’re so cute when you get shy” she said putting a strand of your hair behind your ear

You looked at Billie and bit your lip. You weren’t sure what was going on between the two of you.

“I’m sorry I made you get on the plane. I didn’t realize it’s that bad” she said

“It’s fine” 

“It’s not. I just wanted to spend some more time with you and figure out if there’s any chance that you like me as much as I like you”

“Wait. You’re saying that you like me?”

“Yes” she admitted 

“You know you didn’t have to try this hard? You could just tell me… without making me get on this goddamn plane” 

“Well, this definitely isn’t anything like how I imagined it... ”

“So… what is it between us?” you asked hesitantly 

Billie Dean smiled caressing your cheek before kissing you once again. You smiled against her lips. All that you wanted to know was in her kiss. And that for sure was the best answer you had ever got. 

Tag list:

@midnight-lestrange​

@natasha-danvers​

[innittowinit]

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children  (chapter 22)

Fic summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:

It's wednesday. Eret was still plauging on their mind's and yet they still had to meet up with the Dream Team

Chapter word count: 2123

AO3

Something just.. wasn’t right.

They had shown up invited this time, had made extra sure they weren’t being threatening (he hadn’t even brought his nerf guns!) and had watched multiple videos on how you're supposed to treat your friends and still, the ‘sleepy bois’ were acting like they didn’t want to be here.

Or maybe it was like 2/4 of the brothers who didn't want to be there. Techno and Wilbur were both acting off, very off. For a while, Dream had panicked that this may have been their fault, that he or his brothers may have done something unintentionally horrible enough to completely destroy the only sembilience of trust they had - but the more he watched them, they seemed more sad than angry, more hurt than annoyed.

The first warning sign had been Wilbur snapping at Dream.

===

While watching Techno play some game about farming on his DS, Wilbur sat braiding a section of his hair. Recently he had been trying to learn from both Niki and various youtube tutorials, the action of doing someone’s hair was strangely relaxing and it often left him a little upset at the fact that he had no sisters. What he did have instead was Techno and -in his opinion- Techno’s hair was far prettier than any of the girl’s in their class.

Braiding got hard and confusing but it calmed him down, the repetitive action felt similar to how he felt while clicking on a fidget toy but slower. It kept his hands busy but he had to keep his mind active to make sure he was keeping it aesthetically pleasing, it was really just a nice way to wind down. Plus! Techno liked it too!

The events of earlier that day still plagued his mind. It hurt so incredibly much to try and accept that someone he had trusted so much would betray them so easily. Was Eret ever their friend? Was it a joke from the beginning? Would there ever be anyone who would want to actually be their friend? It sure as hell didn’t feel like it. Everybody would always say they loved them then leave, just like Eret, just like their parents.

Being with his brother helped though, it reminded him that, despite everything, he had three people who were always going to love him and have his back.

Tommy was always going to be chaotically positive. Phil was always going to be strangely parental. Techno was always going to be his best friend.

As much as he believed that blood was thicker than water, the human body couldn’t survive on it’s blood alone, it needed water too. He had his brothers but friends like Niki were unfortunately far too rare.

The comfort of being alone with his brother was quickly cut short as Dream had approached, clad in a green hoodie and a new mask. It looked hand made, like they had paper mached it around a balloon and drew on the face with a sharpie, there were also a couple stickers stuck to it but they were pretty small and looked like they were from shows that Wilbur hadn’t watched. Still though, he looked happier than the last time they saw him (that wasn’t hard to do though, he had his mask this time.)

“Hey guys” The boy had hummed as he sat down near the twins, pulling his knees up on the bench and holding them close to his chest. “Why’re you alone? We were going to play bulldog in the forest if you want to join in”

Wilbur just stared back at him, talking felt like such a hassle right now, he didn’t even want to deal with it. It was just so exhausting.

“Uhm...so you don’t wanna talk.. That’s fine uh” Dream had spluttered out, clearly not expecting such a non-response from Wilbur who was usually the most eloquent one out of the four brothers. “That’s fine, that’s cool. You don’t need to talk if you dont wanna!”

Wilbur almost felt bad. Almost. It was clear that Dream was making an effort, it was clear he was trying his best, if this had been when they first met Dream would have likely made fun of him for not talking but he had learnt from spending so much time with them that sometimes people just didn’t want to talk. As nice as it was to know he was trying to be helpful, Wilbur really just did not want to talk to anyone right now. In all honesty, he didn’t even want to talk to Techno. All he wanted was to sit silently and braid his brother’s hair.

“So uh” Dream cleared his throat, looking to Techno this time when he finally accepted Wilbur wouldn't be communicating with him. “Do you two wanna play bulldog with us? Phil and Tommy are gonna play”

Techno took one look at Wilbur and shook his head. Personally, he wouldn’t mind playing with them, making some new friends might be nice after everything that had just happened but Wilbur was just very clearly not up for talking to anyone.

Sometimes people were upset, sometimes you just needed some time to strop and get out all the negative emotions. Techno wasn’t in any position to tell Wilbur he couldn’t feel the way he felt.

“Oh? Do you want us to wait until you’re finished with your DS? What’re you playin’?”

Shuffling over on the bench, Dream tried to take a peek at the game, seeing Techno tapping quickly on different buttons as his character farmed some crops. It didn’t look too interesting but hey! He had learnt that he shouldn’t insult people for what they enjoy.

“Jesus fucking Christ Dream!” Wilbur finally snapped, pushing the boy away roughly. Maybe he was being a bit short-tempered and mean, maybe they had specifically set up this day so they wouldn’t end up fighting but god dammit Wilbur was upset and he was absolutely ready to make that everybody else's problem.

“Just go away! We don’t want to play your stupid game!”

It was clear that Dream had been a little upset by what Wilbur had said, staggering back a little and getting up from where he had been sitting. Despite the fact that neither boy could see his face they could somehow still read his expression, maybe because he was overly expressive with his body parts to make up for the covered face.

“Oh um.. Okay I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you”

Techno sighed, giving Dream a sympathetic look as if to say sorry and then giving Wilbur a bit of a stern glance, clearly upset with his brother for getting mad like that.

Wilbur didn’t care.

Techno could furrow his brows all he wanted, Wilbur was mad.

=== The second warning was a passing comment made by Wilbur.

This time, the twins had finally decided to join in with the group, it had been right after everyone else had finished playing Bulldog so they were pretty out of breath, meaning all they were doing was sitting around talking.

Tommy was leading the conversation, hopping around and pointing to all his favourite climbing places, every now and then he’d grab someone by the hand and tug them up to show them something. It felt like he really just could not be tired out. Even so, the boy was good at reading people, it wouldn’t be surprising if he was acting extra energetic because he had noticed his big brothers being upset and wanted to give them the chance to pull back from talking if they felt like it. He was young, yes, but out of all four brothers he was probably the one who was best at understanding his own emotions.

“So over there is the big dipper!” He was jumping up and down as he pointed to a large blue drop tower that was partially under the ground. “It goes up super high but then it goes into this big pit! Sometimes I like to climb to the top and sit there!”

Phil’s eyes went wide “Tommy you what?!”

George wasn’t too interested in this explanation of the rides, if he was being honest, he was just sleepy from doing so much exercise after already walking around all day at school. The boy flopped backwards into the dirt, taking off his sunglasses and folding them besides him as he closed his eyes.

It felt nice to just lay in the sun, his brothers teased him a lot for always being so sleepy (it wasn’t uncommon that he would miss appointments or commitments because he hadn’t set an alarm) but it was just so nice and so relaxing to just ignore the outside world for a moment and think. Sometimes he felt like he’d probably be good at meditating but then again his brother’s would absolutely not leave him to chill out long enough for that.

He had been expecting to be either left alone to doze off in the sun, or for one of his brother’s to tug him up and make him stay awake, what he was not expecting was for Wilbur and Techno to join him in laying down.

“The sun is nice today” Techno had mumbled as he closed his eyes, clearly getting a little more comfortable with the boys than he had been previously.

Understandably, George was shocked to hear him talking but he decided that maybe it would help if he didn’t bring attention to it and make it a big deal, he knew Dream was only able to show his face in their house if everyone made sure not to comment on his birthmark, if they did the mask was always brought back out.

“Yeah..it’s nice but it makes me tired.”

Wilbur nodded,George was right a lot of the time; it felt light and warm, unlike the humid air that had caused him to snap earlier. Honestly he felt a little bad about it, he had obviously hurt Dream and he didn’t even apologise. Phil would surely be disappointed in him if he heard about what happened.

“I don't understand why you guys are trying to be our friends” Wilbur confessed, scooching up a little closer to Techno so he could hold his hand. “I understand liking Phil and Tommy but why us? Nobody likes us. Sometimes I wish you would stop trying, I already know how this is gonna end”

Wilbur rubbed at his eyes with his free hand but it wasn’t like the other two could tell since they had their eyes closed thankfully. George wanted to object, to tell them that they did like them and that this wasn’t going to end how he thought it would but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He didn’t know what Wil meant when he said how it would end and it wasn’t like he could just tell them they were wrong about their previous experiences with people. He ended up pondering what he could say for so long that by the time he had a plan laid out in his mind it had been too long to reply and he had already unknowingly made the decision to just stay quiet.

Dream had heard him though. Dream had seen him rubbing at his eyes. Dream had noticed how he held onto Techno before talking about it.

Something was definitely wrong.

===

Eventually Dream decided that enough was enough.

Today was the day when they would finally talk it out, there should be no upset, no turmoil, no arguments, and yet here they were, upset.

At first, he had been tempted to just call them out in front of everyone but under better thought he realised that was most likely a very very bad idea. He wanted to help, not make things worse.

Instead, he just waited for Tommy to drag his brothers and Phil over to the ‘white house’, saying he had to show them around. It seemed like Techno and Wilbur were planning on staying back so really it was the perfect time to talk to them about it.

Once everyone else had left and was out of ear-shot, Dream made his way back over to the boys, absolutely ready to get yelled at again (which really he didn’t mind if it helped Wilbur feel better). This time though, he didn’t sit down; he just stood in front of them and crossed his arms, wanting them to know he was being serious.

“Wilbur. You’re obviously upset, okay? I understand if you’re mad we’re in your park and we’ll leave if you want us to but can you please just talk to us first?”

Wilbur sighed and rested his head on Techno’s shoulder.

Something wasn't right.

[snowdice]

Things You’ll Never Do (Part 4 of the Series “Is There Anything Left of Patton?”)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Virgil & Logan, Logan/Patton(?), Virgil & Patton (?)

Characters: Logan, Virgil, Patton(?)

Summary: Season change. Life changes. Patton doesn’t.

Notes: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Past major character death(?), Look it’s a zombie AU so you can probably guess why there’s a question mark after everything involving Patton. Angst. 

The fourth part of a series of one-shots called Is There Anything Left of Patton?

Previous parts:

“Something Left”

“Someone You’ll Never Meet”

Food You’ll Never Eat 

Logan glanced up as Virgil shifted on the couch next to him to pull the blanket he was wearing more securely around his shoulders. He was working on patching his hoody once more and seemed even more anxious without its normal weight around his shoulders than he had been in the past week. Logan tried to ignore him but couldn’t help but grit his teeth just a bit as he squirmed around a bit more, jostling Logan with the movement.

“It’s getting colder,” Virgil commented.

“It is,” Logan agreed, hoping that would be the end of it.

“Yeah…” The other man started to tap his foot and stopped sewing altogether in lieu of fiddling with the fabric in his hands.

Logan closed his eyes and took a breath. “We will be fine, Virgil,” he assured. He knew, of course, why Virgil’s anxiety rose as the temperature dropped. He hadn’t gone into detail, but Logan had pieced together from what he had said that his last winter had not gone well. There had been a reason why he’d been alone when Logan had found him last spring, and it was not anything like the reason Logan himself had been “alone.”

“I know,” Virgil replied.

Logan nodded and went back to his book.

“But what if…”

Logan snapped his book closed. “Virgil,” he said, and it was a good thing Patton was currently tied to the rocking chair out of reaching distance because the sharpness of his tone drew the man’s attention instantly. “As I have explained multiple times before, we have plenty of supplies for the winter.”

“But what if there’s a big snowstorm and the solar panels break, and we freeze?”

“We have stored battery power as well as gasoline for the backup generator. If all else fails, we have a fireplace and wood.”

“But then we wouldn’t be able to cool the food and we’d starve…”

“If it is cold enough that we could freeze to death, we can simply put the food in the freezers outside in the snow instead. Besides, all of the canning you insisted on doing this fall would easily get us through the winter twice over.”

“What if…?”

“Then we die Virgil,” he snapped. “What do you want from me?!” The other man slammed his jaw shut. Logan sighed. “I will go on one more hunting trip for the season if that will assuage your anxiety. You can make jerky out of whatever I bring back. However, you will need to find some activity to amuse yourself during the winter months other than overpreparing supplies else we will surely drive each other mad.”

“…Fine.”

“Very well. I will go tomorrow,” Logan said and then paused. “Do you want me to put Patton downstairs while I’m gone?” Recently Logan had simply… stopped putting Patton downstairs during the night and Virgil had yet to protest. It was likely not a rational decision, but he… didn’t like putting Patton downstairs. Logan knew logically that the distress he expressed when he realized he was being put in the cage was not true human suffering, but it still always left a bad taste in Logan’s mouth.

“Nah,” Virgil said glancing at the mentioned man still pulling at his leash. “It’s cool. Patton and I’ll just hang out.”

Logan tried not to show his relief on his face. “Very well.” Hopefully by the time he got back, Virgil will have calmed down some, or at very least, Logan would have more patience to deal with him.

  Virgil glanced through the inventory Logan had carefully written out and marked off the one can of peaches that he’d eaten for breakfast. There were still enough cans for four cans of those per week until next April, but the numbers only partially calmed his anxiety over the situation. He sighed and tried to forget it, walking into the living room and hoping to find something productive to do.

He paused in the doorframe. “Patton? What are you doing buddy?” Virgil asked. Patton was standing in the corner of the living room trapped between a potted plant and the wall like a video game character clipping. He stared at the plant blankly. “Pat,” Virgil said a little more sharply to attract his attention. He turned at the sound to start toward Virgil and promptly walked right into the potted plant, tumbling it and himself over. “Patton!” he exclaimed, rushing over to him.

He realized his mistake a moment too late. He must have moved in the wrong way or spoke with just a bit too high of a pitch because Patton suddenly went from his must-investigate-weird-object mode to attack mode. Virgil tried to hop out of range of the leash, but felt a hand grab his ankle with surprising strength considering how the zombie was usually easily pushed and pulled with the lightest of touches. Virgil’s leg was pulled out from under him and he fell. “No!” Virgil said as he was yanked backwards. He tried to find purchase on something, but all he could do was dig his fingers into the carpet. They often forgot with how docile Patton was 95% of the time, that Patton had all the strength of an adult man and perhaps a bit extra from the turning. “Patton please! I hate it when you do this!” Virgil groaned. He was pulled inexorably back by the hold on his ankles, his fingernails scrapping against the ground uselessly like a scene in an old horror movie.

Weight flopped down on top of him, a knee digging into his back. Cool breath brushed against the back of his neck and too cold fingers grabbed at one of his ears. A chill went up his spine.

Virgil flopped his forehead onto the floor in defeat. “You know,” he grumbled. “If you’re not going to eat me then WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS?” Patton’s fingers tried to find the source of the sound, but Virgil was luckily on his stomach and could easily press his mouth against the floor. That didn’t stop the fingers from scraping against his neck though. “I fucking hate you sometimes Patton,” Virgil hissed. Patton just patted at his cheeks. “Logan!” he called. “You didn’t possibly get back from your hunting trip and just not tell me, did you?!” There was no answer. Figured. Virgil pushed against Patton’s hold and was shoved firmly back down, fingers digging into his hair with renewed vigor.

Unfortunately, when Patton got like this, there wasn’t much you could do without help besides waiting and hoping. He had to lose interest in you before you could get away from him. The problem was that even if he did get bored, when you tried to wiggle away, there was every likelihood he’d just get more intrigued by you and the cycle would repeat again and again.

They went through the process a couple of times before Virgil was finally able to get away from the weird forced cuddling. He shoved back suddenly, and Patton toppled off him. Virgil scrambled away and out of the leash’s reach before he could get grabbed again. Patton rolled, confused at the sudden exodus of his pillow and got caught up in the leash. He promptly started fighting with it.

“Ugh,” Virgil said flopping on his back on the floor. After a few more moments, he stood up and surveyed the damage. The poor plant was likely unsalvageable, the pot it had been in now broken into three big pieces and a few smaller ones (he’s glad they didn’t roll onto that), and wet dirt was everywhere.

Virgil sighed. “We both have mud all over us now Patton.” He was careful to pitch his voice low. Patton barely even spared him a glance. Instead he just continued to claw at the leash.

Well, Virgil couldn’t just leave him there no matter how much he wanted to after that trauma. He edged carefully around the writhing mass on the floor and grabbed the edge of the leash, quickly untying it from the armchair he’d been attached to. Next came the game of untangling Patton from the leash while said zombie did everything he could to resist Virgil’s efforts.

Eventually, Virgil managed to get him untangled and gave a non-so-gentle tug on the handle. He stumbled forward, made a hissing noise, and tried to pull himself back the other way. Virgil dug in his heels and tugged, whistling a couple of times to get his attention.

It took probably 20 minutes to drag him upstairs to Logan’s bedroom. He tied him to the headboard of the bed. “Stay,” Virgil commanded, uselessly he knew. He dashed into his bedroom and quickly changed into a different outfit before returning.

Patton had sat on the floor while Virgil had been gone. “You got mud all over the rug,” he moaned. Well, that would be a problem for later. First… he ran down to the kitchen where the water supply was and wetted a washrag.

He did his best to wipe the mud off of Patton’s face and arms despite the way he fought back like Virgil was pouring acid onto his skin. “It’s just water, you asshole,” Virgil hissed, throwing down the rag once he’d gotten the worst of it off.

He turned toward the dresser and started rooting through the drawers a bit roughly, trying to find something in them that would be easy to wrestle Patton into. He dug through the clothing, growing more and more frustrated by the moment. He pulled out something that looked promising: a pair of sweats with some university logo on them, but as soon as he held them up, he could tell they were too small for Patton’s waist. He tossed them over his shoulder.

They made a clanking noise when they hit the floor. He paused, blinking over at the pants. There weren’t any buttons or metal on them to make that noise. Now that he was paying attention, he noticed when he reached over to pick them up that they had an unusual weight to them. He dug his hand into the pocket and pulled out an engagement ring.

Oh.

It was easy to forget sometimes that Patton wasn’t in fact some really stupid dog he had to deal with. He’d been a full person once who liked to cook and garden; in fact, the peaches he’d eaten this morning were grown and canned by his hand. He’d kept a closet full of stuffed animals despite being a fully-grown adult, and, by what Logan had said, had no shame about that fact. The truly horrendous 100-pound armchair they tied Patton to in the living room was picked out and somehow dragged into Logan’s home without his knowledge or consent by that man.

Patton had been someone who was loved so much that Logan couldn’t let him go even now, still looked at him with all of that love even now. He was a man who’d bought a ring and made plans for a future that would never come.

All of Virgil’s agitation at Patton drained from him in a moment.

“I…” Virgil said, drawing Patton’s attention to him, though he could never reach him from where he was tied up. “This is a really nice ring Pat. Nice and simple. He would have loved it.” He would have loved anything Patton gave to him. “Would you want him to have it, I wonder.” He looked over at the man, searching for an answer on his vacant face. “I think…” Virgil concluded. “I think that would be cruel, and I think that you didn’t like to do cruel things.” Virgil nodded to himself and carefully placed the ring back into the old sweats’ pocket, folded them up, and put them back where they had been in the drawer.

He much more calmly picked out a pair of pants and a shirt. “Okay Patton,” Virgil said and turned to him. “Let’s get you into something clean.”

Thanks for reading!

Ah and we finally have foreshadowing for the plot. Gee this AU moves slowly...

...

What plot you ask? Well.

Want to read more? The next part of this series is...

There are Things You Have Lost 

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 41)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 2388

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy, @carryonmyswansong, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He picked up the phone, and dialed his number, letting out a breath before Dexter answered. 

“Hello, Doctor, what a pleasant surprise.” He smirked through the phone. “To what do I owe this call?” He teased a little but it was rather odd that the other man called.

“Dexter… Something’s happened to Y/N. She’s been shot. She’s in critical care. They…” He tried to stop his tears but he couldn't. “They don’t know if she’ll make it.” 

“What! What the fuck happened?” he demanded in a low, stern voice. He was livid. How the hell had you gotten hurt and with Spencer nearby? “Start talking, Reid. Is she okay?

“I’m not sure,” Spencer defended before the tears really started to flow. “I should’ve realized they were missing sooner. You might… you might want to get here though. I know she’d want you here… When she wakes up…” The sobs started to rack through him.

“I’ll see how quick I can get there, in the meantime I need you to breathe. There’s no use getting so overworked. That won’t help do Y/N either.” He huffed out. To think that you would get hurt while her husband was around. That was never an issue when it was just Dexter and you.. “Keep me posted on her. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“I’ll keep you posted.” 

The two men hung up and after three hours, you were in your own room. You were stable, for now, but they said you may have sustained neurological damage that could lead to comatose, brain-dead, or even death. 

Spencer sat by your bedside, you were still unconscious. He tried to keep his breathing steady but sobbing continued to roll through him. He couldn’t help it. He could very well lose you and the last thing you knew was that he wanted to talk to another woman. 

“Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, the doctors told me you can’t hear me, but I’m going to try this anyway. I am so, so sorry for what I’ve put you through. I can’t… I won’t be able to live with myself if something happens to you and the last words that wer said between us were me saying I wanted to talk to Max and you thinking I didn’t love you. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I know Max is a sore spot for us and I was an iito to bring it up. It wasn’t until you said it today that I realized you’re right. The lying I did was beyond anything you ever did. The lying I did was a direct betrayal of our marriage, of our vows, and I can’t take that back. I guess, in my mind, all I saw was you had Dexter and you were so close with him, that it shouldn’t be any different for me.” He stopped, trying to catch his breath before a fresh new wave of tears came. “ But I see now  that it is very different. I was envious of your bond with Dexter, but I had no reason to be. You only hid one part of the truth about your relationship with him, and then you told me everything. As you said, your lie was a lie to cover up criminal activity.  But me… I did something much worse. I made it so you couldn't’ trust me. I made it so in your eyes, you’re no longer a priority. I can’t stand the fact that you think I don’t want you, but what else were you supposed to think? I wasn’t exactly trying out for Husband of the Year Award… And now… now I might lose you and your last thought will be you weren’t loved by your own husband… Please, come back to me. I can make this right. I will make this right, if it’s the last thing I do. All I need... is for you to wake up, to be okay.. Please… be okay.” 

That was all he could get out before the tears overcame him and he held onto your body for a long time. He had no idea how long he’d been crying, holding you, begging you to wake up. 

Later that night, Spencer heard someone nearly run into the room. He looked up to see Dexter there. 

“So much for keeping me updated, huh?” Dexter sounded irritated and winded. He moved to your other side seeing in just the condition you were in. “What happened?” he demanded in a firm tone. He was on edge, more so than he’d ever been. It cut at his heart seeing you lying there in the hospital bed like that.

“We’re trying to track down a con artist serial killer. His daughter shot at her and JJ. I wasn’t there. I was in a different garage.” 

“Jesus. Was she awake when you found her?” he wondered. 

“No,” he huffed out before crying. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Dexter asked. He could tell Spencer was partially crying from regret, guilt, not just grief. 

“We had a fight before she went into the garage. Maybe she wasn’t entirely focused… I don’t know.” He shook his head, letting his head hang and the tears freely fall. 

“Another fight? What the hell was it about this time?” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. 

“I… I don’t know if she told you about Max or not, but I told her I wanted to reach out to Max again. The next thing I know, she’s screaming at me and…” He took a deep breath… “She told me that she felt like she was being strung along, because clearly I don’t love her anymore, so she just told me to divorce her and get it over with.” He hung his head, ashamed of repeating your final words, more ashamed at how they must’ve felt true to you. 

“Of course I know about Max. She called me crying one night about the whole thing,” Dexter coolly responded. “Who do you think was there to get her to calm down?” He took a step toward Spencer. “Do you have any idea how devastated she’s been since Max showed up?”

“Yes. I know I messed up,” he said, clearly upset as he stared down at you. 

“Messed up?” He’s clearly pissed. “That doesn’t even fucking describe half of what you’ve done to her.”  Dexter jabbed a finger at Spencer. “I’m the one who's been picking up the pieces of her shattered heart and putting it back together while you’ve been out playing house with someone else.” Dexter moved back to control his urge to hit the man in front of him. “Time and time again she’s come to me feeling like nothing she does is enough to get you to even bat an eyelash at her.”

Spencer shook his head, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he gazed down at you. “I never meant for her to feel that way. It just… it didn’t feel any different. Her friendship with you or my friendship with Max. But she made me see it today… She didn’t hide your bond. I did. I hid it because I knew what I was doing was wrong. I was flirting outside my marriage. I never once saw you and her flirt, or do anything outside of what your original intent was. You two truly were just friends… But I fucked up and took it a step further with Max and I… I can’t ever take that back. I meant what I said about wanting to still talk to her. I don’t think that’s a crime to want a  friend outside of all this. But I shouldn’t have been so stupid to bring it up this soon. I just wish she would know that I’d do anything to right those wrongs now…” 

“It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than just some pretty words to get her to be okay with you. She’s tried so many different ways to tell and show you but you didn’t give a rats ass about it you went off into the sunset with you so called friend and at every turn that Y/N made an effort to be with you… you ran off to Max. What we have… our relationship from the start was friendship; we were comfortable enough around each other to be honest. Yeah you did fuck up and I wouldn’t blame her if she chose to give up especially after today.” Dexter moved to sit next to you and began slowly caress your hair. He’d hope you would wake up soon. “This isn’t something that I can forgive easily and I know she won’t either.”

Spencer fell back into his chair. “She shouldn’t. I don’t expect her to. I expect to earn her back, if she’ll have me. At this point… I don’t know. That look in her eye I saw today. She was so… distraught, so hurt. In the moment, I had no idea what to say to calm her down, but I didn’t even get a chance.” 

Dexter sighed as he watched you sleep. “She once told me that she was more concerned with you ever thinking that she was capable of being unfaithful to you, than of the truth of her killing.”

He bobbed his head in response. “I know. She told me. I believed her too. She’s never given me any reason to doubt her love for me, ever. She has to see that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix this, to keep her, to win her back.” 

Dexter nodded, letting out a sigh. “That may be a long road,” he informed. “She loves you, more than I’ve ever seen anyone love anyone else. When we talked before you found us out, she spoke so highly of you. I never saw her more pained than having to tell you the truth of what she was doing. Even through all the other case bullshit, she only had that look of pure agony when she thought she was about to lose you. She gave up her freedom, her career, everything, just to tell you, so you wouldn’t think she was being unfaithful. That says a hell of a lot to me.”

“I know,” he agreed softly, feeling as if his insides were churning without give. 

“All I’m saying is you have a woman who really loves you. I see a lot of people in my real job and my side work and I don’t see that very often. Maybe one in a million do I see true love, and I’m not even sure if I believe in it. But if I did, if it was such a thing, I’d say you two have it. You just have to pull your head out of your ass and stop fucking around with other people.” 

“Yeah, I know. How do I win her back?” he asked, tears still running down his face. 

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Just be honest with her, and tell her you’ll try harder, but don’t be surprised if she’s not willing to listen. She’s bent over backwards to get you to retrust her and understand her and you haven’t repaid the favor.”

He swallowed, nodding, realizing he was right. He might lose you, either by the gunshot wound or by his own stupid actions, and he hated himself for both. 

The two men sat there another hour before you finally woke up. You groaned, feeling as if you’d been hit by a truck. 

“Wh--What happened?” you asked, coming to. You glanced around the room, and saw your husband’s tear streaked face, and your best friend looking worried but relieved. “What are you two doing here?”

Spencer grabbed your hand and held it. “Sweetie, you lost a lot of blood. You were shot. It was touch and go, but they said it was up to you to pull through.”

“You scared the hell out of us,” Dexter said with a smile.

“Sorry,” you quietly responded. 

“It’s all good. Just don’t do it again, okay? You mean a lot to a lot of people.” He glanced over at your husband. “I’ll go let them know you’re awake, so they can finish up the tests.” He patted your left hand, stood, and left. 

As soon as he was gone, Spencer raced back to your bedside, sitting on your bed. 

“Y/N, I am so, so sorry about what happened. You’re right. You’re absolutely right. About everything. It wasn’t just about me lying, it was what I lied about. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize that. But I have now. Max will never be a problem again. No woman will ever be a problem again. I love you and only you. If you still want me, I’ll spend the rest of my days making it up to you.” 

“Spencer, I--”

But he cut you off, his mouth was on yours quicker than you could blink. His hands in your hair, tangling his fingers there. This was familiar. This fire,this passion. You and Spencer loved hard, and you fought hard. You fought hard to keep him, but now it was his turn to fight to keep you, and he was prepared to do so. 

When he let you go, you were panting. 

“I didn’t expect that,” you admitted with a smile.

“I didn’t expect to almost lose you today. I was so scared. I was so worried that your last thoughts of me would be that I loved someone else. To think I love anyone else from you is the most absurd idea you’ve ever had.” he stroked your hair and smiled at you.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t given a lot of proof to the contrary,” you fired back with a grin. 

“You will be. Just let me show you how much you really mean to me.” 

You nodded. “I will, of course I will. All I’ve ever wanted is you. I do everything in my life to keep you, Dr. Spencer Reid.” 

“Well it’s my turn to do the same, Dr. Y/N Reid.”

You smiled once more and he planted a chaste kiss to your lips before peppering several more on you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[mayquita]

The Art of (Fake)Dating (1/4)

Surprise @shardminds​ ! I’m your CS Secret Santa! I felt pretty bad for not being able to have your gift ready on time. I wanted to offer you something, so I decided to divide your gift into four parts, and here’s the first one, finally! It has been a pleasure to get to know you throughout these past weeks, I’d like you to know that you already have a friend in me. ;)

Apologies in advance because there will probably be around a million mistakes. I hope you like it despite that :)

Thanks to @cssecretsanta2k19​ for organizing the event and making sure everything worked correctly.

Summary: When Emma agrees to be Killian’s fake girlfriend she expects it to be a one-time thing. However, and despite getting an enemy in the form of an overprotective brother, she ends up becoming an expert in the art of fake dating even though she can’t stand her fake boyfriend, at least at the beginning.

Ao3 / FFNet

//

The Art of (Fake) Dating

I need a reminder, Jones. Why am I doing this? - Emma

Because you’re a good person who offered help to someone in need? - Killian

Nah, I mean the other reason, the one that really matters to me. - Emma

Are you implying that you aren’t a good person then? - Killian

Jones, keep pushing and you get nothing. - Emma

Just was kidding, Swan. I know the terms of our agreement. - Killian 

So enlighten me, I need a reminder about the reason why I’ve accepted this stupid plan. - Emma

Killian? - Emma

It’s not funny, Jones - Emma

Well, since you don’t seem especially interested, I better look for a more enjoyable Thanksgiving plan. It won’t be a difficult task, by the way. - Emma

Where’s the rush, Swan? I was just a bit busy, but I’m all yours now ;) - Killian

I’m waiting. - Emma

(insert heavy sigh sound) Okay… you get to choose the best shift. Happy now? - Killian

Ask me when we get back - Emma

Emma rested her arms on the counter and barely resisted the urge to bang her head against the smooth surface while cursing under her breath. What the hell was I thinking? Why on earth did I accept this stupid plan?

Letting out a soft groan, she put the phone in her pants pocket and straightened her back, ignoring Ruby’s inquisitive gaze.

She could barely stand the guy, for God’s sake, but that hadn’t stopped her from accepting not only to spend Thanksgiving with him and his family (and also spend the night there — seriously, what’s wrong with me? ) but do it as his fake girlfriend.

Who are you kidding, Emma? You and I know the real reason why you accepted the deal. Her inner voice seemed to be very active today, although she made an effort to ignore it trying to focus on her current task.

You know you’ll have to share the bed with him, don’t you? And obviously, it won’t be the first time…

“Oh shut up!” Great. She had gone crazy and started talking to herself. 

She felt her cheeks start to burn as she glanced around to make sure no one was witnessing how she managed to embarrass herself. Luckily, Will and Ruby were serving some customers and Robin, their boss, was in the back room. Killian Jones, the object of her tribulations, would arrive later. Although she tried, she found herself unable to prevent a flood of no longer repressed memories from starting to resurface.

Her inner voice was right. Thanksgiving night wouldn’t be the first time she shared a bed with Killian. It had all been the product of a series of unfortunate decisions taken shortly after she had moved to Storybrooke, a sleepy town in the middle of nowhere, three and a half years ago in a somewhat desperate attempt at a fresh start away from everything and everyone.

In retrospect, she should have gotten drunk, at least she would have an excuse for her behavior. She couldn’t blame alcohol, but she might have found herself in a state of transitory alienation that would have clouded her mind to the point where it seemed reasonable not only to fuck a guy she had just met in a place as mundane as the town diner but did so knowing that he lived in the same apartment building as her, although on a different floor. 

To make matters worse, that guy, Killian Jones, had also turned out to be one of her coworkers at The Rabbit Hole, the bar she would start working on the following day. Seriously? What were the odds!?

She had decided that she was going to hate Killian for the rest of her life, even though he had offered her one of the best sex sessions she remembered. But what she had hoped was a simple one night stand, without complications, in the end, had become not only her neighbor but the asshole, cocky and too sexy for his own good co-worker.

In case all this wasn’t reason enough for her dislike towards him, there was a fact that was the one that had bothered Emma the most, although she would never admit it out loud. By the time she had learned that she would have to see him on a daily basis at their workplace, she had pushed him away, holding back any possible approach on his part. Although she was the only one to blame, she couldn’t help feeling rejected in some way, since, after a couple of timid attempts and some flirtation, he seemed to have lost any interest in repeating their dalliance. Dammit!

//

“Why me and why you need to pretend you have a girlfriend?”

Emma had asked the same questions since she had agreed to be part of the farce, obtaining vague explanations or directly silence in response. However, since they were already on their way to the Jones’ house, she found herself in need to ask once more. She wanted to know the cards she played with in this stupid game.

Killian’s gaze drifted to her for a split second, but then he turned his attention back to the road, keeping his lips sealed. Emma let out an exaggerated sigh as she leaned back in her seat and turned her head in the direction of the window, feeling a sense of growing frustration settling in the pit of her stomach.

The day hadn’t started well, as she had intended to follow Killian’s car while driving her beloved yellow beetle. Killian had looked at her as if she had grown two heads before responding in a somewhat condescending tone, which had done nothing to placate her annoyance towards him.

“We live in the same building and now we are a couple, obviously we don’t need to travel in two separate cars, Swan. And don’t think for a second that I’m going to spend the next two hours stuck in that horrendous metal trap.”

At least the music resonating inside the vehicle was good enough to keep her entertained since her fake boyfriend seemed to have entered into a kind of mutism, or worse, he had decided to ignore her presence completely. This entire situation only strengthened her resentment towards him, although that did not prevent her from wanting to fuck him. Emma wasn’t sure yet how she was going to deal with those mixed feelings when they were locked in the privacy of a bedroom, presumably sleeping in the same bed and…

“Two things, love.” The unexpected sound of Killian’s voice brought her back to reality, causing those inappropriate thoughts to return to the most hidden corner of her mind, where they would remain and where they should never escape again, an arduous task when his voice alone had the ability to make her blood run hot in her veins. Gods! She hated this guy for taking control over her body without him even being aware of it. “Well, actually three.” The bastard gave her a sidelong glance, the hint of a smirk adorning his lips. But if she thought he was finally going to give her an explanation, she was wrong, since he looked back to the road as he returned to his silence.

The man was so infuriating and always seemed to have an ace up his sleeve to cause a reaction in her. On this occasion, she tried hard not to take the bait but her current situation, locked in his vehicle on the way to a somewhat uncertain destination, did not help much for her purpose.

“Come on, Jones. Tell me now or I’ll break the deal,” she snapped finally, hating him a little more in the process.

“Calm down, Swan. We still have an hour and a half left to reach our destination. You should relax and enjoy the ride, the good music and, of course, the good company.” She didn’t even need to look at him to know he was smirking again. “Maybe if you ask nicely…”

The glare she gave him seemed to be enough for him to stop teasing her. “Okay, okay. As I was saying and to answer your questions, three things. The first one. I chose you because my family had heard from you before. You know, the coworker who hates me for some inexplicable reason, but over time she ends up falling for my undeniable charms in the most classic enemies to lovers style.”

“I can’t believe you told that story to your family,” she huffed while shaking her head, somewhat surprised by the fact that Killian seemed to have the entire farce under control.

“Well, it’s partially true, isn’t it?”

“Me falling for you? Keep dreaming, Jones.”

“Always.” He winked at her causing her stomach to flop. Bastard . “But I meant you hating me.”

She rolled her eyes, holding back a biting retort. Instead, she chose to continue with her inquiries. “I know I’m probably going to regret it, but what’s the second thing?”

“Ah, that…” Emma didn’t miss the fact that he looked back at the road while his cheeks acquired a light pink hue. Although she tried to ignore it, her stomach fluttered in anticipation, making a small somersault when he looked at her again before continuing to speak. “I know how you kiss, Swan. So I thought it would be convenient if I chose a lass with whom I had already kissed previously since it would give credibility to our performance.”

So he remembered that they had kissed before… Emma wondered if he also remembered that they had done much more than kissing. She had even come to think that he had completely forgotten their night together, one of the reasons that had made her feel somewhat rejected.

“Even so, I’m entirely willing to practice to perfect our technique in case it’s necessary to carry out certain public displays of affection, you know what I mean.” The way he bit his lower lip and wagged his eyebrows at her had no effect on her. None at all.

Was he flirting with her or was it just a figment of her imagination? To be honest, he had never stopped doing it, but in the same way he did with any female who crossed his path. This time, however, his flirting seemed to have a clear intention, but it couldn’t be, right?

Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat, feeling a blush crawling up from her neck to her cheeks. Still, she felt the need to tease him back. “I also know how you kiss, Jones, there is no need to practice. In fact, there is no need for kisses at all. We will be there for less than twenty-four hours.” Before he had time to reply, she continued speaking in an attempt to divert attention. “And what about the reason for this farce?”

He took a few seconds to respond, which allowed Emma to notice a slight change in his attitude. His jaw clenched and the muscles in his arms tensed as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. “About that… Let’s say that my brother thinks I’m a total failure in several parcels of my life.” His gaze shifted almost imperceptibly to the prosthesis of his left arm. “I guess I wanted to cross out one of them from the list.”

Killian had used a nonchalant tone as he shrugged as if he downplayed his statement. His fake smile and the hint of bitterness in his voice said otherwise, though. Emma and Killian might not even be considered friends, but at least she had come to know part of his past and had even witnessed some of his lowest moments. Even so, she didn’t expect that to be something that could affect him in his relationship with his brother.

An unusual wave of sympathy for him washed over her. She was aware that Killian, like her, dragged several demons from his past. The fact that his first instinct had been to look at his prosthesis was proof of that. She was also able to recognize, despite her dislike towards him, some of his qualities. She had always admired that, despite the absence of a hand, he seemed able to get everything he set out to do. Or at least that was the impression he gave, with all that aura of self-confidence. Now Emma was no longer so sure. Suddenly, this stupid plan acquired a new and interesting dimension. She needed more answers.

“Let me see if I’ve understood. For your brother to think that you are not a failure you decided to take a fake girlfriend home so that he thinks that at least you haven’t failed in love?”

“Something like that,” he admitted reluctantly. Before she could reply, though, he continued. “There is one aspect to keep in mind, by the way. I don’t think he will dare, but I still need to warn you. My brother Liam can be a bit overprotective in addition to a pain in the ass. But since you’re a tough girl, I assume that you will be able to handle him in case he decides to have it in for you.”

Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. “Great, now it turns out that I have to play the awful girlfriend role that isn’t good enough for the little brother? Just perfect. Anything else I should know before venturing into the lion’s den?”

“My sister-in-law is the nicest person and my nephews are adorable?”

A soft snort escaped between her lips before she laid her head on the back of her seat and let her gaze wander through the window, while trying to prepare for what might happen. It might be interesting, after all, she tried to cheer herself up. Emma felt apprehensive but at the same time with some level of excitement to know not only the dynamics of that family but also to discover more layers of the mystery that Killian Jones meant to her.

//

Thanks for reading.

Since I’ve already started my winter break it won’t happen as with my other wips. I plan to post the rest of the parts in the next few days.

[in-tua-deep]

Honestly God and five and siblings goals. Also do you have any more info on that au??

(about the late addition/universe child au here ;3c)

adsfSDFGH are you kidding they would be the most insufferable kind of siblings where God and Five are consistently bothering each other and getting on one another’s nerves because they both are strong personalities that clash but at the same time if you even THINK about being mean to the other they will kill you without mercy

of course there’s being protective AND being irritating to multitask which God considers her job as a big sister clearly??

at some point Five figures out how to shift the academy like two inches to the left dimensionally speaking so that it sort of becomes something almost like how the Commission HQ was out of time but not quite?? it’s the house that when you enter you kind of feel like you’re entering a liminal space because it’s not quite in the dimension but it’s also not not in the dimension?

which is a longwinded way of saying that Five figures out how to squirm right through a loophole so God can come to their family dinners sometimes, when she wants to come

absolutely no one is sure what to do with,, you know,, God as their,,,, what? step-sibling? Like,, yeah the universe didn’t marry Reginald or whatever but she’s five’s sister and five is their brother so??

klaus just rolls with it and teams up with god to irritate five while also taking her side on genuinely everything because she gave Dave and Ben back

(“That was actually me??” Five protests loudly, because he was the one who had to fucking jump into an active warzone after Klaus ditched and grab a big old adult corpse and lug it home like does no one have ANY respect for the effort he makes?)

Five only brings up being ‘older’ than God exactly one (1) time because she immediately turns him into a 3-year-old until he manages to contact their mother to set it right (and even then she made him stay that way for a couple of days for “teasing his sister” before returning him to age 13)

“Hey how come you can change Five’s age but he can’t?” Allison asks over breakfast. No one touches the coffee pot because God made it, and it’s like black sludge. Well, Five drinks it - but he hardly counts.

She takes a sip of her tar. “Eventually he’ll be able to do it, but he’s too young right now.”

“HEY you know the conversion rates, right?” Klaus interjects, “How old is Five in universe years?”

God just kind of shrugs. “I spent my first few hundred years cradled in our mother’s arms as she spoke galaxies into being. I was probably a few hundred thousand years old when I made my first planet, and then a few hundred thousand more than that when I figured out life.”

Five is also drinking sludge tar coffee and carefully not commenting.

“Is Five a baby?” Luther asks incredulously, and he absolutely deserves the mug that is thrown at his head. He’s only fortunate Allison yanked him out of the way so it shattered on the wall instead of his thick skull, and that Vanya immediately moved to restrain Five from lunging across the table.

God, for her part, simply shrugs. “It’s a bit difficult to say. We aren’t the same as other people. We aren’t even the same as each other. One day, when we’re old enough, we’re supposed to leave our mother and become universes unto ourselves - but that’s so far into the future as to be eternity.”

Mollified, Five sits back and nods his head, because it isn’t fair to judge his age by human standards or by universe standards really.

Except then God smirks and says, “But he’s definitely younger than me and being not even a hundred definitely makes him a baby.” 

They end up just having to cut God’s visit short that day before they manage to completely destroy the kitchen. As it stands they’re going to have to entirely replace the flatware. Diego ended up just bear hugging Five to his chest and walking out of the room at one point, which Five quickly escaped and jumped back in. Klaus told Diego it was a bad idea, and so the black eye is Diego’s own fault.

honestly just the knowledge that your brother is kind of ?? a god? or a demi-god? they’re all somewhat unclear on everything

“I think I’m having a crisis of faith.” Klaus wheezes from the floor when Five finally ends up trying to explain after he does his thing so he can have God over at the house. “Are we religious? Are we supposed to be religious now? Are angels real?”

“You’ve been calling Dave your angel for literal months, Klaus.” Five points out, unimpressed.

Klaus rolls over to prop himself up on his elbows and give his littlest brother the stink eye. “YEAH. But like, in a GAY way not a CELESTIAL way thank you.”

“Important clarification.” God deadpans from where she’s sitting on the couch inspecting her nails. Allison is painting her other hand in confident strokes that only faltered a little upon finding the exact identity of the little girl in front of her.

“Does no one care about my crisis?” Klaus howls mournfully to the ceiling.

“I finished the tea.” Dave announces, coming into the room and just looking at Klaus on the floor with fondness instead of the general exasperation that’s sitting on every other sibling’s face. That’s how they know it’s love.

“That’s why he’s an angel.” Klaus sighs dreamily, accepting the cup and reaching up to pull Dave down to cuddle while Five makes a face at the blatant PDA going on in the house

honestly just Dave being super calm and just very very calmly turning to Klaus upon finding all this out and being like “Klaus, love of my life, I know you told me your family was weird but what the actual fuck.” 

And he’s from like, the old days when fuck was a really really bad word so you know it’s bad

(someone: i have questions about religion - 

god: actually i’m agnostic

someone: …

god: …

someone: but aren’t you goD -)

now i’m picturing claire coming over and having a tea party with her uncle five and also oh, god

(patrick, frantically, in the background after being filled in on all of this: what the fuck allison what the fuck)

but basically five in this au is like,, a very weak god?? because he’s a baby in terms of years and their power is supposed to grow with their years (which probably means that the universe absolutely could have interfered but it would have been a little like using a nuclear bomb to get rid of a spider in the house)

Five can: part the fabric of the universe to travel - both spatially and temporally, do some quick and dirty magic tricks like swapping two items or jumping an item to his hand instead of going to it, and speak the language of the universe - which is how he contacts his mother (it’s a little bit like yelling for your parent from across the house and hoping they’ll come closer to hear you)

God can do a whole heck of a lot more than that but she binds herself with a lot of personal rules - the chief of which is not to interfere too badly in mortal affairs because she’s a big believe in free will. And also if she tries to help one person, where does she draw the line?

(God likes Allison because she gets what it’s like to be capable of overriding someone’s free will and then choosing to not do that - even when it’s the easiest option available)

“So like, do I get my own planet?” Five asks, idly spreading peanut butter on bread as he prepares his favorite snack.

“Maybe when you’re older.” God says, just that side of condescending as she loudly clicks buttons on a gaming system she stole directly out of Ben’s hands not even ten minutes ago. He just let her have it and sat down at the table with a book and a deep sigh.

“I’ll kill you.” Five says mildly, like he’s commenting on the weather. “I’ll kill you, and no jury would convict me.”

“On no.” God deadpans, not even looking up from her game. It may or may not be pokemon. “Whatever will I do. I wonder where people go when they die. Surely it isn’t my own home dimension. Oh, the horror.”

“Don’t bring me into this.” Ben mutters, loudly flipping a page and making Five snort in laughter.

honestly i’m just picturing a whole lot of shenanigans tbh,, like not even connected series of flashes of just sort of a slice of life comedy

(“Some big sisters teach their little brothers to ride bikes.” Diego mutters, rubbing at the side of his head where his entire goddamn ear vanished a moment ago when he’d be volunteered for God to try and demonstrate something on him, “Just harmless bike riding. Not vanishing people’s fucking ears. The nerve. See if I hang around you two again.”)

Just Diego at the police station getting really frustrated with a case and being like “Hold up Eudora -” (“Don’t call me that.”) “I’m gonna call home and see if god is in, see if she knows that the hell is going on here. If not we might have to talk with Klaus, ugh.” (“Diego what the FUCK.”)

technically god has a name but it’s in like,, universe language?? it’s in starsong and not really,, applicable to human ears? the universe has a starsong name as well, and technically so does Five, which is probably why this au five was so resistant to getting a ‘name’ - he already had one

(Luther, horrified: wait when you said about being the four horsemen were you being literal

Five: don’t be silly Luther, if my sister wanted to cause the apocalypse she’d come down here and do it herself, not outsource

Luther: i am not comforted by that)

even after their first somewhat interesting meeting, god actually does get along with klaus very well - partially because his powers most directly relate with her ‘dimension’ so to speak, the one she calls home most of the time

i’m currently picturing a team up between god, claire, and five and it’s horrifying and wonderful and i’m sure causes more than one stress ulcer in the house goodness

but yes needless to say i do have a lot of thoughts about this au lmao

[claihn]

Impulse

[[ Warning: Bugs. Violence. Language. ]] 

“So... you're not mad?”   Two shadows flickered against the wooden wall opposite from twin flickering candles. The lights rested upon a table nestled against a window frame and a blanket of stars twinkled behind the glass. The familiar scent of the ocean, leather and spice blanketed Kini like an old shawl that threatened to tempt her into relaxation. This was a quiet place that was absent of confusion, muddling ideas and loud voices. “No,” A'khato rumbled. His large, calloused hands navigated a roll of bandages with meticulous precision around his sister's fingers. Her other arm was already fully wrapped with snug support that covered the entirety of her hands all the way up to her elbows. She winced when he brought a cloth, saturated in pungent minty mix, and wiped at some of the blistered lacerations. The area was then patted dry before he went to work again, little by little bandaging up her injuries. “Why?”  Kini couldn't help but whisper, biting her lower lip. Her watery blue eyes surveyed his stern features, noting how there was an edge to his expression, but it was distant. Almost satisfied. His medium-length, wild cut locks of ebony hair were tousled in various directions and the charcoal paint on his cheek was smudged to the side. His motions paused and his lips pursed at her question, until he dragged his gaze up at her with a flicker of annoyance.  Kini winced an apologetic smile and ducked her head with ears flattening sideways. Oops. “You've always been impulsive. Do better next time. This mistake could've made you useless, and don't let it slow down your work.” He reprimanded her, although his words were flat and bored sounding. He went back to navigating the bandages. The silence between them grew palpable, as was the knowledge that both siblings knew the question was unanswered. He'd given a response, of course. Yet just as A'khato could read Kini with little trouble, so could she pick up on his tells. He was calm, but he was too focused on simple motions. His tail was actively twitching back and forth.   What aren't you telling me? She knew better than to prod an agitated King. At least this time.

She had her back pressed against the warm, stoned wall of the hallway. He smelled like ale and herbs, especially as he crowded his body against hers. Pudgy, greedy hands wandered over her frame and Kini could feel his breath against her right ear. It made her flinch and she'd asked him politely to leave that side alone, but for some reason people always mistook her. Clearly she trembled because she enjoyed it. She flinched because it was sensitive. She was just playing coy.  I hate it. Her eyes were glancing past him though, and instead she absently nodded at the words he was mumbling. Something about smells and fancy clothes. It was hard to hear when he was mouth breathing against her right side instead of her left. She found herself focusing on the light beneath the crack of the doorway that led into the living room. Kini could faintly hear the deep, baritone voice of her brother along with a higher, barked voice of the woman he was meeting with. This was a job that her brother had asked her to come along as a temptation. Almost like old times, except now he thought she should be better as a “professional” distraction. Kini didn't mind. It gave her a flutter of happiness to be of use on one of his missions, even if it was a boring one without any fighting. Those were always her favorite. She enjoyed using her magic to assist him, while he killed anything that stood in his way. He was a force of nature. A force of nature that sometimes she was lucky enough to protec-no. Assist. Behold. Adore. “Fucking distracted?!” The man hissed as he gripped the top of her shoulder and gave her a shake. Kini's eyes snapped back to attention to flash him a delicate, apologetic wince. “S-sorry! I just thought I heard something. You seem very nice.” She bumbled out the words, although the stuffy man sneered in response. His fingers dug a little more into her skin, while the other scrunched up the airy, cotton fabric of her skirt and began to roughly yank at it. Once, twice and then the sound of tearing along with the painful stretch of the opposite side cutting into her skin announced the gaining success of his goal.   “Even dressed up all fancy, guess you're still just a novice whore, huh? That's fine. You're gonna be here a loooong time. Plenty of suns, moons to train you to be a real slut.”  His eyes glittered darkly and Kini felt a lump rise in her throat, even more than his pressing weight.   “N-no. I'm j-just here as my brother's assistant. When he's done, I have to leave too. I already have a jo-” Her words were cut off by a barking laugh from the man. His greasy fingers on her shoulders instead moved to her neck and he leaned into the motion. Kini acted on instinct and drew in a quick, squelched gasp before a pressured strain began to build in her face from the lack of air. “Stupid kitten. Your brother is going to die here tonight. All this is just a wasted effort and he just brought a little prize for our game. So jus-” 

The man was still talking, but the rest of his words drizzled away. Perhaps it was the frantic pounding of her heart or the pressure in her ears. Your brother is going to die. Why was it always her brother? A furrowed brow from a stranger. A clatter of knives. A bite to the neck. Desperation. Panic. A murmur of disapproval. Warm, questioning words between sips of honey-mead. Isolation. A threatened hand. I need him. My savior. My King. Don't take him away from me. Don't take him away from me. Don'ttakehimawayfromme! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HIM. Kini's eyes widened as they locked onto the man, but there was no flicker of fear. There was a heavy pause of staring into the eyes like an unhinged doll before silvery blue light spilled from her pupils to engulf her vision. She grabbed the man's arms, nails digging like a vice with a false sense of strength. The warm, pleasant air of the room plummeted like a stone and the man felt an annoying, tiny bite upon his wrist. Then another upon his elbow. Two near his hands. Two became four, four became twenty, twenty became a hundred and the biting pinpricks rapidly dominated his body. Kini stared blankly at him, ignoring the growing chill of his body as rime formed upon her own arms, harmlessly blossoming here or there upon the man's own bulbous form. He, however, stared in horror as skittering, chittering bugs of all shapes and sizes burrowed their way out of his skin. They tore through muscle, wriggling and bulging just underneath flesh. Thousands of legs tickled at every inch of him, both inside and out. They filled his lungs. They consumed his tongue. They crawled over his eyes and churned in his stomach. The man screamed, threw Kini to the side and fled to the door. He battered against it once, twice and three times before he broke his nose but managed to get it open.   A'khato and the woman inside both started from where they sat across from each other at a dining table. The man barely made through the entrance before he collapsed on the floor, spasming and spittling at the mouth. His scream was silent, skin sickly but otherwise alive even if he looked blankly to the side from his new slobbering spot upon the floor. No bugs. No blood. Only flecks of inconsequential ice. 

Kini's eyes had returned to normal and she staggered through the doorway, leaning against the frame. Her face was blanched, breath heavy and her partially rimed arms hung loosely at her sides with spidery, dark bruises along their lengths to compliment the smattering of bleeding blisters.  Yet her expression was cold and unflinching. The collapsed piece of garbage went completely ignored in favor of looking to her brother, voice deadpan. “A'khato, they're trash.”

“Do you want me to be mad at you?”  A'khato's voice broke the silence when he finished bandaging her arms. He peered up at her, searching. Kini quickly shook her head. She noticed the yellow, gold and black bracelet that he wore around his wrist. The ribbons had been carefully braided until they were thickly corded with a flat, obsidian gem nestled in the center.  She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and made a show of wiggling her fingers with a wince. “G-good as new!” He rolled his eyes and rose from his seat, gesturing to the bed. “Rest here. When you leave tomorrow, don't be stupid and bother with your bag. You can get it another time.” A'khato sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and stretched languidly a moment after. His footsteps carried him to the doorway where he paused and glanced over his shoulder back at his sister. Golden eyes narrowed into slits and a sinuous growl formed into words. “Don't do that ever again.” He left. A muffled clatter of plates announced his location in the kitchen a few minutes later. She ducked her head and found toes wiggling to jingle the bell attached to her thin anklet. He hadn't waited for the answer, but she was grateful for the mercy.  They both knew it was an empty promise to make, but even so- Kini couldn't help but capture a sliver of happiness from it. 

[namjuicyy]

The Contract - Chapter Ten

Masterlist | Requests are open.

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst.

Genre of this part: Smut, fluff, angst.

Word Count: 2.6k.

Summary: Your life is turned upside down when a contract is pushed your way. But what happens if you sign it?

Warnings: A fun little handy under the duvet, praise kink, unprotected vaginal sex, interrupted sex. This is so fucking vanilla after the last chapter.

You'd been to LA plenty of times before with the guys, and you'd been lucky enough to sightsee when you weren't needed. Though your schedule was jam-packed, it was nowhere near as bad as your boyfriends (then clients), which gave you the freedom to do as you wished, when you wished. You always stayed in the nicest hotels, as, for their safety, the company booked out the entire floor. This meant you were given luxurious five star rooms that even if you'd saved up for, it'd be a struggle to pay the bill. But all you had to concern yourself with was room service, which you treated yourself to once per hotel.

Of course, usually when you stayed in a big, comfortable, King-size bed, you were on your own. This time, however, you found yourself wrapped up in Seokjin's long arms, his clothed chest pressed up against your back, keeping you warm in an air-conditioned room.

Jin liked to wake up naturally – alarms pissed him off to no end which is why your bedroom curtains were wide open, allowing the Californian sun to shine onto your face as you woke up to the beautiful cityscape in front of you. Life couldn't get any better; waking up to a beautiful view, with one of the men you were helplessly in love with keeping you safe in his capable arms.

"Good morning, my angel." Jin cooed softly from behind you. His voice was slow and sleepy, crackling with each syllable. He pulled you even closer to him, tightening his grip on your midsection and snuggling into your neck. "Did you sleep well?"

"I always sleep well when you're with me, Jin."

He laughed. "Are you always this cheesy in the mornings? Have I not noticed your biggest flaw?"

"Oh, hush, you." You fought against him to turn around. As gorgeous as Los Angeles was, you wanted to see the face of Mr Worldwide Handsome, himself. And, he let you, allowing you to see his puffy morning face and lazy grin as he kept his eyes shut. Though, they opened when you'd settled in front of him. You booped his nose. In return he booped yours making you both giggle. Jin was soft anyway, a true gentleman, but in the morning he was particularly sweet. Partially because he knew that was the only time he'd get you to himself and he wanted to make the most of it. Partially because he just craved comfort first thing in a morning

"Are you going to kiss me, or what?" Jin asked, teasing you.

"Not with that morning breath."

He feigned offence and grabbed hold of your sides. "Kiss me."

"No!"

He continued to tickle you, ignoring your shrieks. "I won't stop until you kiss me!"

"Fine! Fine!" You put your hands on his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "There," you said when you pulled away, "are you happy now?"

"No. Another one."

"Jin." You whined.

"___! Please? Your kisses are so nice." He puckered up his lips and fought you again. "One more and I'll leave you alone. Just one more."

You kissed him, feigning reluctance. This kiss Jin made sure went on for longer, almost pinning you beneath him as he gave you the softest, sweetest kiss. "Angel." He mumbled in the kiss, not breaking it enough to allow your escape. "My angel." He pushed your thighs apart, allowing him to slot himself in between them, fully resting on top of you now. His hands wandered where they could, his hips started to grind into yours.

"Trust you to get horny from just making out."

"Yah, I never used to, you know. It's you! You've broken me. You've done things to me that I never thought possible."

Jin was the softest of the members and the most unashamed when it came to letting it show. He wasn't afraid or too shy to tell you that he loved you whenever he felt like it, he wasn't above public displays of affection and was the type to send you flowers. He and Jimin would often go halves on the biggest bouquets they could find just to make sure you would smile. And, on the most rainy and awful days, you'd guarantee there would be a vase filled with the brightest yellow flowers you had ever seen. You had no idea what you'd done to deserve such wonderful men. And you needed to let them know constantly just how much they meant to you, too. Even if some of them found your confessions too awkward to stand.

Jin didn't expect anything to come of this position. He never did. He was just happy laying on top of you and loving on you. But he wouldn't ever say no to you. Especially when all you wanted to do was please him. He was slightly shocked to feel your hand over his clothed centre, but your effort was soon rewarded with a slight groan of approval. Only to be met by his eyes rolling back into his head when you finally dipped under his pyjama bottoms, wrapped your hand around his cock and started pumping just the way he adored. Your hands were not small by any means, but wrapped around his length and girth like that they seemed absolutely tiny.

"Oh, Angel. Your hands." He moaned, bucking himself into you. "You always make me feel so good. Such a good girl aren't you?" He heard you whimper beneath him. You were always a sucker for being called a good girl. Jin discovered this accidentally when you were cooking together. He said it as a joke, he didn't expect your body to stiffen and a blush to form on your face. He shared this information with the rest of his members so they could use it against you, and oh boy, did they. In and out of the bedroom, if you did something right, even the smallest of things, they'd praise you by calling you a good girl. Hobi would even give your ass a playful smack just because it added a little extra embarrassment to the situation. Something else that was shared around the group was your slight humiliation kink. The true doms of the group were the ones who used your humiliation kink against you, which was the main reason why Hobi decided to get the entire group to fuck you just last week. He knew just how wet you'd get, and he was right.

"Angel? Please. Please let me get inside that sweet little pussy of yours." You simply nodded your consent, your voice stuck in your throat. Jin eased himself inside you, his impressive length and girth stretching you out in the best possible way. You gasped and clung onto his broad shoulders as if they were the only thing keeping you grounded right now. And, when he picked up a rhythm, you were practically screaming for him.

It wasn't until you heard voices coming from Jin's hotel room door you forced yourself to be quiet. There wasn't a knock, nor was there any kind of permission sought out. Namjoon walked into the room. "Hey, Hyung." He said. His voice was cold.

"Namjoon, k-kinda busy right now." Jin replied. He refused to stop fucking you, even while his dongsaeng was right behind him. You felt too good.

"Don't care. Get dressed. We're having a meeting now."

"C-can't – fuck – it wait?"

"Now, Hyung."

And with that, Namjoon left, not even bothering to close the door behind him. Jin rolled his eyes and pushed into you one final time before searching for something loose to hide his boner. You felt so empty without Jin inside you. He hadn't even left the bed but you missed him. "I won't be long, Angel. Promise." He got back over you and kissed your nose. "I wouldn't even bother getting dressed again if I were you." He kissed your lips, a gentle kiss that quickly turned deeper and immediately you felt Jin rocking his hips into you. "Mmm, shit. No. Can't." He stood up and turned to leave. "You're a little temptress."

"Go, go to your meeting. I'll be waiting."

You heard Jin's bedroom door close and lay in his bed listening to the total silence that had overcome the once active room. And it was to that tune you fell asleep.

"Get up."

You were awoken rather rudely by Hoseok's voice harshly ordering you to do something. Totally differently to every other time the guys had woke you up. You opened your eyes, and no sooner had you done that, you felt an item of clothing land harshly on your body from where it had been thrown. It was one of Jin's shirts.

Yoongi, "Yah, can't you just be calm? We don't know the full story yet."

Hoseok, "No but the entire fucking world does! Put some clothes on, you. Or would you rather the media see your filthy body as well as read about your fucking escapades?"

Namjoon, "Hope-ah, calm down. This isn't going to solve anything."

"What's going on?" You asked, covering yourself with Jin's shirt.

The man himself came and sat next to you, holding his phone.

___ ______, the head make up artist at Big Hit Entertainment, in a recent interview, has shed some light on what it's like to be involved with such a big band in the world of K-Pop.

The __-year-old recently opened up about her experiences being contracted to sleep with the band members, even opening up in detail about some of the members bedroom habits.

allkpop was given exclusive access to ___'s phone...

You couldn't read any more, your stomach was turning. How could this have happened? You hadn't spoken to anyone about this. Except Dahee but she would never.

You broke down in tears, curling up into a ball immediately and sobbing loudly.

Hoseok, "oh here we go with the waterworks."

Jin, "Hope-ah."

"What? She sold us out! And she knows she's up the shitter so she's trying to worm her way out of it. Look!"

"I- I didn't do it, I swear!" You wept.

Hobi, "I find that hard to believe, ___. If it was just the headline then I would believe you, but they have details about us that only you know. They have screenshots from your phone. If you didn't talk to them, then how would they know?"

"I don't know, b-but I swear I never..."

Jungkook, "Liar."

You looked up at Jungkook, who was also crying himself. His eyes were so full of hurt and betrayal, he may has well have just stabbed you in the heart. You looked at them, each one individually. They all had the same expression on their faces. They believed that you spoke to the press. They believed you betrayed them.

"I didn't."

"How else would they know, then?"

"I don't know."

"I trusted you!" Jungkook hissed. He'd found it harder to keep his emotions in check. "I loved you! I thought you were different to everyone else because that's what you made me believe. But all this time, I was just a story to you, wasn't I? We were just a way for you to make more money."

"No, Jungkook. Please, you have to-"

"I can't... I can't."

And with that, he was the first member to leave, followed by Jimin who needed to know his brother was okay.

Namjoon put the envelope he was holding on the bed, looking at you with a solemn look on his face. "Here's the official termination of your contract. We managed to persuade the company to hold off taking you to court. But if you have anything to do with us from here on in, you'll be sued immediately. You have a week to return to Korea, remove your things from our apartment and find somewhere to live before the locks are changed and you're out of our life for good. Violation of that will lead to the company pressing charges. You also need to be out of this room by two o'clock. And pay for your own flight back to Korea. I'm sorry we weren't enough for you."

Everyone left you when Namjoon said that, mainly because he'd been ushering them out of the room so you could get on and pack with at least a little bit of dignity.

You couldn't believe this was happening. Not an hour ago, you were on cloud nine, everything was perfect and you couldn't have asked for a better life. But now your entire world had shattered and you didn't know what to do.

It wasn't long until you heard a knock at the door. You ran towards it, throwing it open and weeping when you saw it was Jimin and that he'd come alone. He wrapped you up in his arms first thing, and gently pushed you inside, holding you in the doorway and kicking it shut, allowing you some privacy. "Jimin, I'm sorry." You sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Why are you apologising if you've done nothing wrong?" He asked.

"It feels like the right thing to do. You're all mad at me. Please believe me, Jimin, I had nothing to do with this, I swear."

"Right, that's all well and good, but you're cutting it a bit fine. You're supposed to be out by two, it's nearly that now."

"I don't care."

"Well you should! You've been blacklisted by the company. From here on in they're treating you like a sasaeng. Which means if you're still here by the time they come and check on you, you're done for." He looked around the room. "And you haven't even packed yet. Okay, keep Hyung's shirt. That's fine. He's not going to miss it. You gather everything that belongs to you," he grabbed your suitcase and put it on the bed, "and I'll pack it. Well, quickly! We don't have time!"

Within ten minutes you were packed and ready to leave. Still a blubbering mess, and you don't understand how Jimin was so patient with you, but you were beyond grateful. "Listen, we don't have much time." He said, looking at the clock that said 13:58. "Here's my card, get yourself a flight to Korea and wait for my next instruction, okay?"

"Jimin, I can't-"

"Don't argue with me! Just do it. I'll do some digging, okay? I trust you. I believe you. Now go before you get arrested, then deported! Go!"

Jimin pushed you out the door and ran off so he wouldn't be seen and get in trouble, too. You had to sneak around as well, just in case Big Hit security wasn't as lenient as you wanted them to be.

You did as you were told, arriving at LAX and buying the next economy class ticket out of America. Jimin believed you, and that was all that mattered. Right?

[rosalind-of-arden]

Paper and Fire Reread, chapter 4

This one gets its own post. Looking for Morgan, Wolfe, Santi, worldbuilding, whatever else. I am easily distracted by shiny objects and timeline discrepancies.

Ugh. Timeline. “brought just a year ago to Alexandria.” Ok. Fine. We can work with this. Fall technically ends December 22, 2031. So let’s say they’re in France in December, and it’s January by the time they get back to Alexandria. Add 6 months to that and we get July. Say we have a couple extra weeks in there instead of 6 months exactly, so middle of July. Bump the start of Ink and Bone back to August (it’s vague enough to work, could probably go as far back as July there), and we’re close enough to a year for this line to make sense.

Morgan is worried about Wolfe. Jess does not even think about what this means. Yes, it means that Morgan cares about Wolfe, as Jess notices. Again, suggesting a closer bond between them then Jess observed. But also: Morgan knows that Wolfe was in danger. She knows Jess is safe. Morgan is getting a lot of information. For all we know, she already knows about Thomas. She says she will have more information soon, after all.

Jess is willfully ignorant of details Morgan has fucking told him. Yes, Jess, they’re trying to breed her already. She said they would. You didn’t listen. 

Jess thinks Morgan has been hiding her abilities her whole life. Morgan told him her ability only developed after taking the Library test. Who is wrong/lying?

Second time in as many books we have had a scene involving Wolfe, Santi, and handcuffs. Remind me again why we think they have such a fun sex life?

Regardless of what they may or may not do with handcuffs in the bedroom, it really is a statement of how much Wolfe trusts Santi that he’s as calm as he is here. Especially when Santi refuses to take off the cuffs.

Based on the way this scene ends, I can only conclude that Wolfe and Santi planned this little meeting, probably making the best of bad circumstances by using the Artifex’s attempted assassination to arrange an opportunity to talk to Jess and Glain. But I think these angry outbursts from Santi are off script, as is the refusal to remove the cuffs.

I’m pretty sure this argument between Wolfe and Santi is intended to read as a continuation of an off-page fight about how to handle the danger Wolfe is constantly in, with both of them using some fairly dramatic metaphors. That said, we could totally take a darker interpretation here and say their relationship has turned abusive. The physical fight at the end of Ink and Bone, the arrest, “Tell me why I should ever let you roam around unmonitored again,” “You’ve locked me up.” This is not healthy, guys.

Then there’s the kinky little voice in my head that wants to read this as a consensual power exchange that has gone badly.

So much of what Santi says and does here points to PTSD. The extreme measures to keep Wolfe safe. The anger. The attempts to avoid topics that could be triggering to Wolfe. The irrational expectation that Jess and Glain will see Wolfe hurt and react with the same protectiveness that Santi feels. That last one is so far outside Santi’s usual strategic thinking, but it isn’t the first time he’s done it (he tried an emotional “look how badly Wolfe’s been hurt” appeal with Jess in Ink and Bone, and it didn’t work there either). He’s too traumatized to think rationally about Wolfe, and he responds to threats, both perceived and real, with anger at anything and anyone he sees as a threat to Wolfe, even Wolfe himself.

Notice how Santi starts to soften as soon as Wolfe calls him on this irrational behavior. From the cold and angry “You’re still under arrest, Scholar Wolfe” to the plaintive “Chris...” He sits down when Wolfe points out that Santi’s behavior is triggering. But he keeps going back to the anger, probably because he’s having a panic attack here and genuinely cannot stop seeing Jess and Glain and Jess’s message as imminent threats to Wolfe.

Some panic attack symptoms, along with the anger: flinching when Jess speaks to him, seeming to forget Jess and Glain are there (tunnel vision?), “His face was tense and pallid, and there was something else there - real fear, Jess thought.”

Also, the warmth of Wolfe’s smile and the gentle tone he uses. He’s not mad, even though Santi is being a total dick. Santi might be trying to hide his trauma from Wolfe, but Wolfe knows.

This line isn’t supposed to be sexy but it just is: “Santi quickly leaned forward and grabbed the chain of his manacles to pull Wolfe toward him.”

This is interesting: “I’m not insane,” he said. “I’m not on the verge of it. I may be stretched to my limits - my limits being admittedly lower than they should be.” So, if he’s not on the verge of insanity, what limit is he stretched to? I’m taking this, along with Santi’s statement that Wolfe hasn’t been himself and has needed extra protection, and Wolfe’s refusal of the gun in the last chapter, as meaning that Wolfe is borderline suicidal here. He’s not quite at the point of actively trying to kill himself, but he is engaging in riskier behavior than is normal for him, maybe even some form of self harm as well. Part of why Santi sees Wolfe as a threat to himself is that Wolfe actually is a threat to himself (and Santi’s own trauma feeds off of that).

Santi kicking over the chair and stomping off may seem like his angriest outburst yet, but this is actually a sign he’s getting control of himself again. What does Santi typically do when he’s mad at Wolfe? Walk away to calm down. Not long after this, he’s calm and quiet when he comments on the risk Jess is taking with the smuggled book.

Also, Wolfe vs. Santi. Again. What are we at, 5-0 Wolfe for on page fights? Santi never wins when they argue (or have staring contests) in front of the kids.

Ugh. Timeline. Jess read the prison guard’s journal and “hurt for days after.” He literally got this book two days ago. “Days” can mean anywhere between two days and two fucking months. Argh.

Wolfe has a good poker face. Jess thinks Wolfe doesn’t get it when Jess announces that Thomas wasn’t executed. Then Wolfe is hard to read when Jess accuses him and Santi of knowing about Thomas. Wolfe reads about his own arrest and torture without any visible reaction. Do not play poker with Wolfe.

More significant looks between Wolfe and Santi. I should be fucking counting these.

Here, again: Santi reacts to potential Wolfe triggers with irrational anger and protectiveness. Wolfe sees this and responds with warmth, but also refuses to change his own actions based on Santi’s trauma response.

Wolfe massively censors himself when talking about his past. He says that he was “made to disappear,” then jumps to “Nic was a fool and risked himself trying to find me. He nearly died in the attempt. At any rate, I was finally released.” Omitting all details of what happened to him while he was in prison. The closest he gets to saying how bad it was is “I didn’t just get out.” Partially trying to protect the kids, but also probably protecting himself. He can handle reading about the torture, but not talking about it.

More significant looks between Wolfe and Santi. And a “strange” smile from Wolfe. And then Santi just takes the cuffs off. Interesting that this happens not after Jess tells them everything he knows, but after Jess and Glain commit to helping Thomas. Why there? Assuming the cuffs were supposed to come off earlier, this is where Santi gives up on protecting Wolfe from himself and his former students. This is where Santi is convinced to go along with the rescue effort.

Santi puts Wolfe in cuffs as a protective gesture. So, so kinky, omg.

“I’ll do what I can,” he said. “But you’d best try to find another way to get the information you need.” Two ways to read this: 1. Wolfe is trying to minimize his own involvement in this and is pushing the kids away. 2. Wolfe is admitting that he can’t do this on his own and needs help. Right, you all already know I favor option 2 there.

Khalila and Dario! Not at all relevant to this reading, but still good to see them again. No mention of curls, but we do have Dario growing his hair longer. Longer than what? We do not know, and thus we can imagine literally any length we want here, I suppose. So at least there should be enough for Khalila to grab a good handful and pull. Er. Ahem. Hey, look, a Dario-Wolfe parallel, maybe? Long hair for both of them? No wonder Santi likes them both.

[keyofjetwolf]

Jet Wolf Summarizes Act 40

The manga and I kind of hate each other. This is unfortunate, but still, I’m determined to come out of this with something. Rather than spend energy on a liveblog that’s increasingly negative, I’m reading each manga act (mostly) silently, and then writing up summaries at the end. I won’t pull my punches. There’s going to be criticism and snark about the manga, either wholesale or in details. If that isn’t a thing you feel like reading, please skip this post!

Mercury is in the title, so I am of course immediately suspicious. She doesn’t actually show up until thirty-five pages in. I’m SUPER suspicious. But I get ahead of myself.

First we have to deal with Mamoru in the hospital, where he regrettably regains consciousness. The Senshi run in like they’re a) concerned, and b) were notified, both of which we know are patently untrue. So since Ami isn’t with them, I’m going to assume she had one jello shot too many and passed out. At which point Mako hefted her up piggyback and ran all the way to the hospital like a charging bull, drunkenly barreling down the street and mowing down all passersby while Minako kept pace in her wake despite drinking more than anyone, making ambulance siren sounds and also carrying Rei piggyback style who made it a point to scream at everyone to get out of the fucking way and turn and nearly but never quite fall and yell at anyone who had the gall to not possess her precognitive abilities and ALREADY be out of the way, which meant, not coincidentally, that she was yelling at literally fucking everybody.

Unfortunately the manga didn’t have that, it had this.

Yet another wasted opportunity, manga.

They get an eyeful of bodyswapped Usagi and Chibs, and conclude that Black Lady’s back, which I’m sure wouldn’t have traumatized Chibi-Usa in any way. Talk talk, recounting last issue, Ami enters! MERCURY DREAM!

Oh, not yet, she was just late, despite the Senshi otherwise all consistently arriving at the same time always. She says they should get Usagi and Chibs checked out, and she called her mother to look at Mamoru, too. Speaking of, Ami’s mum enters. She looks, creatively, exactly like an older Ami.

I guess hairstyles are hereditary after all. NOW YOU KNOW.

Ami’s mum finds nothing wrong with Usagi and Chibs, and I can only assume that includes the fact that Chibs is a sixteen year-old girl impossibly squeezed into a ten-year old’s clothes, SERIOUSLY WHY DON’T USAGI AND CHIBS AT LEAST EXCHANGE OUTFITS CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW UNCOMFORTABLE CHIBI-USA IS

I MEAN THE UNDERWEAR ALONE NOT TO MENTION WITH THE SKIRT SITUATION

SHE’S WEARING SUSPENDERS WITH NO BRA YOU GUYS COME ON SOMEONE PLEASE GET THIS CHILD ACTUAL FITTING CLOTHING

Anyway, Usagi and Chibs are medically fine, but Mamoru has “shadows over the lungs”, which is apparently so unusual that the doctor “has never seen anything like it”, and I’m just sitting here UHHH MAYBE GET THIS GUY AN ONCOLOGY REFERRAL RATHER THAN LET HIM WALK OUT WITH A VAGUE PROMISE TO SCHEDULE A FOLLOW-UP SOMETIME MAYBE

Of course this is probably the same hospital that let Mamoru walk out with a ten year old child for whom he has no parental or legal guardianship and despite her suffering from cardiac arrest and no blood flow, SO CLEARLY I AM EXPECTING TOO MUCH OF THE MEDICAL STAFF HERE AT FUCK YOU HOSPITAL.

Chibs decides to try and trick Ikuko, so she goes home and pitches Luna-P at her. It works! I can’t even be surprised. She goes up to Usagi’s room, and rather than, I dunno, CHANGE CLOTHES, she thinks about how Mamoru said she was pretty and ughhhghgh. The Pegabell accidentally falls and instantly summons him, and someone really needs to tell Pegasus to let the phone ring a couple times because desperaaaate.

Pegasus says he can sense this is a bad spell cast on her by “someone”, but he refuses to answer any other questions, proving that no matter the continuity, Pegasus will never be helpful and needs to fuck off.

“I won’t tell you anything at all whatsoever, not about me or the enemy you’re risking your life to fight, but trust me, okay? PS: GIVE US YOUR POWER PRECIOUS”

One thing I will say is that Chibs immediately is like “I GOTTA TELL EVERYONE PEGASUS SHOWED UP AGAIN”, so while this is super jacked up, it’s not SuperS jacked up, so I can avoid screaming about everyone neglecting Chibs while she’s being secretly groomed by a fucking magical ungulate, and yes, I WILL take my small mercies.

Meanwhile, Usagi’s hanging out with Mamoru, who is intensely weirded out by the fact that Usagi is now a child, which I have to say that I was more than a little concerned about given the Chibi-Usa stuff.

Hm, this is twice in a row the manga’s not exceeded my expectations in a negative way.

OH GOD SOMETHING HORRIBLE IS COMING ISN’T IT

Well certainly Mamoru angst is coming, and jesus fucking wept. “I’M SICK I’M DRAGGING YOU DOWN PERHAPS WE SHOULDN’T HAVE A FUTURE TOGETHER”. And while fundamentally I’m fine with this conclusion, dude, you’ve been ill like A DAY, maybe take some Nyquil and calm your shit. And while I could maybe appreciate this from a flipping of stereotypes to have Mamoru the one so uncertain and worried, given how EVERY OTHER FUCKING PAGE OF THIS MANGA is about lifting Mamoru up and making him critically important, it reads less like a reversal and more Takeuchi grasping at a reason so she personally Usagi can remind us how wonderful he is. These plagues of doubt only work if something ever happened for him to be doubtful ABOUT.

Anyway, Chibs walks in and sees them (specifically she sees ten year old Usagi kissing an unconscious Mamoru but I can’t you guys I’m so tired) and she has a thought.

A THOUGHT I KIND OF FEEL YOU SHOULD HAVE HAD BY NOW CHIBS I MUST BE HONEST WITH YOU

She thinks about how her dream is to become an amazing lady and meet her own prince, and then we cut to Pegasus and then I threw up everywhere. BUT JUST IN CASE YOU NEEDED A PARALLEL TO DRIVE THE POINT FURTHER HOME, Pegasus is thinktalking to Mamoru and apologizing for not protecting him, because they’re trading positions now you see like Usagi and Chibi-Usa with the bodyswap and blaaarg. I much preferred all this last arc, when Mamoru was like “Huh I feel like I just married Chibs and Hotaru, THAT WAS WEIRD.”

Meanwhile at Ami’s house – YES AMI ACTUALLY APPEARS OVER THIRTY PAGES LATER – she’s up late doing research on the Dead Moon Circus. She pauses for a moment to have a really nice flashback with Pluto:

Sweet, huh? ONLY IT’S NOT A FLASHBACK IT’S A BRAND NEW SCENE AND WHAT’S MORE IT’S A BRAND NEW SCENE THAT DOES NOT FIT WITH WHAT WE JUST READ LAST FUCKING ARC.

You guys know me. You know I fucking LIVE for Senshi moments. But the Outers spent THE ENTIRETY OF LAST ARC actively avoiding the Inners. THAT WAS LITERALLY A PLOT POINT. You can’t work so hard to sell them as separate teams unable or unwilling to come together until the climactic final moments of the final battle and then turn around and pretend that Ami and Pluto were hanging out every weekend trading cool links and writing Perl applets. And it can’t have happened after, because as soon as they learned they’d gotten a baby out of the deal, the Outers fucked off before the dust had even settled.

I realize I should just be happy I’m getting anything at this point, but I’m ACTIVELY IRRITATED that this is being painted as something that was there all along when you know and I know that Takeuchi hasn’t been able to scrounge up two fucks to rub together about the Senshi before this point, let alone them interacting in any capacity that didn’t have Usagi at its center. OWN YOUR TERRIBLE DECISIONS DON’T STARVE ME AND THEN ACT LIKE YOU’VE BEEN SERVING ME STEAK DINNERS FOR THE PAST SEVEN MONTHS

Not to mention how it makes exactly zero sense for Ami to be all wistfully missing Pluto.

WHEN DID YOU EVER AMI WHEN DID YOU LITERALLY EVER

Which brings us to Part Two (through fucking Ten, I’m so angry) of why this pisses me off: it attributes whatever accomplishments Ami has had to this point TO A MENTORSHIP THAT LITERALLY NEVER EXISTED UNTIL THIS MOMENT. This Act is ostensibly about Ami learning to trust and believe in herself and blah blah blah THESE ARE NOT PROBLEMS MANGA AMI HAS BEEN WRESTLING WITH. Manga Ami hasn’t been wrestling with ANY problems, because Manga Ami has all the characterization of my partially-filled Papa Murphy’s punch card. But at least she could own whatever tiny moments of achievement she managed scrap together for herself out of this dismal fucking story that barely remembers she exists. BUT NO. Now she has to be smacked back five steps just to watch her walk back to where she started and call it development.

Jesus fucking WEPT I hate the manga.

All right, let’s blast through the rest of this since it means literally nothing. Ami begins to feel ~a stirring~ or whatever, prepping for her end of episode power-up. Her mum finally comes home at 1am and laments that she’s not a very good mother, but seems to make no actual effort by the end of the story to change that, so yeah, I guess you are. Ami zones out partway through to tell us about her father, who was an artist who fucked off to paint fish or something.

Blah blah bad guys, blah blah Fish Eye and PallaPalla will go after Ami because they’re blue.

Next day, Ami goes for a walk and spontaneously buys a fish, as you do.

Oh no it’s really Fish Eye, who could possibly have foreseen this?! As Ami falls asleep, she begins to have a nightmare where her mum brings a new man home and disowns her. Then she becomes her younger self, and her dad doesn’t want her either. Then she sees Usagi, Mamoru, and Chibs (though bodyswapped as they currently are, wtf Ami) and imagines Usagi saying that when she’s with them, she doesn’t need anyone else.

Not a single bit of this I feel is unreasonable for Ami to be really worried about, I have to say, but since no part of this has come up before now and no part of it will come up again (PARTICULARLY LOOKING AT YOU, NIGHTMARE USAGI), it has all the staying power of a foot cramp I had once, inconvenient and a little painful in the moment, but over and forgotten five minutes later.

Ami realizes none of it is real and tries to break free, only to fall through a mirror and begin talking to herself, only tiny.

Tiny Ami says Bigger Ami should remember her real dreams and not give up. “Yes, there are so many people I love and who love me”, she says, LITERALLY THINKING OF ONLY SEVEN PEOPLE TWO OF WHICH ARE HER PARENTS BECAUSE REMEMBER WHEN AMI HAD TO USE NARU SHE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE A SINGLE TERTIARY ACQUAINTANCE WE CAN PRETEND SHE CARES ABOUT

My favourite part of this though?

IT’S A SHITTY LIST AND MAMORU’S STILL NOT ON IT

Ami goes on to say that her real dream is to become a “full-fledged soldier” (okay) and protect everyone. This triggers her power-up, and also a talking doohickey.

I can’t help but notice we’ve increased our talking inanimate objects by about 500% lately, and I’m wondering if Takeuchi was on massive amounts of painkillers.

I wish I were on massive amounts of painkillers.

“Mercury Aqua Rhapsody”, Ami breaks the mirror, and frees her mum from the nightmare. But she apparently still can’t actually do anything of real combat importance, SURE AM GLAD YOU’RE A FULL-FLEDGED SOLDIER NOW AMI. It takes Chibs and Usagi running in (Ami called Usagi earlier) and transforming – triggering the end of their bodyswap – to attack and kill Fish Eye.

Because Usagi and Chibi-Usa are here, the story is instantly handed back to them. Usagi’s awesome awesomeness is just so bloody awesome that Chibs is like “Oh man, I must not be this Princess who can help Pegasus, it’s probably Usagi.” So she calls and tells him he’s got it wrong, to which he’s “Oh? Weird, but okay. So heyyyyy, other Princess, s’up?” Which upsets Chibs and she runs off.

KEEP RUNNING CHIBI-USA

KEEP RUNNING AND NEVER LOOK BACK

[tap-dat-agent]

Who Knew? (2/?) Merlahad

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

“How?” It was a rhetorical question. Eggsy didn’t give a toss, not really. All that mattered was that Merlin was alive, albeit concussed by bodily trauma, lying out in infirmary before the two-way mirror of an adjacent observation room.

Still, Whiskey was eager to explain the how and Eggsy stood beside himself with eagerness to listen.

“Turns out those robotic dogs weren’t just a gimmick,” she began, addressing the intel on her clipboard. “Poppy was invested in some heavy robotics, bionic weaponry, and artificial intelligence research and development. We found evidence of operations with a skeleton crew of scientists and tech engineers.”

“Evidence, what, like they checked out?” Eggsy grimaced. “We didn’t kill lab coats.”

“All recon suggests they were given orders to evacuate during the fray, either that, or they took advantage of the confusion and escaped,” she sighed, looking up from her computer report to glance at the unresponsive body of her former Kingsman counterpart.

“What’s all this got to do with Merlin?”

“It’s partially why he’s still with us today,” she continued. “Merlin had the good sense to put on one of our ballistic-resistant under-armor suits, mitigating the full impact of the detonation, though he’s maintained serious trauma to the major organs.”

“Right—what’s the other part?” Eggsy cut in, his glower threatening permanence. His jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists at the mention of the damage done. In that moment, as his eyes obsessed over visible signs of Merlin’s recovery, Eggsy maintained no doubt in his mind about killing Poppy. Overdosing her hadn’t been an accident at all, not then, not now, not ever, and the thought of her dead and dead again still wasn’t enough to satisfy the slither of vengefulness about him.

“We have reason to believe someone pulled Merlin out of the debris, saved him from bleeding out, out there.”

“Who?”

“Unknown,” Whiskey confessed, her eyes similarly glued to the sight beyond the two-way mirror. “Someone capable of reversing complete organ failure and equipped with enough surgical and bionic expertise to refit his lowers extremities with electromechanical prosthesis. Merlin was on an operating table in better shape than anyone could have hoped for when we found him. Whoever patched him up did good work before they fled… Hey.”

Whiskey lowered her clipboard.

“Merlin’s through the worst of it.”

“Bollocks,” Eggsy breathed. “If that were true, he’d be awake.”

“Maybe,” Whiskey countered, “but I have faith he’ll come around, Galahad.”

“Eggsy.”

“What?”

“That’s my name,” Eggsy elaborated, offering Whiskey a more responsive glance than he’d spared anyone sans Harry since their arrival. “It’s Eggsy.”

“Elizabeth,” Whiskey said, catching his gaze, and a subdued but sincere smile outshined her overly poised demeanor.

They looked back through the two-way mirror together. The room was all white walls and brightly lit, a bare-bone patient room usually reserved for recuperating Statesman. Eggsy liked them well enough but more apparent to him was a developing association between the state of Kentucky and therein finding Kingsman’s own fuck out of commission. If it meant none of Kingsman ending up checked out before a Statesman observation suite ever again then never coming back would be a small price to pay.

In the absence of such an ultimatum, Eggsy remained unflinchingly unmovable in monitoring Merlin. The medical equipment embellishing his comatose state made it look as every bit as horrifying as Whiskey’s debriefing had made it sound and a deep dark ache in Eggsy’s chest swelled with a familiar sensation. Eggsy had felt this before, this guilt, this sense of burden he managed to place on the people in his life. He learnt it real young, from the helplessness of doing nothing to stop his step-dad from tossing his mum about, from the inability to protect himself or his baby sis from the man’s wrath, or the disappointment of having lived up to everyone’s low standards of him before becoming a spy.

Eggsy could count the number of people who had faith in him on the digits of one fucking hand. One had sacrificed his life to save Eggsy’s, because of his cock up, while the other believed his low-life existence had been worth saving at all. Merlin’s tall stature now encompassed the full span of a hospital bed while Harry, with his equally lengthy build, now pooled out of a visiting chair within an arm’s length away from Merlin, the latter sleeping off jetlag and copious amounts of prior alcoholic consumption.

“I should report back to Champ, update him on Merlin’s condition,” Whiskey said, looking from Merlin and Harry to Eggsy. “If you guys need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, love.”

Whiskey saw herself out and, after that, there was nothingness. Eggsy found no relief in solitude, a pursuer of company and comfort at heart, but the distant sound of business as usual offered him some relative peace. The Kingsman tailor shop front still lacked the movement of a secret organization deep within its modest facade, given that only two of Kingsman’s acting agents and a handful of their staff had seemingly survived Poppy’s missile attacks. Missions came down from private inquires and matters outside Statesman’s political purview. Everything back home felt as dead as everyone they’d lost.

Eggsy dropped his shoulders and sighed. He raised a hand to wipe at eyes knackered with grief and a lack of closure. His last conversation with Tilde had taken place while on the flight over and yet the words they shared felt like ages away from his recollection. The temptation to take a leaf out of Harry’s book and pass the fuck out in some nearby chair nearly overcame him when he thought he saw Merlin’s right pinky twitch.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

Eggsy rushed out of the observation room just as Merlin’s neck muscles tensed up, so eager to see the older man awake that he hadn’t even thought to alert Whiskey before storming the patient room. The sound of the door flinging open jostled Harry from sleep and he made quick work at righting his less than pristine posture before looking to his old friend with what might have been surprise and relief.

“Merlin,” Eggsy said, beaming, making a conscientious effort not to bum-rush the man’s bed. Would he know who they were or would he have amnesia, like Harry had, making for an even more difficult road to recovery? Would Merlin still be the same man given the trauma of his injuries? Either way, his condition came off as too fragile to test with the force of his earnestness. Eggsy held back, letting Harry take the lead, the man’s tentative movement to sit closer the only observable measurement of his excitement at seeing Merlin wake.

Merlin, his eyes still adjusting to the light of the room, looked from Harry to Eggsy and produced a tired smile.

“Aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes,” he croaked. “You lot look like shit.”

“You’re one to talk,” Eggsy scoffed, already looking forward to the back-and-forth between him and Merlin that which he’d grown accustomed to.

“Hamish,” Harry greeted, as still as stone.

“Harry,” Merlin said, his gaze sharpening. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise.”

Eggsy looked between two, puzzled as fuck.

“Is that it?”

“Eggsy, would you give us a moment?” Harry asked, but Eggsy knew an order from a superior when heard it. Harry looked Eggsy once over, truly a wrecked to behold, and mustered up the most unquestionable reason for kicking him out of the room. “Notify our Statesman colleagues that Merlin is awake and fully cognitive.”

“You haven’t had me recite the alphabet backwards yet,” Merlin japed. “How would you know?”

“Yeah, sure,” Eggsy agreed, departing with mild resistance. He walked away elated, relieved, and astounded, but it was the elation and relief he’d chosen to take away from the last minute of his life. His shit-eating grin stretched from ear to ear as he exited the room and re-entered the observation room to notify Whiskey. “Galahad.”

“Whiskery here,” the intercom sounded.

“Merlin’s awake.”

“…Roger that. I’ll be down soon.”

Eggsy moved away from the intercom installation next to the door to stand before the two-mirror again, watching as Merlin and Harry uttered muted words to each other. Harry remained zealously unreadable, the placement of his hand against the bed no real indication of what they were discussing, but Merlin’s eyes had softened. He appeared calm and compliant, trusting of Harry’s presence as if he’d known he’d been there all along, and Eggsy realized he’d seen that look in Merlin’s eyes before he just hadn’t known what it was until now. Harry spoke and Merlin listened with rapt attention, like a follower would a leader, ready to take any and all revelations at face value. Harry had a command over Merlin that transcended the authority of military ranks and chain-of-command. Merlin looked to Harry like a man waiting to be seen in a different light.

Eggsy couldn’t resist.

Before the window view sat a table fitted with a touchscreen panel display at its center. It allowed for an assortment of room controls and optical adjustments like dimming lights and augmented-reality displays detailing the current health status and medical history of the occupant, respectively. When Eggsy activated it, the whole of it splashed across the glass substrates of a screen layer as a reflective filter lit up his side of the two-way mirror. Eggsy dialed up the other room’s volume level until he could hear the tail-end of Merlin’s response in crystal clear fashion.

“…my legs?” The man grazed his hands over the sterile sheet and blanket covering his body, spreading his fingers out against the outline of his thighs. His eyes darted down as he investigated what was there while realizing what wasn’t. “I thought I’d lost some weight.”

“This is serious,” Harry frowned.

“Clearly. Your expression hasn’t changed.”

“Would you rather the prospects of your injuries fill me with utter delight?”

“I’d expect, at the very least, you’d be happy I’m alive.”

“I am happy.”

“Mm,” Merlin nodded. “I can tell.”

“I’ve kept your pips, for safe keeping, if you’re looking to gloat.”

“If my sacrifice acted as a catalyst in saving the world, I think I can afford a bit of humility.”

“I’m inclined to confirm otherwise, if only to knock you down a peg.”

“A bloody shame then that someone beat you to it.”

Amazing, Eggsy thought, arrested by their banter. An uncomfortable silence followed, as the gravity of Merlin’s jest descended upon the room, and Eggsy thought he saw a flicker of indignation beat against his brow. Harry fidgeted, a thing the world did not know him capable of, nudging his one-eyed glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“These prostheses you speak of,” Merlin continued, a bit more serious like, his voice growing stronger with use. “Where are they?”

“In safe keeping,” Harry divulged, sitting back and crossing his legs as he settled into his comfort zone. “A medical evaluation will be conducted by Statesman staff. They will determine if you are even fit to leave this room. You’ll attend physical therapy, shortly thereafter, at which point you’ll be reunited with your new appendages.”

“You make it sound like I have a choice.”

“I assure you, you don’t.”

Again, Eggsy thought, ‘Amazing’. Harry and Merlin fell into another bout of biting the urge to share barbs, but the quiet didn’t feel as troubled as before. On the contrary, Merlin watched Harry like a familiar comfort as the other man eyed him with weary ease.

“How’s Eggsy?” Merlin asked, and Eggsy momentarily thought to reconsider his eavesdropping. Then he remembered just who it was he was eavesdropping on, the once in a fucking lifetime opportunity of catching both Merlin and Harry unawares and in candid conversation, and decided fuck all to repercussions.

“Better, obviously, now that you’re awake,” Harry replied. “He’s taken the nature of your presumed demise as well as anyone of his disposition would: personally.”

“What about you?”

“I helped kill the woman responsible for your presumed demise, saved the world, and shed a tear in private.” Harry’s face split into its first smile in some time and, even then, it was sandpaper thin. “What of you?”

“Other than missing limbs?”

“Yes.”

Merlin shrugged, or rather, managed the closest approximation to a shrug.

“I’m a bit peckish, everything hurts, but no worse for wear.”

“Glad to hear it,” Harry said but even Eggsy, not the savviest at picking up on the intents of others, sensed words left unsaid by both parties. “You fucking lunatic.”

“Fuck's sake, Harry,” Merlin exclaimed, brow screwing up, the other man’s outburst a genuine surprise.

“Oh what the fuck, Harry,” Eggsy breathed, looking on as if about to have a row with a telly like his mum.

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized, his tone unapologetic, “but there were dozens of ways we could have disarmed that land mine.”

“Dozens of ways and no time to try one,” Merlin countered, “and you and Eggsy needed more time.”

“We could have made more time, Hamish.”

“That’s not how it works, Harry,” Merlin said, his voice receding, the disappointment in his eyes palpable. “There’s always the mission, always, remember? The world doesn’t kneel to sentiment—we do what’s necessary.” Merlin moved to rise from bed, exhausting what strength remained in his struggle to command atrophied muscles. Harry went to assist him without prompting, catching his shoulders to steady his ascent. Merlin settled for resting on his forearms but Harry remained perched over him, no longer of use and at a loss with what to do with himself. Harry’s hands lingered, resting upon Merlin’s shoulders, and Merlin appeared unfazed by this arrangement. “I thought you, of all people, would have lauded my decision.”

“I suppose I would have,” Harry conceded, earning a questioning look up from Merlin.

The door flung open as Whiskey entered the patient room.

“Merlin!” she exclaimed, her greeting punctuated by joy and an air of agency. Whiskey quickly read the room, her smile as smothered by an underlying disturbance as it was the cheerless culmination of Harry and Merlin’s reunion. “Welcome back.”

“’s good to be back,” Merlin said, smartly. “Ginger.”

“It’s Whiskey, now.”

“Oh really?” Merlin cocked his head, visibly impressed. “Well done.”

“Thank you.”

“I guess some things have changed.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Merlin,” Eggsy said, now as if talking back to a telly like his mum did with her soaps.

“I hate to break up the reunion, fellas, but we’ve got a problem.”

“Oh?” Harry removed his hands from Merlin’s person.

“Champ wants you and Eggsy,” Whiskey locked eyes with Eggsy and nodded, inadvertently giving up his secretive presence and alerting the two men he’d been spying on to the whereabouts of his now petrified being, “in for debriefing.”

“What kind of problem?” Harry had to ask, his one-eyed stare expertly determining Eggsy’s position and piercing him to the core.

“The kind of problem we might have caused by killing Poppy.” Whiskey tucked her clipboard under one arm. “Let’s go.”

[unplacedpodcast]

Chapter Six: Moratorium (Transcript)

Apologies for the delay in posting! I was at PodCon all weekend and it’s been a bit wackadoodle since I got back. As usual, spoilers below. 

Note: This episode has content that might be disturbing or upsetting for some listeners, specific content warnings are underneath the cut.

Content warnings: alcohol/binge drinking (at the beginning of the episode), suicide (towards the end of the episode)

(ding of audio recording starting - when Narrator starts speaking, she sounds very rough, has clearly been crying and possibly drinking)

NARRATOR: How…how am I supposed to know what’s real and what’s not? I’m so tired. I’m so tired of trying to figure it out. This is all scary, and confusing, and I’m so lonely…if this is purgatory, can I just go one way or the other now? I’m sorry for whatever I did that stuck me here. I JUST WANT TO GO HOME! (voice breaks) I’m sorry, okay? (whispers) I’m sorry. (sniffles) Why am I even doing this? It’s not like anyone is listening anyways.

(click, pause, then ding of audio recording starting again; Narrator sounds much more chipper now, though still not 100%, and sounds a little sheepish when she starts talking)

NARRATOR: Hey. So, uh, sorry about that. I’m leaving it in for…journalistic integrity or something…but also because I’m not entirely sure anyone is listening, so why waste time editing out embarrassing drunken episodes of depression? (bitter laugh)

I’m also only working with one hand at the moment, so I’m trying to keep unnecessary typing and clicking and audio editing to a minimum. As you may have gathered, my little experiment didn’t go over too well. I thought I was hurting it, at first - it recoiled and there was a big crater in it, along with some gross sizzling noises, but then it…attacked, around and through the hematite, and hit my hand, and…yeah.

(sharp intake of breath) It hurt like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. That was a week or two ago and my hand is still covered in something resembling chemical burns. But it’s…it’s not as bad as it was. I don’t think there will be any permanent damage, especially because I’ve been making sure to stretch and move it as it heals, even though that’s pretty much excruciating. But at least I shouldn’t lose any range of movement.

Let me tell you, fighting off the urge to faint on a public sidewalk, and then making it back to wherever home is for the night, and then having to peel off strands of stone that are practically fused to your skin, and figure out treatment, all while completely alone…not in my top ten favorite activities. If I can be frank with you, not in my top hundred activities.

I should make a t-shirt to commemorate this whole hellish experience. “I punched a brain leech with shitty homemade brass knuckles and all I got was this lousy t-shirt! (…and also these burn scars!)” (snort)

Anyways, after that whole experience, can you blame a girl for hitting the bottle a bit? If nothing else, I needed some painkillers, because the ibuprofen was not cutting it.

The whole experience taught me something, though: I don’t care any more. I don’t care how curious I am about what’s going on, or how much it annoys me that I have no idea what’s going on, or my growing uncertainty about whether I’m actually a complete basket-case or not. Not my monkeys, not my circus. (pause) Maybe partially my monkeys, but I can definitely ignore the circus.

I don’t even know if those things are evil. It could be a totally symbiotic relationship, right? For all I know, those things are the barnacles of the brain, and like, give these people ideas or something. I just assumed they were up to no good because they look like something out of a Ridley Scott movie.

So if you think about it, I’m probably the bad guy here, just assuming that something has bad intentions because it looks like a parasite from Geiger’s nightmares, and then following it around and harassing it. Well, my bad, I learned that lesson and I’m never messing with one of those fuckers again. I’m just going to keep my head down for a while, at least until my hand heals completely.

Given the lack of paranormal PI shenanigans planned for the foreseeable future, I’m not quite sure what’s on the agenda for our time together today. I guess we’ll find out as we go along.

(muffled noise, audio dings off then turns back on again in a coffee shop with all of the background noise)

One big downside to this whole invisibility thing is that I can’t order coffee any more. I even tried using a pre-order app and it just continually glitches. I used to just hover around until someone ordered a drink close enough to what I wanted and swipe it when it came up. But the last time I did that, the barista got yelled at by an angry soccer mom with the “can I speak to your manager” haircut. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to cost someone their job just because I want my espresso.

That means I either have to swipe a cup and fill it with hot coffee, or do the same thing with iced coffee, or buy the pre-made stuff from a grocery store. I swear. My kingdom for a hot mocha with coconut milk and no whipped cream.

First world problems, huh? (laughs)

It feels good to joke about it, though! I knew this whole keeping my head down thing would work out better in the long run. I feel better already.

(Narrator sips on coffee and leaves coffee shop, the background noise shifts to be that of a busy street - cars in addition to people, etc)

What now? Maybe I’ll go shopping. I’ve been neglecting my look, because it feels a little weird paying attention to what you’re wearing when nobody else can see it. If you put effort into your personal style but literally nobody is physically able to observe your personal style, do you actually have a style? File under, “more philosophical quandaries I’d never thought of before a few months ago.”

If I’m trying to get back to normal, then why not? I’ll just take only one or two things from each store, so that no one person is going to take all the blame.

In fact, maybe I’ll experiment a little bit! I was always afraid to try anything too far outside my comfort zone before, but if there was ever a time to try new things, it’s now. I don’t have to worry about whether it’s work appropriate or not. I can do whatever I want with my hair and my clothes. It’s another small upside of this whole ordeal.

I just have to - wait. There’s one of those symbols I told you about - I said I’d stay away from the monsters, but the symbols…I’m still curious about them. And I haven’t seen anything that indicates that the monsters - I mean, the totally non-malovolent worms - have been painting the symbols or even would be able to create them. I’m totally okay to check this out, then.

(footsteps as NARRATOR walks down an alleyway)

I think I’ve seen this one before - the same design was near the library, but that one was smaller. I - hello? Hi? Are you looking at me? You can see me?!

(muffled sounds of movement as NARRATOR starts running, is panting and bumping into people in the crowd)

NARRATOR: (panting) I lost her - there was someone standing by the symbol, maybe she just finished painting it? She was looking right at me - I don’t know, the loneliness could be playing tricks on me but I swear to god she looked straight into my eyes, nobody has done that in weeks… (pause for panting) When she realized I was looking back at her, she looked entirely freaked the fuck out - she started running and I couldn’t - I couldn’t catch her.

There’s a big crowd up ahead, she disappeared into it, I think. I have to find her!

(sound of running/moving faster, pushing through a crowd)

Holy shit. The woman who could see me isn’t here, but - there’s someone else, standing on the bridge - oh no. No no no. She’s on the bridge, she’s standing on the railing, and she looks like - oh god, she’s gonna jump. Maybe I can -

(more sounds of movement)

HEY! NO! Stop!

Wh - I think she can hear - shit. It’s the woman from the other day in the psychic’s shop - with the hematite necklace. I think she can hear me, she started when I yelled - hey, can you hear me?

(her voice is shaking but trying to stay calm and soothing, like she’s talking to a wild animal) C’mon, get down, you don’t have to do this. I can help - I’ll help you. C’mere, it’s okay. I promise it’ll be okay.

Yeah, yeah, just come over here, it’ll be fine. I promise, it’ll be -

Nononono! NO! Shit shit shit, no - no…

(someone in the crowd/background screams, Narrator is crying, obviously v upset by this)

Oh my god. She…(sniff) she was coming towards me, she looked super out of it - her eyes were all glazed over - but she had started to get off the railing, and then she - jerked? It was like the leech thing - it’s like it was moving her like…a puppet or something - I don’t (retches/coughs) I’ve never - people don’t move like that. She didn’t want to, she looked like she was trying to fight it - the look in her eyes - but she couldn’t - she - and the thing sort of, it disconnected itself and slithered down, and she looked back at me one more time and then she jumped. There’s no way she survived - she’s got to be floating in the river somewhere. I don’t - I can’t…

(audio recording cuts off)