#their silent thunder matches mine chapter 2

[thebiggerbear]

Their Silent Thunder Matches Mine Chapter 2

A/N: I rewrote this chapter so many times, trying to get it just right. Sorry if it isn't that great but hopefully it's not too bad.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: implied sex

Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @rieleatiel

Series Masterlist

Cassie jerked awake, halfway opening an eye. There was an incessant pounding inside her skull and since when had the sun ever been that bright? God, how much did she drink last night? She tried to remember but it made the pounding that much worse so she gave up on it for now. She’d think about it later when it didn’t hurt so much. 

As her senses quickly returned, she realized what woke her when she heard the ringing of the alarm on her phone somewhere nearby. She closed her eye and groaned quietly. Her hand shot out and she felt around for the offending device on her night stand, only to have her fingers meet empty air. She slowly lifted her head and opened her eyes as much as she could. No nightstand. That was odd; maybe she crashed on the other side of her bed? 

Before she could think on that too much, the continued ringing reinforced the need to find that ridiculously loud phone. Everything was still kind of blurry but she forced her eyes open wider and sat up, holding the bedsheet to her apparently naked chest. So she slept in the nude last night, great. Thank God Kai hadn’t woken up before she did and walked in on her like this. 

Once her vision cleared, she glanced at her surroundings. This was not her bedroom. Nothing was in the right place, it was too small, the blinds were the cheap kind she hated that never kept out the sunlight when you wanted them to, the cowboy hat hanging up on the makeshift hook on the wall was not hers, the trailer beyond that was not hers, and— Her eyes widened. A trailer . It was obvious that she had not gone home last night. Not to mention she was incredibly sore like she had gotten one hell of a workout. And she was in a goddamn trailer! She only knew of one person who owned an Airstream with a sparsely decorated interior that suspiciously looked like this one. Sure enough, her eyes landed on a framed picture of Emily from one of her middle school years on the wall, her bright smile on display as well as a full set of braces. Cassie’s jaw dropped as flashes from last night suddenly came back to her in a rush. 

As she predicted, the cute guy from the pool table made his way over to her and offered to buy her the beer she just asked for. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Beau ushering an eager Jenny out of the bar, neither of them looking back. She gave the guy a megawatt smile and accepted his offer, ordering a second beer when the bartender placed her first bottle in front of her. She tipped the drink to the guy’s and when they both took a long pull of the carbonated liquid after he said he appreciated a beautiful woman who could drink, Cassie considered accepting his offer to go home with him later on when he would most likely stop beating around the bush and just outright ask her. And while his hair was dark, his eyes were the wrong color, there was no gruffness or twang that escaped when he spoke, and he had no beard to speak of, she could make do. This was reaffirmed when Cassie said she wanted to dance and he was all too willing, even giving her money to use for the jukebox and telling her to pick a good one. She gave him a coy smile and did just that, more than happy to let loose and not think about anything else for the rest of the night. The only thing she had to remember to do was text Denise and make certain that Kai could stay with her for the night. And one glance at the guy’s smile when she returned to him and he held out a hand to her to lead her to the spot on the floor where others were dancing had her pretty sure that she would be sending that text very soon. 

They had been dancing, her holding onto him as tightly as she dared and his hands were now resting on the seat of her jeans. She had worked hard to keep the fleeting images of the undersheriff actually being under the sheriff in his trailer out of her mind, tightening her hold on her dancing partner whenever they tried to come back and take root. She had shared a few dances with this guy already, but Cassie was reluctant for them to end. His cologne was the wrong scent but if she kept her eyes closed most of the time, she could imagine he was someone else. It was an odd mix of feelings: wanting to be held but being held by the wrong person. Although, the three beers she’d consumed in succession did help. And while she hadn’t completely made her mind up yet on whether she would go home with Liam or not (she was pretty sure he had said Liam was his name when she’d asked), she couldn’t deny that he was strong, he didn’t say much which was fine by her because his voice ruined the illusion every time, and his attention was laser focused on her. She wasn’t drunk by any means, but she was definitely enjoying that all-too familiar buzz. She couldn’t help but smile and close her eyes when he leaned down to kiss her neck.

“Cass.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. How did Liam suddenly sound like Beau? Had she tipped over into the realm of intoxication without her realizing it? Or had she delved so far into the illusion that she had convinced herself that Liam was Beau? When his tongue swiped against her skin and his hands roamed lower than they had before, she dug her teeth into her bottom lip and found that she didn’t mind all that much.

“Cass!” 

Her eyes snapped open to find one very irritated Sheriff Arlen scowling over at her. So now she had started to imagine he was there as well? She really must be drunk.

Liam’s dark head swiveled up, eyes narrowed, and Beau moved his glare over to him. Oh, so she wasn’t hallucinating after all. A part of her was relieved at that knowledge but the other part was embarrassed and worried. Beau wasn’t supposed to see her like this, not in these circumstances, not hurting like this and wanting to throw all caution to the wind even if only for a night so she could forget everything. Not that she ever planned to tell him how she felt, but how could he ever see her as anything more than a friend now? That dangerous thought surprised her and she shut it down quickly. Maybe she drank more than she thought…

It was very rare to see Beau angry and she had witnessed the intimidating sheriff glare he adopted when he was working in that capacity, but she had never quite seen the icy and menacing look he was currently directing at Liam. “I’d like to cut in.”

Before Cassie could say anything, Liam bit out, “She’s already dancing with me . Why don’t you go find somebody else, old man?”

She frowned up at him, not happy that he was insulting her friend. That was completely uncalled for. “Don’t call him that,” she warned. “And I can decide who I want to dance with, thank you.” But neither man appeared to hear her.

Instead, Beau straightened up and put his hands on his hips, revealing the badge clipped to his belt that had been hidden beneath his jacket. “I said, I’d like to cut in,” he growled. “You want to keep dancing? Fine. You and I can dance all the way down to the station if you’d like.”  

Liam glanced at the badge, Beau, Cassie, and then scoffed, obviously deciding she wasn’t worth it and letting her go. “Whatever, man. Fucking cops.” She watched as he stormed off back to his friends who were still engaged in their pool game, obviously pissed off. She ended up shaking her head. And to think she had almost been ready to go home with him, thinking he was a suitable temporary replacement for the man standing next to her. 

Beau filled her vision and his hands gripped her hips, pulling her in closer to him. While she was not exactly happy with him, she didn’t resist. How could she when this is what she had really been craving all night?

“You okay?” He murmured to her hairline.

She wound her fingers into his jacket, holding him closer, and laid her head down on his chest. “Yeah.” She smelled the familiar scent of the cologne she had been trying to imagine earlier and she closed her eyes. “Just let me know when you’re going to lift a leg.”

“Lift a leg?”

“You know, to pee on me.”

“Cassie, I—” He went to move her back, presumably to look at her, but she held on tightly.

“Don’t you dare stop holding me,” she commanded.

“Okay,” he chuckled, strengthening his grip on her just the way she liked and making her smile. 

“Perfect,” she whispered. 

Her eyes nearly watered when she felt him press a kiss to her head and whispered back, “Yeah.”

They danced in silence, with him holding her, and at the risk of sounding like a familiar fairy tale from long ago, for Cassie, his embrace was just right. She realized she had been a fool to think she could find how he made her feel in anyone else, even if only for a night or a few dances.

When the song was over, then she pulled back to glance up at him. His features had softened considerably since she had last seen them a few minutes earlier and the ice in his gaze had melted away to the familiar warmth they always exuded when he looked at her.

He reached up and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You ready to go?”

Cassie gently cradled his wrist with her hand and was about to agree when another song she loved came on. She shook her head. “One more.” She wasn’t ready for this night to end just yet.

His eyes quickly glanced behind her before he gave her a warm smile. “I’d love to, sweetheart, but I think we should head out before that becomes a problem.” He nodded his head in the direction he had been looking and she turned around to see Liam glaring over at them, talking heatedly to his friends who were now also glaring. She was pretty sure that the only reason they hadn’t approached them already was due to Beau being the sheriff.

“Unbelievable.” She hated this typical male bravado crap, it was such a turnoff. Did any one of them ask her what she wanted to do? Since when did one drink, a few dances, a kiss to her neck, and hands on her ass automatically make her belong to someone else? 

“It doesn’t,” Beau stated, and she winced, realizing she had mistakenly said that last part out loud. She swung her head back to find his eyes intently focused on her. “We can dance as many times as you want once I get you home, darlin’, but right now, I think we should make our exit.”

“I can drive, I’m not drunk.” She had no idea why she said it. Yes, she wasn’t drunk, but she wasn’t in any shape to drive right then; she was too tipsy. So tipsy in fact that she hadn’t even realized that she had wrapped her arms around his neck and moved closer. “I’m not,” she insisted, refusing to focus on how much she liked it when his arms secured around her waist in response, keeping her that close.

He gave her a look of disbelief. “You’re not, huh?”

“I’m not.” She went to move her foot when she started to stumble and Beau kept her upright, making her laugh. “Oh, okay…yes, I am buzzing a little, but I promise you, Sheriff Arlen.” She lifted up and stopped a few inches away from his lips, staring right into his eyes. “I am not drunk,” she murmured.  

They watched one another, the outside world ceasing to matter in that moment. She thought his breathing had picked up; she knew hers had. And when her eyes fluttered down to his lips, making her tongue peek out to wet her own, she could have sworn he was moving closer and closer.

A glass loudly breaking jolted them and they both turned to see where the sound had come from. A young red-faced bartender was hurrying to get a broom as people drunkenly clapped and laughed, leaving the glasses she had accidentally dropped on the floor behind. Cassie felt bad for the girl but she also kind of wanted to scream, especially when Beau cleared his throat and moved back an appropriate distance, keeping only his hand at her back to keep her steady.

“I should get you home,” he insisted. When she went to protest, he cut her off. “Don’t. You’re in no shape to drive and we both know it. We’ll get your truck in the morning. So grab your things, Dewell, and let’s go.” Cassie tried to tamp down the hurt at him using her last name. He never used her last name.

She pressed her lips into a thin line to keep from snapping at him that she would be fine on her own and instead, did as he requested. She lifted her jacket from her stool, slapped a $20 bill down on the bar, and allowed him to lead her outside. She noticed that he glanced over to the pool table area quickly before they walked out the door.

While the cold air was refreshing and somewhat sobering, Cassie shivered and began to slip her jacket on. Beau helped her and then he slung an arm around her waist. pulling her into his body for warmth. She smiled a little at the gesture; Beau was still not used to the Montana cold and even though she was, he still rubbed at her upper arm to try to warm her up.

“I thought you left with Jenny.” She felt slightly guilty that she hadn’t even thought to ask where Jenny was all of this time.

He shook his head. “She was okay to drive. You’re not.” He stated it so matter-of-factly, as if that was all there was to it.

“You were gone a while.”

“Only fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.” He stopped them in front of Pedro and dug into his pocket for his keys. “I underestimated how quickly you could get into trouble,” he teased before leading her over to the passenger door.

“Twenty minutes?” There was no way it had only been twenty minutes. She and Liam had shared at least three beers together, at least three dances — or maybe it was two… Regardless, there was no way it had been that short amount of time. Okay, yes, she had pounded those beers back but she was no lightweight. 

He gave her a knowing look. “Like I said, you’re not in any condition to drive.”

“But, Beau, I’m not drunk, really.”

“Uh huh.” He opened the door and indicated for her to get in.

“No, no, Beau, listen to me.” She turned and gripped the lapels of his jacket, making him focus on her and hear what she was saying. She didn’t know why but it was super important to her that Beau knew that she wasn’t wasted. “I promise you, I’m not drunk. If you want to take me home, that’s fine. You’re right, I shouldn’t be driving. But I am not drunk. I need you to know that.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

“I’m serious, Beau.”

“So am I. Now, come on, get in the car. It’s freezing out here. Did you know there’s a wind chill air warning for tonight? Jesus.” Cassie felt bad when she saw him shudder at the bite of the icy air flowing around them and hopped into Pedro, not feeling that she had thoroughly convinced him of her lacking state of inebriation. 

He closed her door, made his way around to the driver side, and got in. He started the car up and put the heat on blast, aiming all of his vents in her direction. She smiled and assured him, “I’m okay.”

Beau blew into his hands and rubbed them together. “I know you are, but I’m not. Wow. This is… Have I ever told you how hot Texas gets? The last time Houston even got any snow… Okay, yeah, it happened last year, but it’s rare.” He blew warm air into his hands again. “So rare.”

Cassie chuckled and laid her head against the headrest, smiling over at him. 

He noticed her watching him and he laughed to himself. “What? It’s cold .”

She shook her head but didn’t say anything. This was the guy who had somehow magically appeared in her life, who immediately insisted on them being friends, and who had snuck his way into her heart. Just when she didn’t think any part of that particular organ was left standing that could allow room for anyone else.

A layer of quiet shrouded them in the old car and only the sounds of the heater and the engine could be heard. Their eyes never left one another and Cassie could feel her heart rate beginning to pick up when she saw him lick his lips nervously. The action made her smile even wider. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” she nearly whispered.

He chuckled, ducking his head in that cute aw-shucks manner he had. “I’m sure you are. Comes in handy when you need a ride,” he teased.

She laughed as well but she made sure to explain what she really meant. “No. I meant, I’m glad you’re here in Montana.” He gave her a bright smile in response and she couldn’t help adding, “With me.”

His smile slowly began to fade and that worried her but before she could backtrack and apologize, he turned to her with a sober expression. “Just tell me why.”

Cassie knew what he was really asking and she contemplated lying, but she had an opening to tell him. If she didn’t take it now, when would she? Even if he did push her back into the friend zone and then break her heart by telling her that he only saw her blonde best friend in that light? She’d kick herself down the road if she didn’t at least take the chance to tell him. No time like the present. She braced herself and spoke honestly, “I like the way you hold me.” Wait, what? She had meant to tell him something completely different. Damn alcohol. 

That brought him up short. He obviously hadn’t been expecting that answer; neither had she to be perfectly honest. She wanted to be honest with him but there was quite a difference between honest and blunt. “Then why—”

“I thought maybe he could.” She shrugged, deciding to no longer worry over how direct she was being. The cat was already out of the bag, might as well give it a name and let it make itself at home. “He wasn’t you but… Even if it was just for a little while. A dance or two...” 

And there it was, the truth she hadn’t been willing to tell him before this moment, the very thing she kept pushing further and further down each time it tried to make its presence known, unwilling to let it see the light of day. Something she figured was good reason when she saw his jaw tighten and he appeared to be struggling to form a response, as if he was warring with himself internally.

She turned her head to look out at the parking lot, unable to meet his eyes when she said what she was going to say next. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it. We’re just friends, I get it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Guess I must be more tipsy than I thought,” she attempted to joke, ignoring the familiar burning in the corners of her eyes.

Hands framed her face and turned her to look at him. He was a lot closer than she anticipated, having begun to lean over towards her. His eyes flickered back and forth between her and her mouth. When she didn’t move away or tense up, Beau slowly moved forward and gently pulled her to meet him. She knew what was happening, what he intended to do, and she wouldn’t dream of putting a stop to it. As they inched closer and closer, her heart thumping wildly in her chest, she found herself not really caring about the rest of the world right then. And when their eyes closed and his lips made contact with hers, when he kissed her so soundly, making her heart, stomach, and…other parts of her flutter, all thought of anything that wasn’t Beau Arlen went straight out the window.

When he broke away, placing his forehead against hers and stroking her cheek, her lips tingled and she was eager to get his back on them as soon as they both caught their breath. That didn’t mean she couldn’t kiss other parts of him though while she waited. She went to move into his neck when he gently held her back.

At her pout, Beau chuckled and pecked her lips before moving back slightly, smiling down at her. “I can’t. You’re drunk, sweetheart.”

Her jaw dropped. “I’m not. I told you.”

“You just said it.” 

“I only said that because I didn’t think you’d want…” She purposely let that statement trail off.

“Oh, I want everything at the end of that sentence. Every single bit,” he promised. “But Cass, you’re intoxicated and for us to do anything more than this…it wouldn’t be right.” He rubbed his thumb tenderly along her cheekbone. “And you mean too much to me for us to jump right into this without talking it over first.”

“Beau.” She pushed him back and crawled over onto his side of the car, resting her back comfortably against the steering wheel, making sure she didn’t accidentally hit the horn. It was a tight fit but she was determined to make it work. His hands were on her hips helping to keep her steady and she laid her hands on his shoulders to help her stay upright. “I’m not drunk, I promise. A little buzzed, yes, but I’m telling you, I’m fine.” He went to say something when she cut him off. “Anything that happens tonight is because I want it to.”

“Okay, but that guy in there that you never met before tonight? His hands were all over you, he was even kissing on you. If you’re fine, then how—”

She ran her thumb along his bottom lip, studying him. She chose to throw all caution out the window and just say it; she had already come this far. “Because I wanted it to be you,” she murmured sadly. 

His eyes softened and he gripped the back of her neck, pushing her down to meet him. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, touching it against hers, and Cassie felt as if electricity surged through her very being. It was all Beau could do to keep upright in the seat and prevent her from activating the horn repeatedly.

“We should talk about this,” Beau panted against her lips a minute later.

“We will. Tomorrow,” she promised before diving back in for another kiss.   

And that’s how she ended up staying in his lap in his car with the seat rolled as far back as it could go as they indulged in one hell of a makeout session, with her kissing him like her life depended on it. Neither of them cared that the Sheriff’s car could be seen by patrons and passersby alike in The Boot Heel Bar parking lot or that it gave the occasional shake or wobble. Neither of them cared that the windows were so fogged up that even though no one could see exactly who was inside it was pretty obvious that the Sheriff had someone with him and that they weren’t listening to music on the radio or shooting the breeze. Cassie didn’t even care that she was only down to one top layer, her other layers having been tossed somewhere in this old heap of a car alongside Beau’s jacket.

When they both needed air, Cassie broke away and moved to his neck, choosing that moment to roll her jean-clad hips against him. “Fuck,” Beau ground out and his fingers dug into the small of her back. She had never heard Beau use that particular F-word in all of the months she’d known him, but so far tonight, this was his fifth time using it. She smirked, nipping at his neck and then kissing her way to his throat.

“H-Hey, is it okay if I touch you?” Beau asked breathlessly.

“Mmm, you better, Cowboy,” she teased near his ear and then rolled her hips again, making him curse once more which caused both of them to chuckle. 

She expected him to go in for the kill, right where she wanted him, but instead, his hands moved off of her back and slid down to her ass, gently squeezing. Cassie stopped teasing the lobe of his ear with her tongue and froze, not expecting that one. Beau unfortunately noticed this and his hands immediately flew off of her as if they had been burned. She pulled back to see uncertainty lining his expression. “I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I shouldn’t have—”

Cassie smirked and leaned down until she was hovering above him. “Looks to me like you’re blushing, Sheriff.” When he didn’t say anything, only watched her, she pressed a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I thought you said it wasn’t possible for Texans to blush.”

“Cass.” At the seriousness of his tone, she sat up to glance down at him. Was he regretting making the first move? Or was he regretting that he made the first move with her ?

Seeming to know she was stuck in her head just like he always did, he cupped her cheek and tenderly stroked her skin reassuringly. “You sure you’re okay with this?” 

Instead of replying, she turned his question back on him. “Are you?” While she thought she knew the answer to that one a moment ago, now she wasn’t so sure. He had been the one to kiss her, sure, but maybe he was regretting it. Maybe he was worried what this might do to their friendship and occasional partnership. Maybe she should be worried about that, too, but if she let that one thought in, a whole bunch of other ones were going to come knocking and she wasn’t prepared to deal with that just yet.

He gave her an affectionate smile. “I’ve been wanting this for a while now.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Really…”

His eyes widened slightly with realization and he began to stammer again, his cheeks burning. “No. I mean— Okay, no, what I meant was— I— I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while, that’s all I meant.” He held up his hands in surrender, chuckling nervously with boyish grin intact, though his blush didn’t die down at all. If this were any other time, she would have thought it cute but now…now she had other things on her mind. After a moment, she decided to go all in. Cassie had always been a bit of an adventurer. She loved to take risks, get the adrenaline pumping, and jump headfirst once she had made a decision, as her dad had always told her. 

And right now, she got that all-too familiar excitement before she was about to make said leap.

“Awww,” she teased. “You’re still blushing.”

“What? No… No, I’m not.”

“You are!” 

“No, no. See, that’s just my blood pressure, which you have done one hell of a job raising by the way. Okay? You have had zero mercy on me and I’m simply reacting to the increased blood pressure levels and I—”

As he rambled, she quickly undid the buttons of her shirt. “Oh, then will this help?” She opened it and then peeled it off of her shoulders before tossing it in the passenger seat, noting his sudden silence. Now, she was only in her bra and she watched in amusement as his eyes roved over her appreciatively.

“Yeah, that’s not…really helping in the blood pressure department, but you are one hell of a beautiful sight.”

He said it so earnestly that Cassie could feel her own cheeks start to heat up in a blush, and she ducked her head, locating his hands and placing them back on her bare sides. His skin was warm and she could feel the calluses on his fingers as they reverently roamed over her rib cage and down to her stomach, stopping just short of the top of her jeans. Beau glanced up at her, waiting for her to give the go ahead for him to continue, and Cassie gave him a coy smile before leaning down to stop right above his lips.

“So tell me, is it true what they say? Is everything really bigger in Texas?” She bit into his bottom lip with her teeth and tugged before letting him go, while at the same time she snuck her hand down and squeezed him, making him grunt and then let out a chuckle. His eyes darkened and his hands flew to her ass, squeezed, and yanked her roughly up against him, making her feel the evidence of her teasing while also causing her to inhale sharply at the unexpected action. He bucked his hips up into her, prompting her to bite her lip to keep a moan from escaping. She could see it in his gaze as he watched her; she had successfully stoked the fire. There would be no more questions or hesitations tonight. Tomorrow wasn’t even a thought; only the here and now.

Beau smirked up at her. “You bet your sweet ass it is, darlin’. Now, c’mere.” He tangled his fingers in the back of her hair and tugged her down to him, covering her mouth with his and proceeding to devour her, body and soul.  

And that’s how she had ended up in his bed inside his too small trailer the next morning, her body sore as hell and lacking clothes, her teeth sawing into her bottom lip when she thought back to all of the passion Beau had unleashed on her last night. Well, that explained the soreness.

She forced herself to focus on the immediate problem at hand. While a part of her felt as if this was a good thing, something she had been wanting for the longest time, especially when she recalled Beau’s words from the night before, the other part knew this had been a bad decision on her part. Jenny.

Not once had she given a thought to her best friend last night and now here she was, naked and experiencing a pleasant form of exhaustion, in the bed of the man that the blonde had her sights set on. They had gotten past Cody but would they be able to get past this one? Especially since she had no idea where Beau stood on how he felt about his undersheriff just yet? He returned Cassie’s feelings, he had stated as much the night before, but that didn’t mean… She refused to let that thought in, trying to keep it locked away but to no avail. But that didn’t mean that with Jenny in the mix, it might not change. Cody had slept with Jenny after all, not even a few hours after she broke it off with him. What if Beau also had feelings for Jenny? Why hadn’t she at least asked him once last night before they ended up in bed together? What if he didn’t even realize how he felt about the blonde and might not know it until the issue came to the forefront? And she had gone and slept with Beau, creating a crapstorm of epic proportions with her best friends, and for what? Some truly amazing sex? One night of intoxicated bliss with the first man she had truly let into her heart since Cody? Jenny was never going to forgive her. Beau was never going to forgive her. Shit.

The ringing stopped suddenly, jerking her out of the chaotic spiral her thoughts were about to go down, and she froze when she heard movement behind her. She bit into her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn’t be seen or noticed, not until she was ready. And honestly, she wasn’t sure she ever would be. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to face him again. Cassie winced when she heard a quiet cough but she remained still. Just when she thought she was safe, arms gently snaked around her and pulled her back into an embrace, spooning her from behind.

“Morning, Beautiful,” Beau’s gruff voice murmured into her ear from behind, confirming her worst fears. “Hope you don’t mind but I saw the text that was making your phone ring when I went to shut it off. It was Denise. She said she and Kai had fun last night and you can pick him up anytime for school or she can bring him if you want,” he said in between peppering her shoulder with tender kisses. She couldn’t deny that his morning voice alongside his affection was definitely something worth waking up to, even in this state. 

Cassie kept her gaze trained on the wall in front of her, choosing on one spot to delay the inevitable freak out she was going to have. Why did this have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t she just enjoy being here with him, in this moment together? When Beau let his lips linger against her skin, gazing down at her, she slowly closed her eyes, hoping he would think she was still tired and wanted to sleep. She just couldn’t look him in the eyes right then. If she did, he would know everything she was thinking and feeling within seconds. She couldn’t do that to him, not when she knew this was all her fault to begin with. And he was vulnerable…any type of rejection or dismissal of what occurred as a casual one night stand was not only bound to hurt him but crack his slowly healing heart even further. What the hell had she been thinking? How could she do this to him? And how could she do this to Jenny, again?

“Tired?”

She forced a faint smile to her face and nodded. “Mmm.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the juncture between her neck and her shoulder. “You should be.”

Cassie rolled her eyes behind her eyelids. “Really?”

She heard him laugh and felt his lips on her neck. “I know I am.”

Cassie couldn’t help the smile tipping the corner of her lips upward. He just had that effect on her, looming crisis and ensuing freakout or not. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Tell you what, how about you get a little more rest and I’ll get up to make us some coffee?” He whispered into her ear, nosing at her lobe. “And I’ll make us something to eat to prove to you that I can indeed cook, and bring it all in here to you when it’s ready? How does that sound? Good?”

She smiled and nodded, snuggling further under the sheet. “Okay. But if you start burning the place down, let me know so I can get up to help you put out the fire. You know, like last time.”

Another chuckle sounded in her ear. “The only fire happening in this place is what occurred in this bedroom last night.”

“Oh my God,” she groaned, burying her face into her pillow and making him snicker. “You did not just say that.”

“Just speaking the truth.” He pressed a kiss to a tender spot on her neck that made her sure she was going to have to wear a turtleneck today. She could only imagine the incessant questions Denise would ask her if she saw any hickeys. Despite herself, she let out a quiet moan when she felt his tongue soothing her skin after applying the gentlest amount of suction. “I’m going to have to make sure the trailer’s still in the same spot as it was yesterday. That we didn’t somehow move it in the middle of the night.”

She pushed at him and he laughed, dropping a kiss to her shoulder blade. “I mean it. Don’t burn the place down.”

“Not happening.”

“Yep. You also said the very same thing last time.”

“Nah, this time will be different. I am very determined not to get distracted by the beautiful woman in my bed and I will do whatever I have to do to keep her in it.” He lifted the sheet and began to trail kisses down her exposed back.

“So you’re saying last time happened because you had another woman in bed you were distracted by? I don’t remember seeing or hearing that one and I was here for the Big Arlen Blaze of ‘22.”

She didn’t need to open her eyes and look over her shoulder to know he was staring down at her in mock annoyance. “Wiseass,” he grumbled, making her chuckle. He then hugged her to him tightly and buried his face into her neck, letting out what sounded like a contented sigh against her skin.

Cassie didn’t know what to do so she kept her eyes closed and didn’t move. 

After a few minutes of quiet between them, with him holding her like this, he murmured, “Last night was amazing, Cassie. I’m really…glad it happened.”

Cassie’s eyes popped open and she found her focal point on the wall once more. “Yeah, me too,” she whispered. The swirling chaos inside her head got worse and her guilt tripled when she felt his lips tip up in a grin against her and his arms squeezed her in a silent acknowledgement of her words.

A moment later, he let her go and kissed the side of her head before getting to his feet. “Alright, I’m gonna go get everything started. You rest up and I’ll be back before you know it. Hell, I might even be able to find that George Foreman grill,” he laughed. “I’m feeling lucky.”

She turned her head on the pillow to watch him as he got dressed. There was a part of her that wanted to beg him to stay here with her for a little while longer, to keep the world at bay where she would have to deal with the consequences of her decisions, and the other part wanted to run like hell and avoid them, pretend they didn’t exist. 

As he was buttoning up his shirt, he glanced up and caught her watching him. She gave him the warmest smile she could muster and he returned it, watching her back. If this were anyone else, this would be the start of something new, something promising, but sadly, this wasn’t someone else; this was Beau. He was off-limits and she knew that. She had always known that. The regret and guilt started to consume her even more when he gestured towards a table in the corner behind him. On top of it sat the clothes she had discarded, arranged in a semi-neat pile. She sat up to get a better look and her brows furrowed in confusion. A flash of memory from last night played in her mind and she suddenly remembered her clothes had been strewn everywhere inside his car. She also remembered that Beau had carried her into the trailer since she was wrapped around his body, nearly tripping twice as he made his way up the stairs since their lips were glued together, making him curse the goddamn stairs which elicited a laugh from her. 

“Are those…?”

“Yeah. Clothes and keys. Your phone’s by the bed. I kept it close by in case Kai or Denise called.” She was pretty sure she recalled tossing the phone somewhere in the front seat after she sent a quick text to Denise asking if Kai could stay the night, which was a lot more difficult than it should have been but someone kept trailing open-mouthed kisses down her cleavage while begging her to come home with him. She kept whispering for him to wait so she could think while she typed up the text but his lips did magical things to her, and when his hand snuck its way into her jeans to give her extra incentive to agree, she threw her head back and arched further into his touch, nearly ignoring the device altogether when his tongue swiped up her neck. She did her best to hold on while Beau took her for one hell of a ride. She was amazed she still had the thing in her hand when his hands and lips were everywhere, all over her, setting off fire in so many places, and Cassie was pretty sure she was going into sensory overload. Everything everywhere was Beau and he didn’t let up, not for one second. So when Denise replied back with an “Absolutely! 😃😃😃 Be careful and have fun! 😉” a few minutes later, Cassie dropped the phone like a hot potato and wrapped her arms around Beau’s neck, nodding and panting. “Okay, yeah, let’s go back to your place.” He had worn the brightest smile and then dove in for another heated kiss. Cassie had been ready to go right there in the front seat before the texting but Beau had been insistent on her spending the night, on their making the twenty minute drive back to his trailer for privacy, not wanting the parking lot of the bar to be the backdrop to this moment between them. And she was beyond glad that he had been the voice of reason, especially considering how…loud things had gotten at one point later on. She nearly blushed at the thought.

“Thanks. But wait…didn’t I…?”

Beau gave her his signature smirk. “You fell asleep on me, sweetheart,” he teased. This time she did blush. He had worn her out; hell, they had worn each other out if the dark circles Beau was sporting underneath his eyes were any indication. “I didn’t want you to worry about missing any calls or messages.” She nervously bit at her lip and tried to tamp down the consuming guilt. He worked to reassure her, “Only took me a few minutes. But I will say you could give Nolan Ryan one hell of a run for his money. I found things of yours in the back of Pedro that I didn’t think were possible from that distance.” He winked and she shot him a thin-lipped smile in response. 

His brows creased slightly when she didn’t laugh or tease back like she normally would. He made his way towards his side of the bed, grabbing his watch and slipping his phone into the pocket of his jeans. He studied her as he clasped the watch around his wrist and ran a hand through his tousled hair that looked like he had already done that quite a few times since getting out of bed. He lightly cupped her chin with his fingers and forced her to meet his questioning gaze. “You’re not gonna get all weird on me here, are you, Cass?”

Her jaw clenched. She knew he would be able to read her like an open book if he got one good look at her. Why did she not pretend she had still been asleep? “No. Are you?”

His eyes softened slightly and he tenderly stroked her cheek. “No. I told you I’m good with how things went down.” He moved his thumb to glide along her bottom lip. “And if you’re really not, then I’d rather you just say it.”

Cassie wanted to tell him, to be honest with him about what she was thinking, what she was feeling, and how last night, while it had indeed been amazing, could never happen again. But one look into that green gaze she adored so much, one look into that handsome face that did its best to conceal the worry and expectation of the other shoe to drop, had her keeping silent. After a minute had passed with neither of them speaking, Beau let out a sigh. “Okay.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips before placing another one to her forehead. “You can use the shower if you want. Water’s hot. And the spare toothbrush is in the medicine cabinet. Or you can just stay as you are.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

He turned to leave and only got a few feet when Cassie realized what he said. “Spare toothbrush? Do you keep them on hand for all of the women you bring back here, Casanova?” She was teasing him on the surface, and Beau had been honest with her before this about his meager love life since his divorce, but the investigator in her told herself that if she had all of the information about the situation, it would help her to compartmentalize and decide on the best course of action.

“Only the important ones,” he teased in return. He reached the doorway and smirked back at her. “Bring yours next time and there won’t be any need for a spare.” He shot her another wink and then made his way down the short hall to the kitchenette. 

Cassie stared after him, completely caught off guard by his response. Important ones. Hers. Next time. No need for a spare if she brought her own. Shit.

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 😊

[tales-of-asgardia]

Loki's Knowhere, Chapter 2. Lost Fonts.

Asgard, the golden city in the Realm Eternal, in the early 13th century as the time was known to the mortals of Midgard, four prodigies of the old arts of sorcery and witchcraft studied. Lorelei, who above all else coveted power in all its forms, her older sister Amora, the most talented of Frigga’s class. Sigyn, with a sincere heart; and Loki, Odinson.

“Amora, I cannot express the greatness of which I do not wish to hear your pinings for my brother.” Loki pleaded to the sorceress with shining golden hair.

“Perhaps I might find the resolve to hold my tongue if my fortitude was not worn down by how grotesquely cute you and Sigyn were daily.” 

Sigyn blushed, “Amora, I do not know what you speak of.”

“You refer to him casually as husband.” Amora stated.

“And?” Loki asked.

“You are not married, or betrothed...lest you have eloped to avoid the judging gaze of the Allfather?” Amora teased.

“We have not.” Loki replied.

Sigyn brought her hands to her cheeks, covering her flush, “Please, shush, her Majesty shall return soon.

“Sigyn, my sweet, most cherished friend, you are so very easy to tease.” Amora laughed.

[Scene transition.]

Several daggers flew across the table from Loki’s outstretched hand, Nebula dodged, but had to raise her arm to stop the third dagger from piercing her chest. She winced as the asgardian conjured blade burned at her cybernetics.

“The next one shall not miss your heart.” Loki declared.

Quill drew his twin blasters on Loki, “Yeah and mine will getcha right between the eyes.”

With the flick of her fingers, the seat below Quill flew up and slammed him into the ceiling and he fell with a hard thud.

Thor looked back to Nebula, “You...tortured Loki?”

“I am groot.” Groot whimpered.

“Under Thanos’s order, yes.” Nebula admitted, “He tortured everyone he could he could use but resisted his will. Including Gamora and myself.” She pulled the thin razor from her arm, tossing it on the table, “We were all his victims.” She said, looking at Loki.

Thor turned around, “Loki, I had no idea.”

“You never do.” Loki spat.

“We’ll leave, Loki.” Nebula said.

“I am groot?”

“Yeah, what about Gamora?” Peter asked.

Loki glared at Nebula, not trusting her eyes off her for even a moment, “I shall not be helping you.”

“There are other leads.” Nebula stated.

The cyborg daughter of Thanos was the first to step out, followed by Drax, Rocket took Groot’s hand. “I am Groot?”

Quill stepped out without a word.

“Uh, Thor?” Rocket asked.

“Sister, I…” Thor said, softly, conflicted. “I said I’d help them.”

Loki’s jaw trembled, “Go.”

Thor nodded, “Thank you, Loki.”

The Thunderer was leaving as Loki spoke up again, “Brother...don’t come back.”

Thor stopped in his tracks, his hand made a shaking fist, he replied, “goodbye, Loki.”

Loki held still, deady painfully still for a long long time. Finally, Loki let out her breath, tears rolling down her cheeks, “Thick oaf.”

Over the intercom a digital voice spoke, “Lady Loki, the hostile entities have left orbit and your throne has been replaced.”

Loki did not reply, she poured herself a goblet of wine, she headed deeper into the Collection, to her personal chambers, “Clear all scheduled events, I need...I need a lot of things.”

“Shall we compile a wish list, Lady Loki?” 

“....No.”

Days passed into weeks for Loki, whose days consisted of day drinking on her throne, and the occasional approval of planetary defense systems as scavengers attempted to take whatever remained of the Collection.

She wore a green silky robe one morning as she sat awkwardly on her throne, lazily clipping her toenails, and munching on a bowl of grapes when the familiar roar of a bifrost bridge blasted outside the museum.

Loki jumped on her throne and glowered towards the sound, ‘Dense oaf, can’t follow the simplest request.” she muttered to herself, though despite all that had transpired she smiled softly.

All while you, Odin the protector of those Nine Realms, are sitting here in your bathrobes eating grapes.

“Oh shit.” She took a quick swallow of wine and stood up, glamoring herself, illusory light shifting her bathrobe into a green armored coat and matching boots, “Uhm, bumbum bah,” She adds fur to the collar of the coat, ‘Perfect.”

“Lady Loki, shall I engage defense protocols?” 

“It’s fine, disengage all safety measures.” Loki quickly said.

As the door opened Loki put on an all serious face, “Even now you cannot listen to a word I say, dear bro-” Loki froze, seeing her breath, she closed her grip on a conjured dagger.

The figure stepped through the door and Loki threw the dagger but it was knocked aside, the figure raised their hand and waves of ice ripped through the throne room and blasted Loki against the wall.

“Foul monster, you dare invade the home,” Loki said, as the figure walked closer, “of Loki, child of...Laufey.”

“Hello, son.” Laufey said, grabbing Loki’s face by the chin and jaw.

Loki let out groans of pain, as her skin grew blue, shapeshifting into jotunari form to protect herself from the damage, she bit Laufey’s hand hard, drawing blood.

“Whatever trick this is, Jotunn, I am not fooled. I killed Laufey myself.” Loki stated, and strained against the icewall, “Now tell, who are you, why should I care, and why,” Loki struggled fruitlessly, “Why can’t I break out of this damn ice!?”

The Jotunn wearing Laufey’s face smiled, erupting into illusory light, revealing a powerful built Jotunn woman with icy blue skin and deep blue-violet hair in thick curls, “I am Utgard Angrboda, Queen of Jotunheim.”

Loki glowered, and sneered, “So, the frost giants finally decided on a new king of the rumble mound? And a witch at that. How many jotnar fell to the power vacuum left in Laufey’s absence?”

“None to succession, millions when the bifrost landed on our world and did not end until it bore into the planet’s core...disrupting rotation, and plunging my world into further ruin than Odin ever dreamed.” Angrboda spat, “My ascension to the throne was assured before our births, when Laufey propositioned my clan for a betrothed for his...child.”

“So what, you’ve come here to kill me?” Loki grimaced, “Wed me? I implore you, choose the first.”

“Neither, unfortunately.” She stepped away, pouring herself a drink from the bar, “I have come because I was assured of your capability, and to call on your debt to your own people. The Realms are in chaos, Yggdrasil sundered, the balance a distant memory...even if I save Jotunheim it would only be a matter of time until all is lost regardless.”

“Funny you should think a Jotunn of all things would know anything about maintaining the balance of the realms.”

Angrboda downed her drink, “Yes, you’re right, after all, only Nine, or was it Eight? No matter, only SOME of the realms have fallen under Odin’s protection.”

Loki grimaced, silently.

“The Balance of the realms has nothing to do with an Imperialist calm. Odin kept his peace in the realms but not true balance. He was it’s defiler, a murderer and thief. Odin stole the fonts of magic from all realms he could not control otherwise, the casket of ancient winters, the eternal flame, the mead of poetry. And in doing so he made the realms weak so he could seem strong.”

“Tell me, jotunn queen, why should I consider a word of what you’re telling me?” Loki asked.

“Because,” Called into the room a new voice, Loki looked to the door in disbelief. “She learned this from me, Loki.”

She walked into the room, with a wave of her hand, chains of light glowed and shattered over Loki, and the ice shattered, she fell to the floor on her knees, wide eyed Loki uttered in dear whisper, “Sigyn.” 

Chapter 1 can be read here https://protector-of-mankind-thor.tumblr.com/post/632008264553463808/the-milano-slowed-as-it-entered-knowheres

[doritopaw101]

Arc1, book 2: Chapter 14

"Marshstar, we would've never crossed on your territory if we had other options" Bluestar stated, tail held high, "This was the only way we could get to the gathering"

Her words did nothing to appease the Shadowclan cats.

"I say they're spies?" Blazefang growled softly. Cinderfur and Tangleburr padding forward slightly. Icefire did spot Whitethroat, Roachwhisker, and Darkflower but he did his best not to look at them.

"Spies?" Tiger-roar his way forward to stand next to Bluestar, his thrust forward toward Blazefang until their noses were less than a mouse-length apart. "What would we spy for? We are no where near your toad infested camp"

Blazefang curled her lip back to reveal her long thorn-sharp teeth "Just give us the word, my sister, and we'll tear them apart"

"You can try" Tiger-roar growled, his muscles bunching up, displaying how much taller he was to most of the Shadowclan cats. Cats like Marshstar and Blazefang stood more of a chance. He could probably guess Marshstar and Blazefang were glad to have gotten Yellowfang's height.

For a few heartbeats Marshstar said nothing, Icefire's muscles tensed. Beside him, Graystripe growled low in her throat, glaring at Tangleburr. Mousefur bared her teeth at Darkhollow who raised an unsheathed paw, and Whitethroat seemed to have a silent conversation with Marshstar.

Then it started, Seedspots launched forward and pinned Whisperleaf down and Cinderfreeze covered Seedspots and got in a tussle with Cinderfur. Tiger-roar and Blazefang were on their hind legs and were clawing at each other's faces.

He couldn't see where Bluestar was but he figured she was after Marshstar, he needed to find her. He dodged as my cats as he could through the fray, ignoring the odd nip as they did. He was shoved back when Graystripe was trying to buck Tangleburr off her back, he also had to duck when a cat was tossed at him. He didn't expect the tossed cat at his paws was his daughter, his little Flame.

"Papa?" she mewed in shock, she had a tooth in her ear already

"Flame-"

"Get back here" Seedspots hissed, trying to pounce on the poor apprentice. Icefire rammed into her full force "What are you doing? She's just an apprentice barley out of teh nursery"

Seedspots swiped at him to which he blocked "Just cuz she's your kit doesn't mean you save her from fighting like a true warrior"

Icefire stood protectively over Flamepaw "Fight someone your own size Seedspots"

The tortie hissed in response.

And just as it began, the fight ended. A yowl sounded in the center. Marshstar on one side and Bluestar on the other. His leader's mouth was dripping with blood, left front leg cut into, and her eye was slashed across to contrast Marshstar's chest was bleeding as was her right ear and her tail. Both leaders eyes blazed with rage.

"Keep back" Marshstar grunted at last to her warriors "We'll let them pass, I want Thunderclan here for this gathering"

/

Thunderclan and Shadowclan stayed mostly on opposite sides of the clearing as they waited. Injuries that needed to be tended to were treated by the healers. Icefire ignored the glares from some of his clanmates as he groomed Flamepaw, she was his daughter no matter what clan.

"How's..er..the others?" Flamepaw said awkwardly

"Traitor" Seedspots hissed lowly

"They're okay and apprenticed just like you" he replied ignoring the tortie "Cloudpaw's training to be a Silverblood"

"Glad he actually stuck to it" Flamepaw mewed "He kept following Blossomhaze around"

"He would've came here if Bluestar allowed it"

"Kinda glad he didn't end up in the fight"

Icefire agreed silently "How've you and Violetpaw been?"

"Great, My mentor's name is Rottingbranch and Violetpaw's mentor is Houndclaw, Rottingbranch is so cool"

"Houndclaw?"

"Yeah, she renamed herself from Dirtpaw after dealing with a dog, it was cool"

"Darkflower's daughters right?"

"Proudly" he looked up and saw Darkflower with Rottingbranch and Houndclaw at her side "Raised them well" Rottingbranch looked friendly enough while Houndclaw narrowed her eyes at him.

"I don't doubt that" Icefire mewed, he glanced around "Where's Violetpaw?"

"Back at camp" Roachwhisker appeared on his right side out of nowhere, her head hair a mess as was her pelt "Wrappped up in cobwebs she is"

"She's fine" Houndclaw said quickly

"Fine?"

"Alive" Roachwhisker corrected

"She got bit by a snake pa" Flamepaw said finally

"Bit the shit outta her more like" Roachwhisker snorted, Rottingbranch cuffed her ears.

"What?" Icefire hissed "I'm sorry, my daughter got bit by a snake, where's Marshstar?"

"Please don't Icefire" Darkflower pleaded "She's okay really, Blossomhaze and Palecloud made sure of that"

"Is that why you have fangs in your ear? The fangs of the snake that could've killed your sister" Flamepaw shrunk slightly "How did she even get near a snake in the first place? Some fucked Shadowclan tradition?"

"You wouldn't understand Thunder cat" Houndclaw growled, baring her teeth and stepping closer to Icefire "She was perfectly safe, I was there"

"Houndclaw hush" Rottingbranch hissed "Don't be rude after we just fought"

"Take a breath" Whitethroat hissed out, padding over with a slight shove at Houndclaw "Me and Foxtrot already had to calm down Marshstar, we don't want for arguments over nothing" The black tom turned his blue gaze on Icefire "You as well"

Icefire sighed "Houndclaw is right I don't understand but what I am doing is showing basic concern for my kit's wellbeing, do you understand that?"

Houndclaw forced a breath out "Yes, it seems I was too blunt in my words"

"Better" Whitethroat mewed "Houndclaw stay with the group, it's clear you can't contain your temper"

Houndclaw snarled but obeyed.

"My apologies for my daughter, she's just gotten protective of her siblings, Badgerfang rubs off on her" Darkflower said, lowering her head "It's gotten worse since Sharp-paw's injury"

Icefire nodded, he almost forgot that Rottingbranch, Houndclaw, and Sharp-paw were some of the many Brokentail kits.

"Darkflower, didn't ya want to ask Icy here somethin" Roachwhisker said, she leaned against Icefire, he let her and he didn't know why.

"I was actually wondering if you'd like to come to a meeting in two days" Darkflower asked

"Meeting?"

"Yes, for all the kits of Brokentail, to see what happens with relationships with ones in Thunderclan"

"Didn't they spend time with you all?"

"Marshstar didn't really let them" Darkflower admitted

"Damn shame honestly" Roachwhisker added

"Where?"

"Fourtrees" Whitethroat replied

"I'll see what my kits want and if they agree we'll come"

Rottingbranch nodded "Thank you" she turned away "I'll be off, Flamepaw come over if needed alright" Flamepaw nodded to her mentor.

"Windclan's here" Roachwhisker mewed "Have fun with that half-bro of mine" she quickly hopped off.

Whitethroat looked tense, his fur spiking up. Icefire placed a paw on the smaller tom's for comfort. "Breathe"

"You two are more alike than you think" Flamepaw commented

"Who?"

"You and Aunt Roach, you two can act all crazy and rude but on the inside you're both kind and soft"

"She acts like she's on catmint half the time" Icefire scoffed at the thought of being soft, he was trained by Tiger-roar for Starclan's sake, a well trained fighter.

Whitethroat snorted

"You have something to say?"

Whitethroat shook his head

Flamepaw chuckled "What about the time you took us all out to watch the sun rise?"

"Hush you"

"Splinter" he turned his head to see his father pad over to him, he was wearing a dark blue,pink, and purple colored bandanna, it reminded him or Barley's rainbow colored one.

Juniperleaf nuzzled him purring as he did "I've missed you son, sorry I wasn't at the recent gatherings I've been busy"

"Yeah, I heard about my new siblings" Icefire mewed, he pulled Flamepaw close "However I had my own things as well, meet one of your grandkits, Juniperleaf meet Flamepaw"

"H..hi " Flamepaw stuttered

"My stars, Your beautiful" Juniperleaf wrapped his paws around Flamepaw "Look just like Filou"

"She reminds me more of Blazefang" Whitethroat muttered

'Both of them honestly' Icefire corrected mentally "I have to introduce you tow sometime" he turned to Juniperleaf "Flameshell is expecting kits too father"

"I know, I saw her while on patrol, she's close to her kitting. When can I meet your other kits?"

"As soon Bluestar allows it" Icefire replied "I didn't know Flamepaw was going to be here until I saw her however there's something that's happening at here two days from now, I'm sure you can meet them all there"

"Perfect"

A yowl from Marshstar started the gathering.

/

"That could've gone better" Ebonyshade muttered, ducking her head

"You think?" Lichenstrike snapped, Brackenfur stopped his sister from cuffing Ebonyshade over the ears.

It had been regular news from Stormstar, Greenflower's new litter with Dragonflykit and Duck-kit, new warriors in Tidesong, Eelfang, Heronclaw, and Poolheart.

As well as Duskstar's news of Gorsepaw, Quailpaw, and Brairpaw's apprenticeship.

However, the gathering truly had gotten right into it when Marshstar was passive aggressive about the attack on the Thunderpath and accusing Bluestar of sheltering Brokentail's followers in their territory. Marshstar had stated that her warriors caught their scent throughout the territory, the Shadowclan leader seemed a bit paranoid.

Bluestar had denied it up and down. They two mollies ended up in a screeching match giving insult after insult without skipping a beat. They ended up fighting and Duskstar and Stormstar had pulled them apart. The only thing that calmed Bluestar down was when Stormstar told her that his clan found Smokepaw, Petalpaw, and Owlpaw's bodies, Lynxpaw was alive, soaked and injured but alive nonethless.

Marshstar had spat at Bluestar that her clan was stuck here because there was no way they were going through Shadowclan territory without getting clawed. Some of the Windclan cats had hissed at them as well believing Marshstar's words.

Flamepaw nuzzled him before following her clanmates. He saw Tiger-roar stalk over, he thought the two-colored tabby would yell at him for talking with Flamepaw but the tabby walked past him.

"I hope you're satisfied" Tiger-roar snarled at Bluestar as he took his place beside her "Like we needed another fight"

"This is not the time or place" Bluestar replied curtly, she drew a licked paw to her bleeding ear.

"You're one to talk about not the place" Tiger-roar snapped, tail lashing "How are we supposed to get home?"

Icefire could see that his clanmates were worried that Bluestar and Tiger-roar would start fighting, thankfully it didn't come to that when Stormstar padded over with some of his warriors.

"I can offer you a way home" Stormstar mewed, he glanced at Icefire as he spoke, and Icefire guessed he was remembering how he and Graystripe had helped Riverclan by giving the prey. But no one except Bluestar knew about what they had been doing.

Before Bluestar could speak, Tiger-roar hissed "Why should we trust Riverclan?"

'We don't have a choice dumbass' Icefire thought 'it's either this or get clawed by Shadowclan'

Stormstar ignored him, his amber and blue eyes on Bluestar waiting for her response. Bluestar had shoved Tiger-roar away then she dipped her head respectfully. "Thank you, Stormstar. I accept your offer"

The Riverclan leader nodded briefly and turned to escort her out of the clearing. There was still some muttering among the Thunderclan cats as Bluestar led her warriors through the bushes and up the slope out of the hollow. Cats from Shadowclan and Windclan hissed at them, even though Riverclan warriors flanked them protectively on both sides. Icebelly realized with a jolt that the divisions within the forest had shifted in the space of a single gathering.

He was relieved when they reached the top of the slope and left the hostile gathering behind them. He noticed Graystripe trying to edge closer to Silverstream, but Greenflower and Mosspelt were in her way, giving Silverstream a lick from time to time.

"You're sure you're not tired" Mosspelt mewed "It's alright if you are love"

"It's a long journey when you're expecting kits Silver" Greenflower fussed "You remember with our first and with Dragonflykit and Duck-kit"

"It was tiring for me when I was still pregnant with Dawnkit" Mosspelt added

"No guys, I'm fine" Silverstream replied patiently, casting a frustrated glance at Graystripe over her mate's head. Icefire pulled Graystripe to walk beside him.

Tiger-roar brought up the rear of the Thunderclan patrol, swinging his huge head aggressively from side to side as if he expected the Riverclan cats to attack any moment.

Bluestar, on the other paw, seemed to be quite at ease traveling with the other clan. She had been chatting idly with Stormstar, asking about kits and grandkits. Once they were away from Fourtrees she let Stormstar take the lead, while she dropped back to join Mistyfoot.

"Hello, Mistyfoot" Bluestar mewed

"Hello, Mother" Mistyfoot replied, edging closer to Bluestar "How've you been?, I've heard about your new litter"

"Two've just been apprenticed" Bluestar mewed, she turned serious "I've heard that your kits were caught in the river" Mistyfoot looked down "Are they well?"

Mistyfoot rubbed themself against Bluestar, whispering something that Icefire couldn't catch. Bluestar softly licked Mistyfoot on the head, an act of comfort.

Watching his leader and the Riverclan warrior walking step for step, Icefire couldn't help but chuckle softly as their blue-gray fur shone almost identical in the moonlight. They had the same neat, compact bodies, and when they had to leap over a log that lay in their path they both flexed their limbs with the same economical ripple of muscles. Stonefur, coming up behind was an exact copy of Oakjaw but had Bluestar's chilling blue eyes like Mistyfoot.

It was shocking how close they were a family even though they were in different clans. He still held a good relationship with Flameshell even though she was in Riverclan. He hoped he could stay close to Violetpaw and Flamepaw though he wondered if it would last if a battle broke out.

/

On the second dawn after the gathering, Icefire woke in the warrior's den to find that Graystripe had already left the nest. Raveneye had filled in the spot in his sleep, Cloudpaw and Rosepaw laying on both of them and Bearpaw and Shrikepaw on his left side with Sunnypaw close by. Even when apprenticed, his kits still wanted to sleep with him, didn't help when Ashpaw, Fernpaw, and Tulip-paw seemed to sleep nearby as well.

Fun to watch Chestnutclaw growl with envy though so he'll deal with the weight.

'Gone to see Silverstream', Icefire thought with a sigh if frustration. He knew that Silverstream was expecting kits but Graystripe didn't need to get caught. Whiteclaw had to push Graystripe into a stream to hide him once and neither wanted to do that again.

"He's been gone for awhile" Raveneye muttered in his ear "Is he trying to get caught?"

"He knows if he goes down, he does down alone" Icefire replied "I just got the proper custody back, I'm not losing it again"

Honestly he preferred not being in the nursery as much since Seedspots moved in, Lionheart being all over here made it worse. The newly retired Speckletail seemed to approve her son's new mate, he could tell Frostbite wanted to break someone but used some leftover bones instead. Honestly with Seedspots there as well as Robinwing still being there and close to popping, it was an explosive time in the nursery.

Patchpelt brought two kits of his back to camp, a tom and a molly. Nettlemist was all to happy to care for the kits but Robinwing seemed to want to raise them as well.

Yawning widely, Icefire pushed his way through the outer branches of the bush, and shook moss from his coat while he looked around clearing. The sun was beginning to edge its way above the bracken wall, casting long shadows over the bare ground. The sky was pure, cloudless, and blue.. Birdsong all around held the promise of easy prey.

He quickly brushed through the camp entrance and made his way through the forest. Quiet and not to sunny, just how he liked it. He quickly caught sight of a mouse, nibbling on a seed. He slowly made his way over, trying to calm his breath.

He pounced killing it was one swift bite. He turned to a tree root to bury it for later and continued his way. He made his way past the sandy hollow, it felt good not smelling Smallear around. He did however catch the scent of Voletail. He honestly wondered what he was doing out here since the tom liked to sleep in. He started to pad over when he heard a loud noise. He tensed thinking it was one of the rouges but lowered slightly when he saw hooves.

'A deer' he was surprised, he knew they were there and rarely the clan ate them but didn't expect to see one so early in the day. As it got closer he realized it was a male, an elderly and pretty injured one at that.

'Perfect kill' he remembered Scourge's words

It stared at him then lowered it's head and sniffed his paws then nipped. He hissed as a reflex and swiped at his face, at first he was confused why the stag was doing this then it sank it that it wanted to be killed.

"I'll kill you if you put up at least some effort"

The deer huffed then it spoke "Have it your way cat, rather you then those wolves"

Icefire quickly dodged the stomping hooves and dashed underneath, he bit into the stag's belly. It took more effort than he thought to dig his claws in, didn't help he had to force some weight than he would've liked on his busted leg. The stag bucked but it only made it bleed more. He let go, and moved forward to launch himself to sink his claws in the stag's neck. The stag's struggles lessened as it started to sink to the ground.

Icefire tightened his bite and pulled his head back. He started eating the piece in his mouth as the blood pooled around him.

"Not bad" he muttered to himself "Now how in the hell do I get this back to camp?"

He realized that he'd have to get Voletail. Sighing he started padding over to the scent. He saw Voletail's brown pelt and was about to announce himself but he quickly ducked when he saw Mudfoot.

He froze when he heard Tiger-roar hiss "You killed my kits you mouse-brain"

"I thought that was the plan to kill the apprentices" Mudfoot hissed

"Not my brother's kits" Nightshade spat, she hit Mudfoot on the back of the head "Starclan getting Swiftkit from Shadowclan wasn't this hard"

"I wasn't going to subject my son to Icefire's fate sister" Tiger-roar stated "Not if I could help it"

'What!' Icefire's jaw dropped 'They knew!'

It took all of his self-control to rip into Tiger-roar and Nightshade's flesh, it reminded him of one of Scourge's and Tiger-roar's lessons "You can only depend on yourself"

'Depend on myself indeed' he thought grimly. He walked a few paces back and called over to them "Tiger Night Voletail, I can smell you can you help me with this Stag?" He wanted to gag when he used only their prefix, he never wanted to be close with these fuckers again.

A sudden rush from the bushes could've made Icefire jump.

"What stag?" Voletail sneered

He flicked his tail over to the stag's body "Help me drag it back to camp"

/

"Mama, stop" Graystripe whined, trying to squirm away.

"You will not look like a thorn bush" Willowpelt lowly hissed trying to tame her kit's fur "Not even Thrushpelt or Featherwhisker's fur got this bad"

Icefire had to hold in his laughter, glad that Nettlemist was there to help him. Took a while but he,Tiger-roar, Nightshade, and Voletail dragged the deer back to camp.

Many cats gasped when they saw the large kill, some wanted to know who killed the beast. Icefire's pretty sure that Voletail tried to take the credit but Nightshade beat him to it stating that Icefire killed it.

It was great watching Lionheart's jaw drop, Frostbite and Mossthorn approved.

The clan declared a feast to be had. Good times after a long while. Fuzzypelt even told Icefire that he'll make a good pelt and helmet for him. Just like Bluestar's that he'd yet to see.

Graystripe wasn't doing any better when Frostbite started grooming her. "Mother"

Frostbite shushed her, Whitekit, Lightkit, and Tawnykit wrapped in her tail. It had been interesting to learn that Frostbite and Miststrike helped raise Graystripe along with Willowpelt and Leopardstorm.

"Everything okay? Thymeroot called, Voletail and Ashpaw at her side.

"Yep, Graystripe getting groomed by her moms" Icefire replied "She's fine"

"Well I've brought some borage for Goldenflower you've said your milk won't come"

"Yes" Goldenflower mewed "I don't know why, it wasn't like this with Swiftpaw and Lynxpaw"

Thymeroot brought the leaves over to the golden queen, Ashpaw observing silently while Voletail just looked around. "Something wrong?" Nettlemist asked softly, Patchpelt's kits resting against his tail.

Voletail rolled her eyes at his words "I'm just questioning why you're here and not hunting or fighting for the clan"

Nettlemist looked a little taken aback by his words "I..I never really liked that life, I've always been interested in nursery life"

"You don't even have a mate or kits"

"The kits I've cared for are my kits" Nettlemist replied

Voletail laughed at that "You're pathetic for thinking that"

The nursery was silent, all eyes on Voletail.

"What is wrong you?" Icefire hissed, pulling Nettlesong close when it looked like the tom was about to cry.

"No not just that, what's wrong with you and Seedspots?" Embereyes said, standing beside Icefire while glaring at them "We raised you and then you mock us, what did we do to deserve this?"

"Being weak" Seedspots stated, her tone wasn't as harsh as Voletail's but it still stung "Nettlemist, I don't wish death on you or Embereyes but the clan is just enabling you two to laze about, Icefire you shouldn't follow their example"

"You're in the nursery" Graystripe hissed "Embereyes is training Amberpaw"

"Only because Thymeroot wouldn't leave me alone" Seedspots shrugged

"only because we were running out of cats useful" Voletail sneered

"Perfect words" Robinwing mewed

Nettlemist started crying into Icefire's fur and Embereyes looked furious. Icefire about his mouth to speak but Thymeroot stopped him. "I think you've overstayed your welcome" the seer said firmly "Get out Voletail and do something if you think your so high and mightily instead of mocking two cats who've done nothing wrong"

"But-"

"I can have any warrior escort me, you've lost the privilege"

Voletail huffed "Whatever" and left the den.

Thymeroot sighed "I'm so sorry"

"Don't apologize for something you didn't do" Embereyes replied, trying to clear her tears

"I'm going to rip that foxheart" Graystripe growled coming over to Nettlemist "Don't shed tears for him brother"

/

"Thank you Gorsepaw" Crowfur rasped

"Your welcome" Gorsepaw replied "Do you need your ticks cracked?"

The old tom "I'm alright, you can go youngster"

Gorsepaw smiled and grabbed the soaked moss and padded into the dirt place to dump it. They had finished burying the soiled moss when they heard their sisters call their name. "Gorsepaw Gorsepaw"

It had taken some time from talking with Runningbrook and Ashfoot but they now knew they were a moggy, Morningflower and Quailpaw had hugged them when they came out.

"Yeah?"

"Come, mom wants to show us something" Quailpaw replied

"She said it's something all Windclan cats need to learn" Brairpaw added

Gorsepaw's mind buzzed hearing that. "What about Weaselwhisker, Deadfoot, or Robinpelt?"

"They're waiting for us, now come on" Quailpaw was shoving them now.

Gorsepaw chuckled "Okay okay"

They quickly followed Quailpaw out of camp, nearly crashing into Darkfoot, and Bristleclaw.

"Watch it moor-runner" Darkfoot hissed.

"Sorry" Quailpaw called

They rushed past the camp guard on watch, Woolcloud and headed to the tree stump.

Gorsepaw saw his mentor, Deadfoot, and Robinpelt but also their mother, Cloudrunner, Rushtail, and Duskstar.

"Glad you two decided to join us" Rushtail drawled

"Gorsepaw was taking care of the elders" Quailpaw stated as she sat next to Robinpelt.

"You didn't have to keep doing it Gorsepaw" Weaselwhisker mewed

"I know but I wanted to" Gorsepaw replied

"Alright then" Duskstar lifted his long black and white tail "We will be learning Badger talk"

"Why would we talk to Badgers?" Brairpaw asked "Don't we attack them like any other clan?"

"Windclan tries to live in peace with the badgers" Morningflower mewed

"They like our territory to have their cubs" Weaselwhisker added

"We protect their cubs and they help us with food" Rushtail finished

"Exactly" Duskstar purred "We learned their speak and we teach them ours" He turned and started to lead them to the badger set.

Gorsepaw was anxious, talking with a badger and not attacking it?

They saw the burrow, Duskstar let out a growling sound and a small black and white head poked out. It was a badger cub, probably a few weeks old. A few more cubs began to tumble out of the burrow, eyeing the Windclan cats with curiosity.

"Do we talk to them?" Quailpaw asked

"Not them yet" Rushtail warned

"We talk to mama first" Cloudrunner added

Gorsepaw realized the white tom was right when they saw the mother badger pad out of the burrow, pulling her cubs to her. Gorsepaw steadied their breathe and reminded themself that they would be fine.

/

"Icefire" Bluestar called. Icefire looked up from his thrush he had been sharing with Birchstep and Mousefur.

"Could you come with me to check the tides near twolegplace?" Bluestar asked "I need to know if our other food source is gone or not"

Bluestar had punished Voletail for insulting the royalty, she was on nursery and elder duty until further notice.

"Alright" he replied "Should we take any others?"

"It's fine"

"What?" Mousefur said in shock

"I've been hearing some things around twolegplace" Bluestar mewed "I don't want more death and I want to check it myself"

"I'll take a patrol near twolegplace and the Shadowclan border" Mousefur mewed "If I may?"

"You can, take cats with you who won't cause a fight"

"Of course Bluestar" Birchstep assured

Mousefur stood up "I'll get Ebonyshade, Brackenfur, Cranewing, Frostbite, and Sunnypaw"

It didn't take too long to head near twolegplace. They searched the area, helped some kittypets from soggy areas.

They started to double back when the conversation began:

"Tell Graystripe to keep his scents in check"

Icefire tried not to flinch in shock "Takes one to know one right?"

Bluestar hummed

"How did it go down exactly?"

"It was only exposed when I wanted it to be" Bluestar mewed "It was a harsh leaf-bare and my milk was drying up, I couldn't feed them"

"Were there no other queens at the time to help?"

"White-eye was dealing with Mousefur and Birchstep and I couldn't ask her to doom her litter for me" Bluestar sighed "I made my choice and life goes on, let's see how Graystripe fairs"

"So having a mate from another clan is worse than having one outside the clans?" Icefire asked "Patchpelt isn't punished"

"The standards of clan life aren't fair especially when you see it from in outsider's view such as yourself"

"I'm pretty sure the only reason I wasn't punished was because Brokenstar raped me"

"Unfortunately I agree with you" Bluestar replied "The laws protect those kits when it's obvious rather than...others"

"Like your experience with raising Mossthorn?" Bluestar stiffen "with Thistleclaw?"

Bluestar sighed once again, leaping over a tree stump.

"I was too caught up in my anger towards and ignored my own kits pain, I thank Yellowfang in more ways than one"

"What about Thistleclaw?"

"Too caught up in his hatred, sometimes I hate that I listened to Leopardstorm and Tiger-roar ideas of being mates with him" Bluestar curled her lip "He was a strong warrior no doubt about it but he's answer to everything was a fight, it wasn't a way to live I thought when Snowstrike became mates with him that things could get better and curve his anger but good things don't last"

"Who's Snowstrike?"

"My littermate, Leopardstorm's mother, she and I had gotten into an argument and we found a Shadowclan patrol" Bluestar looked away "She was too battle hungry from being stuck in the nursery and she..." Bluestar seemed to choke a little "she...got hit by a monster or car as you say"

"I'm sorry, it must've been awful watching that"

"Not as awful as having to bury her body by the Thunderpath to not horrify her own son, mate, and her clanmates" Bluestar looked down at her paws "I hated the Thunderpath more than I already did that day"

Icefire laid his tail on Bluestar's back and licked her head. It was silent for a few moments both of them taking in the silence.

Of course, we aren't allowed to have nice things.

"Help! Someone help me!"

Icefire and Bluestar rushed to where the vice came from, Icefire spotted a cat covered on mud and stuck in a hole and it was filling up. "Chocolate?"

"Splinter, help please!" The housecat was trying to push something up "Duskthorn got knocked out trying to help me"

'Of course the cat I tried to kill is here' he thought with annoyance

Bluestar jumped into the hole, mud staining her blue-gray fur, she started shoving Chocolate upwards and Icefire grabbed the tabby's scruff. Bluestar gave a hard shove and Chocolate launched forward dragging Duskthorn with him. Icefire fell backwards and Chocolate was panting on top of him.

"We're taking this two back to camp" Bluestar stated, shaking her muddied fur "Pinestar got busy"

Icefire groaned as a response.

[readerficsbyhyaku]

On the verge of broken dreams (Hop x Reader) Part 2

author’s note

Okay so this may be slow burn-ish. I’m the most impatient fuck but i had a great idea for this story so, in the event i actually finish it, it should be cool. Btw you can follow me/bookmark this on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyaku . Makes it easier to read all the chapters too.

The next day, you were up early to prepare for your match against Leon. As time went by, you felt your stomach begin to coil into knots, tension building up steadily inside you. When you changed into your gym uniform, you weren’t sure what scared you the most. Was is losing, and that all you had done up until now would be worthless ? Or was it winning and making all that Leon had done until now voided ? Thinking about Leon losing was a crazy thought in itself, but thinking about what consequences that would have was far more terrifying.

And it didn’t help that Leon looked so alike to Hop, you couldn’t help but be reminded of how you had robbed your best friend of his goal in life. But for the sake of everybody cheering you in the stadium, your mom rooting for you at home, your Pokémons, your friends… You had to battle with all your might. You couldn’t half-ass it right now.

You sighed while checking your shoelaces were nicely tied. It wasn’t use torturing yourself about it right now. Leon was undefeated after all, you might as well be just another pebble on his throne of victory.

As the stadium staff told you it was your turn to get onto the pitch, the ball in your stomach became unbelievably heavy. The dozen steps you had to take in the small tunnel under the rows of seats seemed to stretch like gum, your legs feeling numb and wobbly. But against all odds, you managed to emerge into the blazing lights of Wyndon Stadium and walked up to the center of it. In front of you, Leon was doing the same, the widest smile on his face and an absolutely confident demeanor.

There was no way you could beat him, right ?

He grinned at you, saying that he was excited to battle you, that you were promising and such, but his words were drowning in the tension and the cries of everybody around. Then he removed his cape in a swift movement and the battle began.

If you were bedazzled by the atmosphere of the champion fight at first, muscle memory came back after a few instants and your Pokémon synced in with you perfectly. You didn’t have the best or most optimal team by type standards, but you had Pokémon you loved and they gave it back to you tenfold. You could trust them to take a hard hit and still stand up, to fight until the end and then a bit more. Where sometimes you felt in a pinch or at loss for action, your friends compensated by going all in and brute forcing the opposite team with an energy you’d rarely seen before.

And, at last, you were up against Leon’s Charizard. While the orange dragon looked nothing too impressive in his normal form, that was bound to change when the champion gigantamaxed him. Looming over the field, the enormous reptile taunted your whole team. So you did the same, sending one of your Pokémon to dynamax. It wasn’t as flashy as Leon’s throw and transformation, but you found your Pokémon to be way cooler.

Picking one of Charizard’s weaknesses, you ordered your attack but the big dragon was faster. And even if your Pokémon wasn’t weak to fire per se, it hit him, hard. Charizard was in no better shape though, and looking up at your Pokémon, you mouthed a silent “sorry”. You couldn’t draw him out before the next attack, and he knew that if he avoided this one, it would fall on another teammate. So he toughened up and waited for your orders, head held high. Charizard scorched the battlefield again, and your Pokémon fainted in a gigantic explosion of dynamax energy and fire, retreating immediately to his Pokéball.

“You did great” you muttered while choosing who was going next.

Charizard only had one turn in Gigantamax left, so you chose another tough Pokémon that should be able to withstand at least one hit. Just one. You sent your pick next, and it was then that you realized you were one hit close to beating Leon. The undefeatable champion.

Staring at him across the field, you saw sweat dripping on his brow, and his usually wide, beaming eyes were now looking very concentrated, and maybe worried. He was down to his last Pokémon, which hadn’t happened in a long time. His eyebrows were frowned, and his hand hovered to his Pokéball belt in a protective manner.

Your heart ached again, being reminded how you had already broken Hop, and were possibly about to do the same to his brother. Your mind raced and you almost wanted to give up. You didn’t want to beat him, did you ? You wanted to… but you didn’t want to rob him of his future. There was no way you could see Leon as something else than the champion of Galar, and the one Hop was looking up to.

Your eyes wandered into the public and on the front row, you saw Sonia, Marnie, all the gym leaders and… Hop. Hop was there, cheering but you couldn’t hear what he was screaming. Even from the distance, your gazes met, and Hop seemed to smile even wider. Your stomach flipped upside down, hair standing up on the back of your neck. Was he cheering you ? Baffled, you pointed at yourself while wearing the most puzzled expression, and Hop started waving like crazy and jumping around.

You couldn’t let him down a second time.

The ball in your gut having nestled in your throat, you croakily order your Pokémon to attack one last time, and this time he’s faster than Charizard. You almost don’t see the two creatures collide and then Leon’s Pokémon is out in an explosion. And he has not one more to spare.

The public roars louder than you’ve ever heard and for a moment it blanks out every other sensation or thought in your body. You can see Leon hiding his face with his cap, something you’ve never seen him do before. The sound gradually dies down as the public waits for a speech from their new champion, but you can’t move a finger.

Hopefully, Leon saves you once more and pulls you into a hug. You’re thankful he did, because your legs wouldn’t have held you much longer. You wrap your arms around him and try very hard to keep the tears at bay, your arms trembling and your head feeling fuzzy like a Cottonee. Leon finally pulls away and says, a mix of sadness and joy in his voice

“I’m so glad I battled you. It was one of the best matches I ever had.”

Then he grabs your hand to raise it high in the sky and claims

“Galar, you have a new Champion !!”

And the public screams again, a thunderous sound that shakes the walls of the stadium and almost makes you fall.

After waving and smiling a few times, maybe uttering a few thank yous, you retreat to your locker room, still stunned.

You’re the champion. You have beaten Leon. Was it the right choice, though ? You didn’t really have any other…

You felt too exhausted to change, and Leon had given you his big cape “For the time being”. You didn’t quite listen to him, so either he was willing to take back his title, or it was for the time your official champion uniform took to be made. Either way, it made you feel safer, and if everything was too much you could just curl up under it and forget about the world, and what a horrible person you were.

Moving out of the locker room, you were assaulted by a crowd of reporters and people calling your name, asking you questions, going as far as grabbing your hands, your clothes, touching you. You smiled weakly while tugging the cape closer to you, and then the crowd parted a bit. You saw Hop rush towards you and literally jump onto you.

“You did it, mate !!!” he exclaimed while giving you the biggest, tightest hug you ever felt from him.

His eyes were gleaming, his smile was the widest, and he couldn’t stay in place. He looked so happy for you but you couldn’t help but think he should’ve been in your place.

You wanted to tell him how much you were sorry, how bad you felt, how you didn’t deserve any of this. Maybe you wanted him to be mad at you, just a little bit, so you wouldn’t feel like such a fraud. But the words were stuck in your throat, your head spinning because of the amount of people around you.

So you did the next logical thing : you grabbed Hop and ran into one of the elevators that were inside the lobby, and ordered the doors to be closed. Pressing a random floor button, you sighed as the sound of the crowd grew lower and thinner. Hop was taken aback, staring at you with a puzzled look.

“Hop, I’m so sorry !”

You grabbed him by the shoulders, to anchor you and not run away rather than the other way round. The words spilled from your mouth and there was nothing to stop them.

“I’ve done it again… I’ve taken Leon’s dream after taking yours, I’m the worst.”

You felt the ball starting to rise again, much quicker, and your voice cracked and shivered.

“I tried to find a way out. I wanted to stop it, to give up, to say I didn’t want to be the champion. I would’ve done anything, anything. You should’ve been the one facing him, Hop”

Your voice broke as you said his name and you couldn’t say anything more, tears threatening to spill over.

Hop called your name gently a few times, until you rose your head to look at him, eyes glistening.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault I couldn’t get to battle Leon, if it was anyone’s fault it was mine. And you did a great job today, don’t let anyone tell you you’re not worthy of being the champion.”

While he was saying that, he was rubbing gentle circles onto your shoulders to ease up the tension, and was giving you a very soft smile. His eyes were proud yet muddled with worry, and you felt another pang of guilt in your heart. You made him worry…

“As for Leon, I’m sure he’ll deal with it. If he was scared of losing his title, he wouldn’t endorse anyone. He looked like he was having fun, he’ll get over it.”

You stared into his eyes as he tried to reason and calm you. You wanted to believe him so much. You wanted to push all the terrible thoughts you held for yourself far, far away.

Even if he wasn’t your rival anymore, you still felt some yearning for him. There was something drawing you to him and in this instant, you wanted to stay like this forever. Just you and him, holding him and being held. His voice telling you that everything would be okay, soft whispers to soothe the turbulent emotions inside of you.

The elevator slowed down and you realized you were back to the ground floor, the sound of the reporters getting stronger again. You heard a small ding, and knew the doors would open soon.

Hop seemed to be lost in the same reverie as you, his stare gliding over your features, hands a bit firmer, stronger onto your shoulders. His long lashes fluttered when his gaze lowered and you wanted to see him do it again.

The doors started to open with a low hiss and, by Arceus, you wanted to slam the button to close the door so hard. You wanted this instant to last just a bit longer before being caught in the whirlpool of reality again so much. But you couldn’t. As the doors revealed the crowd to you and you to the crowd, the moment was over and Hop’s hand quickly fell from your body as he stared at the horde of fans, a bit intimidated.

As you went out of the elevator, you smiled at the crowd and signed autographs, and when one of the nosiest journalists asked what you were doing with your rival, you answered

“Hop is my friend, and will always be. He is my friend before being my rival, and I’m his friend before being the Champion. The fact that I have won changes nothing, as we both fought with all we had.”

You at least wanted to make things a little bit right for him. This wouldn’t erase anything, but you wanted him to know… you would’ve done anything for him.

[fanficshiddles]

Alluring whispers, Chapter 2

‘How could you forget to tell us that Loki is an Alpha?’ Steve shouted at Thor.

‘I did not think it relevant. And I… forgot.’ Thor chuckled but it died away when he saw the rest of the team looking pissed off at him.

‘This is bad, really bad.’ Bruce said.

‘Surely it’s not that bad? Just because he’s an Alpha and she’s an omega doesn’t mean anything. Loki is locked up in the cell, and Hope has no reason to go down there.’ Clint said, a bit confused as to why everyone was freaking out so much.

‘If Loki could tell she was here, then I would be surprised if Hope doesn’t know an Alpha is here too. It’s in their biology to gravitate to one another. Even more so with them being so rare.’ Bruce explained.

‘Well… if it seems like there’s going to be a problem, isn’t there suppressants she can take?’ Wanda suggested.

‘You’re right. There is!’ Natasha said and quickly pulled out her phone. ‘There aren’t many pharmacists that sell them anymore, due to omegas dying out. But they used to be in huge demand to keep their heats at bay. Hope wouldn’t have had to be on them because there was no Alpha on the same planet as her. But now that’s changed… well, we might need to get some for her.’

Tony ran his hand down his face. ‘This is totally out of my zone of knowledge too. How do some of you know so much about omegas?’

‘You mean there’s actually something that the great Tony Stark doesn’t have a clue on?’ Steve asked mockingly.

Tony glared at Steve. ‘Watch it, Cap’.’

‘I learned about them in Russia while I was being trained… Bingo!’ Natasha said, finding a result for a pharmacist in New York that stocked what they may need.

‘I just thought it was general knowledge about the Alphas and omegas.’ Bruce shrugged.

‘I’d heard of them but didn’t know anything about them, to be honest.’ Clint said sheepishly.

‘Uh, guys… We already have a problem.’ Said Vision, looking at the security cameras.

The team rushed over to see what he meant. All of them panicked when they saw Hope making her way down to the basement area, where the prison cells were.

-

Hope felt really weird, like there was an itch inside of her that she couldn’t get to. She’d never felt anything like it before. And she was sure she was going crazy, but she thought she could smell an Alpha… The most delightful smell she had ever smelt.

Following her instincts, and her nose, she made her way through the base. She was a bit surprised to find her feet carrying her downstairs towards the cells where they held any prisoners. But she couldn’t stop herself from going there. Like her body knew where to go, even if her mind didn’t.

When she opened the door and walked in slowly, there was just one large cell in the middle of the room, all glass-like. And in the middle of said cell, she saw a tall figure with his back to her. His scent hit her like a brick wall and made her mind go hazy.

Her legs turned to jelly as she took small tentative steps towards the cell. She stopped halfway there.

‘Come closer, little omega.’

His deep voice went right through her like a drug. Obeying the Alpha, she took a few more steps towards him. When he turned around, she gasped.

He was beautiful.

Loki was transfixed on the girl on front of him. She was a like a Goddess. He stalked towards the front of the cell, not taking his eyes off her for even a second.

They were both silent for a moment, taking one another in for the first time. Then a smirk spread across Loki’s lips and he motioned her closer to him with a finger.

Being an omega, she would want to do whatever an Alpha said. Which wasn’t always a good thing…

Hope took the last few steps towards him, but then she was snapped out of her trance-like state when the team came rushing in. Wanda used her powers to put up an energy wall between Hope and the front of Loki’s cell, so she couldn’t see him anymore.

Natasha rushed over and guided the omega away, out of the prison room. She saw Hope’s eyes changing, they had been glazed over, in a trance. Now they were back to normal.

Tony, Thor and Steve glared at Loki, who just smirked at them.

‘She is delightful.’ He purred.

‘You are not to touch her, Loki.’ Thor demanded, pointing at him.

‘How do you expect me to touch her while I’m locked in here?’ Loki put his arms out and chuckled as he stepped back into the middle of his cell. ‘But do you really think that you can keep her away from me? That you can stop simple biology?’

Thor’s face was like thunder, so angry at the way Loki was acting.

‘Come on, Thor. He’s just trying to wind you up.’ Steve put his hand on Thor’s shoulder, the three of them left the room. Hearing Loki’s laughter right before they closed the door.

Upstairs, Natasha had taken Hope to the living room and got her some coffee.

‘Are you ok?’ She asked.

‘Yeah… I… I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just felt this really strong pull towards him.’ She swallowed hard and took a sip of her coffee.

‘He’s an Alpha and you’re an omega. It’s natural to feel like that.’ Bruce said, joining them.

‘But he’s… well, he’s a villain.’ Hope said, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe how mesmerised she had been by him.

‘Clint and Wanda have gone to the pharmacist to get suppressants, that should hopefully help to control your urges for him. Don’t worry, it will be alright.’ Tony assured her, but the look he gave the others wasn’t one of reassurance.

When Clint and Wanda returned with the tablets, Hope took some straight away and went to bed. She asked for the team to lock her in, until the tablets got into her system. But they wouldn’t do that. Instead, Bruce set up a sensor outside her door so if she left her room, they would be alerted instantly.

‘What are we going to do?’ Vision asked, the team were all sat around together having a drink.

‘We need to move him, it’s not safe for Hope him being here.’ Said Wanda.

‘Not possible. We are the only place that can contain him and his magic. We will have to hope the suppressants work and that we can keep them apart.’ Steve said.

‘They will have to be in the same room at times though, since Loki probably won’t tell us where the tesseract is willingly, we will need her to heal him when we interrogate him.’ Natasha sighed.

‘Well, maybe that’s not a good idea anymore. You know she doesn’t like it when we do that anyway.’ Bruce grumbled.

He didn’t really like doing that tactic either. He thought it was cruel, even if it was Loki.

‘Let’s just calm down and see what tomorrow brings. You never know, Loki might give us the information we need sooner than later.’ Steve said, trying to calm things down.

‘I doubt it.’ Natasha snorted.

-

The following day, the team didn’t waste any time with interrogating Loki. But it wasn’t easy, he wasn’t giving up any information at all. Instead, he kept asking about Hope…

‘So what’s her name?’ He asked cheerily, sitting on the edge of his bed in his cell.

‘Who’s name?’ Steve frowned, he and Natasha were outside his cell, trying to ask questions.

‘The omega. She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? I bet she has a name to match.’ Loki smiled then bit into the apple he was given for breakfast. Not the most substantial meal, but it was better than nothing.

‘We are not here to answer questions, Loki.’ Natasha said through gritted teeth.

‘Where is she from? I know she’s not Midgardian, that’s quite obvious from her hair colour. It’s natural.’ He said so casually as if commenting on the weather.

Steve rolled his eyes and sighed. He was getting irritated, and so was Nat.

‘Shut up, Loki. We are not here to talk about Hope. We are here to talk about you.’ She blurted out, not thinking. But the way Loki’s face lit up, she realised she’d slipped up.

‘Ah, so her name is Hope. That’s a lovely name.’

Loki chuckled at the pissed off look on Natasha’s face. He was always able to wrangle out what he wanted from people, one way or another.

‘When am I going to get to meet her?’ He then asked.

‘You’ve already met her. And that’s all you’re getting.’ Steve folded his arms over his chest.

Loki laughed. ‘That was not a meeting. That was merely a glance, a quick look at what is mine.’ Loki stood up and started walking slowly around his cell.

‘She is not yours.’ Steve snapped, getting defensive he clenched his fists at his sides.

‘Oh, but she is. Do you see any other Alphas on this realm?’ Loki put his arms out at his side while he looked around the room, for effect.

Steve just narrowed his eyes at him, not liking where the conversation was going.

‘That does not give you a right of way to her. She’s under our protection, and you are not getting her.’ Steve said firmly, then he motioned to Natasha and they both left.

Thor, Clint and Vision decided to try later that day. But they didn’t get anywhere either. Loki kept asking questions again about Hope. Vision kept quiet. Thor almost slipped up a few times, but Clint kept stomping on his foot to shut him up.

‘You are all so desperate to get the tesseract. But just how desperate are you?’ Loki asked, pacing back and fore slowly at the side of his cell.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Clint asked.

‘I am willing to make a deal, a bargain, for your precious tesseract.’

‘What kind of deal?’ Clint asked cautiously.

‘I will tell you all you need to know, including where the tesseract is, on one condition and one condition only…’ He trailed off and stopped, turning to face them all.

‘You give me the omega.’ Loki grinned wickedly.

[imagine-loki]

Alluring whispers, Chapter 2

TITLE: Alluring whispers CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki has the tesseract again and is captured by The Avengers. Where he discovers they have an omega who has healing powers living with them. He’s an Alpha and he wants her,badly. She is the epitome of all things good, and trying her best to avoid his seductive advances. But it’s not easy due to their instincts and biology. The Avengers do their best to keep the omega safe, but Loki is on the hunt and is hungry for her. RATING: M

‘How could you forget to tell us that Loki is an Alpha?’ Steve shouted at Thor.

‘I did not think it relevant. And I… forgot.’ Thor chuckled but it died away when he saw the rest of the team looking pissed off at him.

‘This is bad, really bad.’ Bruce said.

‘Surely it’s not that bad? Just because he’s an Alpha and she’s an omega doesn’t mean anything. Loki is locked up in the cell, and Hope has no reason to go down there.’ Clint said, a bit confused as to why everyone was freaking out so much.

‘If Loki could tell she was here, then I would be surprised if Hope doesn’t know an Alpha is here too. It’s in their biology to gravitate to one another. Even more so with them being so rare.’ Bruce explained.

‘Well… if it seems like there’s going to be a problem, isn’t there suppressants she can take?’ Wanda suggested.

‘You’re right. There is!’ Natasha said and quickly pulled out her phone. ‘There aren’t many pharmacists that sell them anymore, due to omegas dying out. But they used to be in huge demand to keep their heats at bay. Hope wouldn’t have had to be on them because there was no Alpha on the same planet as her. But now that’s changed… well, we might need to get some for her.’

Tony ran his hand down his face. ‘This is totally out of my zone of knowledge too. How do some of you know so much about omegas?’

‘You mean there’s actually something that the great Tony Stark doesn’t have a clue on?’ Steve asked mockingly.

Tony glared at Steve. ‘Watch it, Cap’.’

‘I learned about them in Russia while I was being trained… Bingo!’ Natasha said, finding a result for a pharmacist in New York that stocked what they may need.

‘I just thought it was general knowledge about the Alphas and omegas.’ Bruce shrugged.

‘I’d heard of them but didn’t know anything about them, to be honest.’ Clint said sheepishly.

‘Uh, guys… We already have a problem.’ Said Vision, looking at the security cameras.

The team rushed over to see what he meant. All of them panicked when they saw Hope making her way down to the basement area, where the prison cells were.

-

Hope felt really weird, like there was an itch inside of her that she couldn’t get to. She’d never felt anything like it before. And she was sure she was going crazy, but she thought she could smell an Alpha… The most delightful smell she had ever smelt.

Following her instincts, and her nose, she made her way through the base. She was a bit surprised to find her feet carrying her downstairs towards the cells where they held any prisoners. But she couldn’t stop herself from going there. Like her body knew where to go, even if her mind didn’t.

When she opened the door and walked in slowly, there was just one large cell in the middle of the room, all glass-like. And in the middle of said cell, she saw a tall figure with his back to her. His scent hit her like a brick wall and made her mind go hazy.

Her legs turned to jelly as she took small tentative steps towards the cell. She stopped halfway there.

‘Come closer, little omega.’

His deep voice went right through her like a drug. Obeying the Alpha, she took a few more steps towards him. When he turned around, she gasped.

He was beautiful.

Loki was transfixed on the girl on front of him. She was a like a Goddess. He stalked towards the front of the cell, not taking his eyes off her for even a second.

They were both silent for a moment, taking one another in for the first time. Then a smirk spread across Loki’s lips and he motioned her closer to him with a finger. 

Being an omega, she would want to do whatever an Alpha said. Which wasn’t always a good thing…

Hope took the last few steps towards him, but then she was snapped out of her trance-like state when the team came rushing in. Wanda used her powers to put up an energy wall between Hope and the front of Loki’s cell, so she couldn’t see him anymore.

Natasha rushed over and guided the omega away, out of the prison room. She saw Hope’s eyes changing, they had been glazed over, in a trance. Now they were back to normal.

Tony, Thor and Steve glared at Loki, who just smirked at them.

‘She is delightful.’ He purred.

‘You are not to touch her, Loki.’ Thor demanded, pointing at him.

‘How do you expect me to touch her while I’m locked in here?’ Loki put his arms out and chuckled as he stepped back into the middle of his cell. ‘But do you really think that you can keep her away from me? That you can stop simple biology?’

Thor’s face was like thunder, so angry at the way Loki was acting.

‘Come on, Thor. He’s just trying to wind you up.’ Steve put his hand on Thor’s shoulder, the three of them left the room. Hearing Loki’s laughter right before they closed the door.

Upstairs, Natasha had taken Hope to the living room and got her some coffee.

‘Are you ok?’ She asked.

‘Yeah… I… I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just felt this really strong pull towards him.’ She swallowed hard and took a sip of her coffee.

‘He’s an Alpha and you’re an omega. It’s natural to feel like that.’ Bruce said, joining them.

‘But he’s… well, he’s a villain.’ Hope said, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe how mesmerised she had been by him.

‘Clint and Wanda have gone to the pharmacist to get suppressants, that should hopefully help to control your urges for him. Don’t worry, it will be alright.’ Tony assured her, but the look he gave the others wasn’t one of reassurance.

When Clint and Wanda returned with the tablets, Hope took some straight away and went to bed. She asked for the team to lock her in, until the tablets got into her system. But they wouldn’t do that. Instead, Bruce set up a sensor outside her door so if she left her room, they would be alerted instantly.

‘What are we going to do?’ Vision asked, the team were all sat around together having a drink.

‘We need to move him, it’s not safe for Hope him being here.’ Said Wanda.

‘Not possible. We are the only place that can contain him and his magic. We will have to hope the suppressants work and that we can keep them apart.’ Steve said.

‘They will have to be in the same room at times though, since Loki probably won’t tell us where the tesseract is willingly, we will need her to heal him when we interrogate him.’ Natasha sighed.

‘Well, maybe that’s not a good idea anymore. You know she doesn’t like it when we do that anyway.’ Bruce grumbled.

He didn’t really like doing that tactic either. He thought it was cruel, even if it was Loki.

‘Let’s just calm down and see what tomorrow brings. You never know, Loki might give us the information we need sooner than later.’ Steve said, trying to calm things down.

‘I doubt it.’ Natasha snorted.

-

The following day, the team didn’t waste any time with interrogating Loki. But it wasn’t easy, he wasn’t giving up any information at all. Instead, he kept asking about Hope…

‘So what’s her name?’ He asked cheerily, sitting on the edge of his bed in his cell.

‘Who’s name?’ Steve frowned, he and Natasha were outside his cell, trying to ask questions.

‘The omega. She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? I bet she has a name to match.’ Loki smiled then bit into the apple he was given for breakfast. Not the most substantial meal, but it was better than nothing.

‘We are not here to answer questions, Loki.’ Natasha said through gritted teeth.

‘Where is she from? I know she’s not Midgardian, that’s quite obvious from her hair colour. It’s natural.’ He said so casually as if commenting on the weather.

Steve rolled his eyes and sighed. He was getting irritated, and so was Nat.

‘Shut up, Loki. We are not here to talk about Hope. We are here to talk about you.’ She blurted out, not thinking. But the way Loki’s face lit up, she realised she’d slipped up.

‘Ah, so her name is Hope. That’s a lovely name.’

Loki chuckled at the pissed off look on Natasha’s face. He was always able to wrangle out what he wanted from people, one way or another.

‘When am I going to get to meet her?’ He then asked.

‘You’ve already met her. And that’s all you’re getting.’ Steve folded his arms over his chest.

Loki laughed. ‘That was not a meeting. That was merely a glance, a quick look at what is mine.’ Loki stood up and started walking slowly around his cell.

‘She is not yours.’ Steve snapped, getting defensive he clenched his fists at his sides.

‘Oh, but she is. Do you see any other Alphas on this realm?’ Loki put his arms out at his side while he looked around the room, for effect.

Steve just narrowed his eyes at him, not liking where the conversation was going.

‘That does not give you a right of way to her. She’s under our protection, and you are not getting her.’ Steve said firmly, then he motioned to Natasha and they both left.

Thor, Clint and Vision decided to try later that day. But they didn’t get anywhere either. Loki kept asking questions again about Hope. Vision kept quiet. Thor almost slipped up a few times, but Clint kept stomping on his foot to shut him up.

‘You are all so desperate to get the tesseract. But just how desperate are you?’ Loki asked, pacing back and fore slowly at the side of his cell.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Clint asked.

‘I am willing to make a deal, a bargain, for your precious tesseract.’

‘What kind of deal?’ Clint asked cautiously.

‘I will tell you all you need to know, including where the tesseract is, on one condition and one condition only…’ He trailed off and stopped, turning to face them all.

‘You give me the omega.’ Loki grinned wickedly.

[1arcana2cubed3]

What good is a dream? #2

Chapter One

Chapter Two:

They are there in my memories, scattered among the big, long, important ones. They look the same, which I find brings me an odd mix of both fear and relief; at least something is familiar in this mess of uncertainty and desolation, though they’re one of the last things I would have wished upon myself. They worked with the tall one and I, deep under the palace where it was all red light and stale air and things that skittered in the darkness. They had a voice like ice and their words, though beyond my reach, carried the same quality. I never felt anything but unease around them, and the tall one showed me in actions, if not words, that he felt the same. Now more than ever, actions are far more important.

They cock their head in an odd unsettling way, as if they haven’t quite figured out how to move like a human, and I can’t say I blame them on that account. Their voice hisses forward again, and it sounds as though it was birthed in some dark void within them. I stare, wide eyed, focused on keeping myself upright and, if at all possible, keeping some distance between me and the reptilian-eyed person advancing on me.

Distance proves to be impossible, for as soon as I move my working arm, I can only keep my balance for a few seconds and I flop back onto the dusty covers, coughing as it threatens to choke me. Again, the sickly, green-skinned intruder says something and still, I cannot reply. A noise bubbles up from my throat, meaningless, but so full of meaning, brimming with a thousand questions and terrors that I wish I had the words to express. They produce a small glinting piece of metal with a long handle from their apron and bring it down on my leg. I know what that is. I know what it does. We used them before in the underground to cut open flesh with the intent to heal. Instantly, a band of pain circles my leg and forces the air from my lungs in a strangled cry. The intruder watches me with cool interest, head still cocked, eyes still unblinking, and they replace the weapon in their pocket before crooning at me some more in their cold voice.

They grab my chin and turn my head this way and that, inspecting my features and hair, they lift my limbs and bend and prod and poke, eyes flicking from my face to my body with growing fascination as I cry out in no language and shake and twitch in a fruitless effort to get away. They take special interest in my useless arm and cut into it not once, but twice before they’re satisfied and leave me shaking, confused and once again alone in this dusty, dark space. I feel heat drip down my arm and leg where the wounds weep at the stinging pain left in the wake of their investigation. 

As the minutes pass silently, I begin to weep as well. I am alone when I shouldn’t be, immobilized when I shouldn’t be, silenced when I shouldn’t be. I am in a body that is not mine and doesn’t work and the only one who seems to know I’m here is a reptilian nightmare from my half-remembered past who sliced me open and left me behind. The yellow haired man’s beasts have even abandoned me.

When the tears have cooled into itchy tracks on my face and the blood has slowed to an ooze, I renew my effort to sit up. They will surely be back, and it’s in my interest to find help before they do. If I could only get to the beasts, they could help. They would help. They couldn’t be loved so well by the yellow-haired man and not help me.

If one good thing came from Their visit, it was a crash course in limb movement. By the time they left, I had established at least a cursory knowledge of what impulses made which limb move. This time, it only takes me a few minutes to pull myself up, and I immediately throw my momentum toward the door. I know what’s going to happen, so it isn’t a surprise when I crumple to the cold ground at the edge of the bed. 

Again, I remember falling from the yellow-haired man’s arms, I, too weak to stay on my feet and he, too weak to keep me there. I remember the feeling of hopelessness as I landed there and knew that was it. I was so sick. I was so sick, and I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be anywhere. I should be gone, vapor, ash and smoke, not struggling to move my unwieldy not-my body across this dark, hauntingly familiar space. There’s too much I don’t know to be relieved. I look around, my head lolling weakly and weirdly as I take in my surroundings for the first time.

Everything is dark and coated in a fine powder that now, as I run my fingers through it, I realize is not just dust, but something more sinister, something that smells like heavy gray clouds of heat. There is a great hulking shape at my back, the soft that I fell off of, and it infuriates me that I can’t come up with a word for it, but it was a place of sleep, of dark quiet and peace. It was a place that I shared with each of the three men at one time or another. First in a loving way, then out of necessity, then out of the desperation of two people at the end of the line.

It looks like the one I last fell asleep in, when I never thought I’d open my eyes again. The one I shared with the yellow haired man. But instead of regal red drapes, the fabric hangs in scorched tatters. A shudder slips down my back as I think about the distinction and what could have happened to make it so. Shoving the slippery past to the back of my mind, I begin the long journey across the ground.

It’s slow going and I’m not as skilled with my legs as with my good arm. My bad arm gets in the way, tripping me up and failing to be there when I need it. Inch by messy inch, I haul myself to the door. What little light managed to slip past the heavy curtains on the windows is all but gone by the time my shaking fingers finally touch the smooth wood of the door. 

Exhausted by the effort, I stop and rest a moment. I’m breathing hard and I haven’t spared a movement to wipe the dried salty tracks on my face or check the crusting cuts on my limbs. I try to do so as I lay there, but moving my arm up to my face or down to my lower leg is such a large and precise motion that I eventually give up. Just as I’m beginning the new task of trying to open the door, I hear footsteps and voices beyond.

I stiffen, which given the circumstances, feels like the most natural thing my body has done. I imagine myself standing,  slipping behind the door as it opens then making a break for it once They have their back to me. I spend the few seconds I have lost in this fantasy before the door creaks open and gets caught on my sprawled and useless body.

The voices from the hall pour forth as several people file into the room. Multiple people I recognize but have no names for and no way to communicate with enter.  They are leading the group, tailed by the small one with the milky eye and the squeaky voice, the short, round white one in the red clothes and the tall and spindly gray one. The group begins to talk among themselves, occasionally seeming to address me. Constantly disappointed by my lack of response, they begin to ignore me until the one in red delivers a sound kick to my side. My body twitches and fails to curve in on itself the way I desperately want to. I whimper and manage to slap my arm across the damage. At that moment, under the gaze of four people I’d rather avoid, vulnerable, scared and hurting, my cloudy mind registers the fact that I’m naked. 

Another whimper slides from my throat, but it’s no use to try to cover myself. I’m laid bare, humiliated. Heat pools to the corners of my eyes again. My assailant glances at my face and says something and barks a laugh. Unable to lay still any longer, I reach out to the small one. Out of the four, I think she’s the most likely to help me, but she merely squeaks something, and a pointed foot pins my arm to the ground. I follow it up to the glinting, reptile eyes of Them. 

They press my wrist painfully into the ground while continuing to talk to the others. After several minutes, the group begins to move. They slide cold hands under my arms and the spindly gray one takes my ankles. Together they hoist me into the air. I try to squirm, to break free, but in the air like this, the things I’ve learned about my muscles seem to only barely apply. My heart thunders through my chest as I imagine myself dead, nothing but a corpse being carried away to be burned. Maybe this is what is supposed to happen. Maybe this is what happens to everyone once they’re dead, able to think and feel and remember but not move or speak. Maybe I am nothing but a body with a little bit of stubborn life refusing to let go.

But still, I can feel pain. I know deep inside that nothing good will come from these four taking me away. They won’t save me. I shudder to think what They will do with my helpless body. I let out a keening wail, hoping someone, anyone will hear and stop them from taking me. The white one is suddenly there, gloved hand crushing my throat as he hisses something at me that can only be a threat. Even if I wanted to cry out again, his grip is too tight for the sound to slip by.

As they carry me out of the room I was in, for a moment I catch a glimpse of a large painting hanging on the wall, a magnificent portrait of the yellow haired man. In front of it, only for a second I think I see a translucent white shape, but then it’s gone and I’m out the door and into the cold hall beyond.

My squirming is no match for their practiced grip, and though neither of my kidnappers seem particularly strong, they have the advantage of knowing how to move their bodies. They bear me down a set of steps and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’ve walked these halls. I know where we are and I think I know where they’re taking me, but I can’t do a single damn thing about it. The vice grip around my throat tightens and I gasp for breath, my chest aching as it becomes harder and harder to get air. The last thing I know is an exchange of meaningless words, and then darkness comes on the tide of my aching lungs.

[gwenore]

The Demon’s Opera house.  Chapter 2.

Christine’s head was slumping against the chair, the sounds of the day time bustle of the theater surrounding her, as people were changing into their costume and warming up their voice, among with noises which made this place… home.

But now it was just… noise…

Her mind constantly wandered back when all of these were asleep in their bed and that voice which could drive one off the cliff of Elysium into damnation filled her head.

The mirror…

She had walked past it on her way down in the morning, having tossed and turned in the silence left by that voice. Her hand resting against it.

Had that… happened?

That figure in the mirror.

Even now she could feel that tinge of heat which burned within her fingertips.

But… it could not be reality. It was insanity to even consider…

“Miss Daaé?”

Madam Giry’s voice snapped her out of her daze.

“Yes…” she stuttered, still feeling trapped between this world and… someplace else. A world which could not exist in the world of light.

“How about you practice your part next? Opening night is only days away,” she mentioned towards the stage. Christine swallowed. She had not a big part, but she would sing before a large audience at opening night… she had always just been in the background… a face among many, but now she would share the stage with the primadonna herself.

Not that the primadonna would lower herself to practice with the rest of them of course, but it was such an honor to be able to sing in such a beautiful place, before so many people. Before princes and dukes.

The back of the stage was in darkness, the candles and lamps which had been brought in as the electrical lights would not be turned on until opening night.

“From the top,” Madam Giry’s voice instructed her as she mentioned for the piano to start playing.

As she waited for her cue she felt… something watching her from the darkness, those burning red eyes which would never leave her memory.

She glanced over her shoulder, her breath stuck in her throat, however her eyes were drawn in front again by the reprimanding sound of Madam Giry as her cue was starting.

A sensation rose up within Christine. A feeling which she had never felt before. Burning… raw… and sensual.

Her mouth opened and her voice filled the opera house like it had never done before, causing the people still moving about to stop, and listen, absolutely transfixed.

The words flowed out of her yet she spared no thought for them or what words were to come next.

Christine had always had a beautiful voice… but now it was elevated to something… divine. As if they were in presence of an angel.

The piano player continued playing, but it was not as if he was in control any longer… his hand forcing to move on their own. As if he was possessed.

Christine slowly stepped backwards, her eyes ahead still out towards that imaginary audience until in the darkness she felt herself blocked from going any further.

She felt a man’s form pressed against her back, that hot breath on her neck as he whispered the words of the song in her ear.

Her voice did not even hitch as she felt a pair of hands rest upon her hips, one… the left… she knew that was the hand which she had grasped last night… how she knew she did not know, but there was not a shadow of a doubt within her mind.

And the right…

Those claws which dug into the fabric of her dress could not belong to any man…

Her eyes Madam Giry’s then Meg’s and… did they not see? Did they not see this phantom which had grabbed a hold of her?

This… this demon which held her and made her sing? Sing in a way she had never been able to before?

The creature at her back was utterly indecent as she felt how his hips moved ever so slowly against her back, feeling how her thighs twitched with the sensation of that sinful heat.

Christine felt like she was lost in time and space, between the song and this… this demon.

Part of her wanted to look back… yet she felt that he soul might be damned if she did so.

The song was reaching its climax and Christine did not know how her soul would be able to withstand the heat which threatened to consume her.

As the last note reached it crescendo she felt the figure withdraw from her, just as the applause thundered out among those that were gathered for the rehearsal.

Christine felt as if she was about to collapse, the pianist rubbing his fingers against the cloth of his pants trying to ease them from the spirit of inspiration which had come upon him.

She knew that none of them knew… none of them knew the horror which had happened on the stage… what demon had its claws in her.

Christine now believed in the legend… without a shadow of a doubt.

“I… I need some water for my throat…” it was the first words which breached the trance which she was in.

Madam Giry gave her a nod, and with that Christine rushed of the stage the quickest her trembling legs could carry her.

“That was amazing, mama,” Meg whispered. “If she sings like that on opening night, she will outshine the primadonna herself. I didn’t know Christine could sing like that. She has gotten so much better… do you think she has a teacher?”

“Perhaps the primadonna needs to be outshined…” Madam Giry muttered softly to herself. “As for Christine… she now sings in a way I have only heard once before.”

“When mama?”

However her mother walked away before Meg had even finished asking the question.

  Christine’s heart was beating so loudly that it was the only sound which was ringing in her ears, louder than any music.

Within her raged a battle. She knew that the demon was attempting to lead her somewhere. To tempt her into his lair and then…

The singer closed her eyes even further as she ran, fighting the pull of his demonic powers.

She did not know what he wanted… but she knew that should she be alone with him she would not be able to resist him. That she would fall to the lure of temptation of pleasure.

She did not realize she was falling until the pain hit her knees and wrists as she connected with the carpeted floor. Her foot had been caught by the carpet. It was the pain which snapped her out of her state of fear, making her look around to see where she was, but she could not recognize it.

However… before her was one of the angel statues which she had see in the grand garden behind the opera house. It was seated, looking down with its wings unfurled behind it, slightly larger than a human man.

She understood soon why it was here… the entire right side of the face had been broken off at some point, so it had been banished up here…

Christine cocked her head slightly as she reached out her hand, gently tracing her fingers down the rough stone where it had broken away, her soft lips pursed in curiosity.

“I suppose I need an angel…” she whispered softly, continuing to gaze up at it from her prone state.

“I am so tired…” she whispered. “I do not know if I can fight any longer…”

She lowered her body before she rested her head in its lap.

“Will you be my angel… to protect me and watch over me as I sleep?” she asked the silent statue.

“Perhaps it is just my mind… I always were prone to flight of fancy. So Raoul always said… I suppose he was right…” she exhaled softly, her eyes closing. She shouldn’t sleep… and she would not.

She would simply rest her eyes…

Just for a little while…

And thus Christine fell asleep under the protective gaze of the damaged angel, unaware of the red eyes of the demon which she had fled so desperately.

  The creature looked down at her, looking so… calm. He had watched her as she reached out to touch the angels damaged face, having to bite his lip so that he did not let out an indecent sound which would have alerted her to her presence.

He stayed in the shadows for some time, just watching how her muscles all relaxed to show that she was deep in the lap of sleep.

“Angel of mine…” he whispered softly, but she did not respond.

Slowly that abhorrent creature, climbing above the statue as he looked down at her, murmuring softly as he glanced down at her.

The windows, covered by old moth eaten curtains let in low streams of light which at times fell upon that pale face and golden hair. Such was her beauty that it could not even be matched by the painted depictions which this creature had grown up under. Having watched those winged beings which adorned the roof of this glorious theater.

He had wanted nothing more than to be able to reach out his hand and…

Now she was right there. With his clawed hand practically digging into the marble of the statue he reached his human hand out to stroke down her cheek.

His heart felt about to leap out of his throat when she moved, yet to the foul creature’s relief she did not wake.

His tail were wrapped around one of the angel’s wing… keeping him steady even as much as he hated the wretched limb. Another thing which marked him as far more beast than man.

“My angel…” he whispered again leaning his head to the side.

He could take her… she was right there and how long had he not wanted her?

She was an angel trapped among the mortals… like him in a way… but where he came from below… she could only come from above.

“Christine…”

Even his beautiful voice calling her name was not able to reach the sleeping angel.

Once again the creature’s thoughts went to how her hand had reached out to touch the angel’s broken face.

Would she… would she ever be able to…

He closed his eyes.

He was not so foolish to believe that she would ever be able to look at him with anything other than distain.

After all… her very nature opposed to his in every way.

Yet… when he held her in his arms… when he had lended her his voice… had she not…? Was there not a response there. Beneath the fear…

There was lust. He had awakened such an infernal emotion within something so pure. Part of him was ashamed of that. To taint something like her.

But he could not deny the nature which would not be able to let her go. He would taint her… perhaps to have her give some of her grace to him. To run her hand over…

He felt how his own claws graced that abhorrent face which caused terror in any mortal man. Could she be different?

Could she due to her angelic nature…

He closed his eyes. He was not so sure that she could forgive the sin of his mere existence…

Fear…

It welled up within his chest as he withdrew back into the shadow, back into the darkness and away from his angel sleeping in the lap of her marble kin.

The creature felt something against his foot then and looking down he saw it.

The missing piece of the angels face. Had he simply looked like that… could she not love him then?

Could she not…?

He wrapped his hand around it as he found himself staring down at it, brushing his claw along the brow.

A demon with the face of an angel…

Perhaps then she would not run away in fear.

Clutching the beautiful visage, one he had never possessed on his own, he descended into darkness as he now had work to do before night once again banished the day from the world.

[classified-bluerose]

put me back together vi || quentin beck x reader

chapter six: cut me open, take my heart

a/n: chapter title from ‘’when you walk away’’ by 5sos. i may be taking a short break from this while i figure out where to go from here. i don’t have an exact ending in mind- should it be sad, or happy? or somewhere in between? who knows? not i.

warnings: manipulation, mentions of character death, quentin being a lil bitch, sad mcu scenes mentioned, also (almost) changes to the main plot of the mcu lol that i can’t say here w/out spoiling it. hope ya’ll enjoy.

a/n 2: major liberties taken with the timeline in ffh, the chain of events in ffh, and astral projection. (you’ll see).

—

—

(GIF is not mine)

—

stephen answers the phone on the final ring, just before it cuts to voicemail.

‘’ yes? ‘’

‘’ i need to astral project. ‘’

‘’ or hello, as people used to say, ‘’ the sorceror replies drily.

‘’ i don’t have time for pleasantries. this is urgent. how can i do it on my own? ‘’

on the other end of the phone, strange sighs. ‘’ i suppose warning you against it due to the potential dangers of the act is pointless? ‘’

‘’ yep, ‘’ you respond, popping the p.

‘’ and asking you why you need to astral project? ‘’

‘’ i don’t have time. ‘’

‘’ of course you don’t, ‘’ he mutters under his breath, before releasing a breath and turning serious. ‘’ okay. listen carefully, and follow these instructions exactly as i lay them out. ‘’

within thirty minutes, you’re set up and ready to go. taking some steadying breaths you lay in the rectangle of lit candles and close your eyes. focusing on where you want to go.

how long it takes, you can’t be sure. maybe seconds, maybe minutes, maybe hours. eventually, the familiar floating sensation overwhelms your senses and when you reopen your eyes, you look down at your prone form on the ground. weird, you think, never getting used to it no matter how many times you do it.

right. you haven’t got long. ten minutes or less, any longer and the more difficult it will be for you to return to your physical form. you focus on the image of quentin in your mind; sparkling eyes, razorblade smile, smooth charm, slick hair. green smoke and fishbowl helmet, thick armour, flowing cape.

you drift through the plane and find yourself in a nondescript building, worn down and aging badly. quentin’s voice reaches your ears, loud and irritated.

‘’ what do you mean a drone was damaged? why didn’t you go and get it? ‘’

a man, bespectacled, behind a mass of computers. ‘’ it won’t matter, mr.beck, the loss won’t be noticable. ‘’

‘’ except, ‘’ the man himself, centre stage, through gritted teeth, ‘’ that peter parker has found that drone and will figure out the truth. ‘’

a cold breeze shifts around you; no. no. no.

‘’ when i have to kill that kid, his blood will be on your hands! ‘’

quentin roars, gone is the soft tenderness you experienced only hours ago, here is pure rage. this is a tantrum in a man, a storm of pure emotion.

‘’ kill that kid. ‘’

peter.

fuck.

you close your eyes and focus on getting back to yourself. the fear and panic creates obstacles, when you return, night has fallen outside - to your horror.

‘’ shit. shit. shit! ‘’

—

how many times can i screw up? you think to yourself, as you wait for quentin in your hotel room.

how many more people can i hurt, by not realising things until it’s too late? you close your eyes as a montage of painful memories plays across the screen of your mind.

steve’s secrets, tony, broken and alone in siberia. stephen and peter, the guardians, fading away to dust in front of your eyes. natasha’s hand slipping from yours on vormir; tony with the gauntlet and the stones swallowing him up in an easy gulp.

your hands start to shake. peter. please be okay. peter has to be okay.

‘’ honey? what’s going on? ‘’

you hadn’t even heard him arriving. you don’t look up, too fearful of what you may see in his face. too fearful of what he may see in your own.

he calls your name softly, worry in his tone. angry voices bite inside you. liar. falsehoods. trickster.

his footsteps grow closer and you raise your head, never opening your eyes.

this is where your illusion shatters. this is where his begins.

—

‘’ quentin beck - formerly employed by tony stark, under the illusion technology department. ‘’

quentin’s blood runs cold.

‘’ fired in 2014, due to instability and potential to become a danger to those around him. ‘’

his jaw clenches tight enough to ache. no. no. he will not let tony stark ruin this for him.

‘’ following beck’s departure from stark industries, tony stark unveils a new therapuetic technique, named BARF - binarily augmented retroframing. ‘’

your eyes open to meet his. brutal, unforgiving, a fire of ice blazing. mouth a harsh snarl, a far cry from the usual kind expression he sees.

‘’ listen to me. i can explain. ‘’

you don’t let him.

‘’ so, hang on. let me see if i’ve got this right, ‘’ you start, ‘’ you work for tony for years. you give your blood, sweat, and tears to a project that is more like, say, your baby, than a project. that’s right, yeah? ‘’

quentin tries to steady his breathing. ‘’ please, just - ‘’

‘’ so, tony fires you. right after you’ve made a big break in your work. cites the reason that you’re not stable enough to keep working on this project. you want to weaponise it. tony doesn’t, having shut down manufacturing of weapons years before. so ... what? you spend the next ten years working on this revenge plot? ‘’

you cock your head to the side and narrow your eyes. ‘’ or do you wait until he’s dead? because you know you can’t actually pull this shit off with him around. that he would figure it out in a nanosecond. because you can just about compete with a child? ‘’

he yells your name, reaching his breaking point.

you ignore him but match the volume. ‘’ did i i get it right, mr. beck? have i missed anything out? ‘’

‘’ you don’t understand and now you won’t listen! ‘’

‘’ i have heard enough from you! ‘’ you laugh, rolling like thunder, low and dangerous. you sober up suddenly. ‘’ the only thing i want you to say? where. is. peter. ‘’

quentin falls silent. you can hear your own heartbeat as he refuses to meet your eyes.

‘’ where is he? ‘’ your tone, edged with desperation, grows aggressive, causing quentin to nearly wince away.

‘’ he had to be dealt with. ‘’ (quentin hopes he sounds more confident than he feels.)

you laugh again, no mirth, just sharp edges. ‘’ don’t. don’t you dare- quentin, where is peter? ‘’

he looks at you with sorrow weighing down his handsome features; features that you now want to punch, hard.

‘’ i’m sorry. it wasn’t supposed to go this way. ‘’

like ice water flooding your veins, everything around you freezes. you shake your head, words failing you.

‘’ you can’t have - you can’t - ‘’

quentin holds up his hands and slowly walks up to you. ‘’ i’m so sorry, ‘’ he repeats, and you’d almost believe him, if you could process anything in this moment.

peter. dead?

you let him down - again.

a ragged breath rips its way from your chest, knees buckling.

‘’ please, let me - ‘’

you rear back when quentin comes close enough to touch. ‘’ no. no. don’t. don’t you fucking - don’t you put a hand on me. you liar. liar. cheat. evil, manipulative, lying- ‘’

‘’ now, now, ‘’ quentin chides, almost hurt, ‘’ that’s not very nice. hmm? like i said - it wasn’t supposed to go like this. poor peter, he just - i tried to get him out of the way but he just. kept. interfering. ‘’ quentin chuckles, in a way that says ‘’i mean, what else was i to do? ‘’

you stare, swallowing down tears.

‘’ it’s a shame, ‘’ quentin sighs, ‘’ because i liked the kid. really, i did, ‘’ he insists, searching your face for something that will let him know you believe his words. ‘’ but, casualties happen. ‘’ he says it so matter-of-factly, you can’t even stop yourself.

he’s lying on his back and your knuckles are burning in the blink of an eye; it’s a good thing for quentin that your powers aren’t on full blast, otherwise the blow most likely would have killed him.

as it is, when he sits back up, stunned, his nose is crooked, streaming blood. he winces furiously when he touches two fingers to the swollen appendage, and then tilts his head and clicks his tongue against his teeth.

‘’ i really wish you hadn’t done that. ‘’

you open your mouth to speak - just as the room falls away beneath you. leaving you stranded in a black box. empty. vacant.

‘’ quentin? ‘’ you call out, trying to keep the anger in your voice. ‘’ quentin, don’t. ‘’ the warning comes as more of a plea and you hate that.

‘’ it’s gonna be okay, honey, ‘’ his voices comes from everywhere and no-where at the same time, disorientating as you get to your feet and stumble around the space. ‘’ don’t worry. you’ll see, soon. you’ll understand. ‘’

a low buzzing begins in the distance. your heart hammers against your chest, panic tightening your throat as breathing grows more and more difficult. ‘’ quentin, please- ‘’ you whisper, brokenly, and he almost wants to cut the scene. end the illusion. have you in his arms again, feel you kiss him, touch him, smile at him.

the buzzing grows louder and he watches you spin around and around as you try to make sense of your surroundings.

you don’t understand, not yet - he has to make you understand.

‘’ it’s gonna be okay, honey, ‘’ he promises a second time, sad and hopeless.

a swarm of wasps descend upon you, you shriek and slap them away, more appearing out of thin air. quentin tries to block out your yells of fear and pleas, ‘’ quentin, stop - stop it! please, stop it! ‘’

it’s okay, he whispers to himself, it’s gonna be okay. he draws out a syringe from a pocket on his hip, approaching you quietly.

you punch the air and twist and turn. trying to escape the flurry of buzzing wings swallowing you whole. one of them stings you, a pinch in your neck. dizziness warps your vision, loosens your limbs, throws the world up in the air.

you drift away into nothingness, peter’s face the last thing you see, in your mind.

quentin’s voice the last thing that you hear. whispering in your ear.

‘’ we’ll get through this, honey. don’t worry. i’m gonna keep you safe. ‘’

—

tag list: @djjffkd @kellzogg @bucky4cap45 @tuliptx @evee550 @stargeek727 @hrrykim @angeli-fucking-cat @glitter-rian

[stupendousshepherdloverpony]

Bucky Barnes X reader

Insurance: chapter 3

Summary; Reader has also met Pierce who has confirmed her situation of being a toy to the ‘Asset’. She has seen what Bucky looks like, but has been put into another isolated room. Awaiting his return from a mission.

Warning: mention of blood, slight violence, smut finally 😉

———————————————————

Y/N POV;

It’s been three days. Three days since Iv been locked in this room, awaiting the Asset to return. The room itself was slightly better than the one I first experienced. The bathroom was the same, but with a few extra products for the shower along with a cabinet. There wasn’t much inside, a toothbrush, tooth paste and a hair brush. Clearly they wanted me to remain in at least decent condition for the asset. Just like the last room there was a wardrobe full with grey tops, shorts and a whole manner of different lingerie types. I couldn’t even name half of them, there was so many! It was irritating to admit that some of them were pretty, but it doesn’t mean I wanted to wear them. The ones Iv had on were incredibly uncomfortable so far. Next to the wardrobe was a desk with a few old books, next to that a laundry basket and finally there was the bed. This was the biggest shock. Instead of the shitty, thin, worn down bed in the other room this one was a king size with a few pillows and different thickness blankets. This would make sleep easier, if it wasn’t for the paranoid state I was constantly in.

On the forth day I was awoken by my daily breakfast being delivered by a silent agent. They never once spoke to me, despite my tries. This usually consisted of a bottle of water, an apple and a plastic bowl of oatmeal along with a plastic spoon. I would receive another meal at what I could guess was around 5 o’clock, of course I couldn’t tell as there was no clock or window. The ‘supper’ was simply another bottle of water and a sandwich.

After eating the food I slid the bowl back through the doors latch and without a word the agent left me alone. I placed my apple on the desk to save for later in the day, and I sat down in the middle of the bed.

As what felt around mid day, I was reading one of the books HYDRA had oh so kindly provided me with when I was interrupted by the blaring of an alarm. The sudden piercing noise shocked me so much I jumped slightly with a yelp, to which I quickly covered my mouth in a poor attempt to hide my embarrassment. A thundering hoard of footsteps could be heard running back and forth through the hall. I stood up from my seated position on the bed and put my book back on the desk. Before I could even go closer to the door it swung open and in matched a single agent who I had never seen before. The man gave me a cold stare before stating “The Asset will arrive in 10 minutes. Be prepared” and with that he sauntered out the room.

Blinking in shock, my hands began to shake, ‘holy shit, what do I do?!’ Panic began to flood through my veins as I scrambled to make the ‘room’ as neat as possible, who knows what he will be thinking when entering the room. I decided to change into a clean shirt and shorts, accompanied by a baby blue one piece lingerie. If it were not for the sheer lace material one might mistake it for a swimmer, that is, one with an incredibly low back and deep V line at the front. ‘Thank god for these baggy tops’ I thought to myself. As time began to run out on my little preparations, I sat down on the edge of the bed, with my back straight and hands in my lap. After what felt like a century, the door swung open and someone was shoved through. The door slamming shut once again.

I could tell it was the Asset, aside from his unmistakable metal arm and leather tactile gear, I recognised his relatively long brown hair, if I was in any other position I’d be longing to run my fingers through it. His hair looked so soft, despite the obvious debris in it. As I trailed my eyes up his body, a pink hue overtook my cheeks as I realised he caught me staring. The most intense, steel blue eyes I’d ever seen were staring back at me. They looked dead, soulless despite their beauty. It was almost poetic how contradicting they were compared to the rest of him. His obviously sharp jaw line was covered by a black mask, which went from below his chin to the bridge of his nose. This made his stare all the more deadly, causing me to shrink back into myself, wishing I was invisible.

After an intense staring contest the Asset stalking his way into the bathroom, not sparing me another glance until he returned with a medical kid I noticed hidden in the cabinet on my second day. I yelped as he dropped the kit onto my lap as he began to take off his gear. Only then did I notice the intense bleeding coming from his right side. My eyes widened in horror while he finished his little strip show, leaving him in a white tank top and his trousers. I stood up and tried to back away before he caught my arm, muttering in a deep rough voice “Очисти мою рану” (Clean my wound). I only stared at him confused, not knowing a word of what he just said. The Asset let out a grunt before sitting down in my previous spot on the bed. “Вы русский язык знаете?” (Do you know Russian?) He muttered, followed by “конечно нет. Вы, кажется, невинны, гораздо больше, чем ГИДРА” (Of course not. You seem innocent, much more than HYDRA). He opened the medical kit and grabbed my hand, ignoring my pathetic struggles and put my hand on the equipment before pointing to his bleeding side. I muttered a small ‘Oh’ before realising he wanted me to help his injury. I took out a cleaning wipe and gauze along with a needle, not knowing if he needed stitches I gave him a questioning look which he shook his head ‘no’ to. Hoping that meant I didn’t need to use it, I tentatively lifted up his shirt and began to wipe away the blood. I could tell he was watching me, his calculating eyes made me almost squirm in my uncomfortable, hunt he’d position. After cleaning as best as I could I positioned the gauze over the wound before swiftly standing straight again.

The Asset copied me, standing up and towering above my meek frame. He brushed past me with an unreadable look, grabbing a change of clothes from closet before grabbing the medical kit and returning to the bathroom. The sound of the door closing and the barely audible sound of water indicated he was showering. I retreated back to the far side of the bed, slowly sinking down and attempting to gather my thoughts. ‘What the fuck was that all about?! He didn’t seem to bad though...maybe he doesn’t want to hurt me’. I hummed to myself I’m distraction as the doors latch opened without a word and 2 trays of food where shoved inside, ‘it must be in the evening’. I made my way over and picked both up, placing the Assets good on the desk and I slid down the wall, the furthest side from the bathroom and began to eat in silence.

After a few minutes the sound of running water stopped before the bathroom door opened and to my shock, revealed a naked Adonis of a man with only a towel around his waist. He was soaked, trails of water dripping from his hair down to his chest, oh god his chest! Perfectly ripped abs and a distinctive V line drew my attention while the water made him glisten in the dim lighting. Small scars and cuts were scattered across his chest, my eyes drifted up to the edges of his metal arm. The amount of scar tissues shocked me slightly, and a huge surge of remorse and sadness welled up inside me. The sound of a throat clearing snapped me out of my daze and my eyes snapped up to his, only to be met with a harsh glare. I flinched at the cold stare and blurted out “I wasn’t staring!” ‘Great’ I thought to myself. ‘The first words I speak to a potentially deadly, extremely sexy yet terrifying assassin was a down right, blatant lie’. The asset looked as if he wanted to give me an amused look, but instead opted to hardening his stare.

I shyly looked away from him, his eyes piercing me while I flushed red in a poor attempt to stop my staring. “Come here, маленький котенок” (little kitten). I was shocked to hear him speak English, but then again, HYDRA is a world wide organisations. They must have the best resources, the best of the best fighters, which entitles the knowledge of different languages. I must of gotten side tracked (again) because I heard a grunt of irritation. I shot up off the ground, taking shaking steps until I was a foot away from him. I refused to meet his eyes, not even when he laid a metal hand on my shoulder and applied a small amount of pressure. “On your knees, маленький котенок”. I gulped before slowly kneeling before him, big doe eyes staring up at him below my eyelashes. I knew that if I were to disobey, he could kill me instantly. I could almost see the thoughts swirling behind his eyes while he stared down at me in concentration. His metal hand moved up to cup the right side of my face, his ‘thumb’ tracing over my cheek bone, over my lips before going back up to rest behind the back of my head. I was startled at the sound of a snap before my hair feel from it’s pony tail and it drifted in front of my eyes. Before I could even lift a hand the Asset beat me to it, grabbing my hair in his flesh hand and wrapping it around his wrist, suddenly yanking it back harshly earning him a gasp as I stretched my neck up towards him.

I stared at him with wide eyes as he bent down more towards my level, his face inches away from mine. I felt my face flush pink as his eyes roamed over my face, drinking in my almost submissive position. Apparently he found what he was searching as he sharply stood back up, he let go of my hair and walked around me to the bed, taking a seat on the edge. “Crawl towards me, маленький котенок” he muttered, his voice deep and raspy yet smooth as silk. Embarrassment flooded my veins as I slowly got down on my hands and knees, shuffling towards him until I was before his legs, sitting back on my heels between his legs I was growing more and more humiliated. This man, this practical GOD was ordering me around, so simply making me submit to him. I shouldn’t be enjoying this, yet I could feel the desire growing within me.

Suddenly the towel adorning his waist feel and I let out a squeak of shock before snapping my head to the side so to not look at his manhood. A cool sensation touched my cheek before turning my face back towards him, ignoring the huge distraction in close proximity to my face I stared him in the eyes. I’m no prude or snob, simply inexperienced. But it didn’t take a lot of experience to tell that he was bigger than the average man. In both length and thickness, this man was huge. The mere sight of his manhood sent me into a frenzy.

Bucky’s POV;

I felt a smug smirk stretch across my usually stoic face. This innocent little pet was a spectacular sight. Kneeling before me, to afraid or maybe to scared to look at my crotch. I felt my cock harden at the sight of her big doe eyes staring back at me, her very prominent hardened nipples peaking through the thin layers under her shirt. I almost wanted to laugh, she knew the potion she was in, physically and metaphorically. I had been previously told by my handlers that I would receive a toy, a girl I could do whatever I wished with. I could ruin her or treasure her, they would not care. As long as I don’t kill her then they can use her a leverage to make sure I return from missions and follow orders. Perhaps it would make my life more fun, maybe I could be more human instead of a killing machine. I have no remorse for all my actions, this is my purpose in life. I am told that I’m humanities last Hope. I will do my job as instructed.

I once again grasped her hair but this time turned her head down, forcing her face closer to my hardened member. “маленький котенок, be a good girl and suck” I commanded. There was a flash of horror in her eyes before she began to struggle to escape. She twisted in my hold but I easily overpowered her with my metal hand behind her head and flesh one reaching into my discarded gear and grabbing a plastic tie. I secured her hands behind her back before delivered a swift slap to her cheek with my flesh hand. I did this as a warning, hardly any strength going into the hit but it was enough to scare her to still her movements.

“A-asset please sto-“ I harshly interrupted her by wrapping my flesh hand around her throat roaring “DO NOT call me that! You will address me as sir, and only sir do you understand?!”

Y/N POV;

I let out a whimper of pain before he squeezed my throat even harder, hissing “ I said do you understand?”

“Yes sir! I understand” I all but whispered. He once again motioned me before his rock hard cock, so without much choice I leaned further down and poked out my tongue with a tentacle lick to the tip, taking the angry red dome into my mouth and swirling my tongue around. He let out a low growl before forcing my head deeper, I gagged at the sudden intrusion before licking and sucking as much as I could. Taking him as far as I could, with the little experience I had, I used my knowledge from my friends tales that I should pay extra attention to the slit on the tip. I hollowed out my cheeks as I licked over the slit, tasting his pre-cum. It was an infuriatingly divine taste, salty yet sweet. Bitter yet tangy.

My desire began to peak more as I began to such and lick even harder. I must of been doing well as the asset, or ‘sir’ began to thrust up into my mouth. “That’s it my little pet. Swallow me deep, we will have to work on your skills, it’s obvious your new to this. Doesn’t meen your doing a bad job маленький котенок, quite the opposite. You want me to cum down your throat don’t you? Your such an obedient toy. You deserve a reward.”

His dirty talk in a distinctive Brooklyn accent made me flush and the heat spreading across my body made me moan lowly around his cock. The moan must of tipped him over the edge as his fist tightened on my head, pushing me deeper than before and his huge length made me choke. With a sinful moan his cum shot out to the back of my throat, straight down into my stomach. The delicious taste flooded my mouth and I savoured as much as possible before being lifted back off him. I gasped and tried to catch my erratic breath, cum dripping down my chin as one (metal) hand reaches behind me to snap off the wrist ties and the other drawing almost caring circles on my cheek bone.

After a moment the realisation of what just happened sank him. I sucked an assassins cock, he spoke such filthy words to me. And worse of all, I enjoyed it. “Get to bed”. A simple command sent me going to the bed and slipping under in silence as ‘sir’ stood up and went to the bathroom, I’m assuming to clean up. I turned my back to the bathroom, curling my legs into my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I heard him step back one and he lay down behind me. I flinched when I felt his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling my back flush against his front. The only thing covering his modesty is a thin pair of shorts. His legs intertwined with mine, the last thing I heard before submerging into the abyss being “sleep tight little one, I have such plans for you.”

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@darkficsyouneveraskedfor

@brazen88brat

@desdemonadeluna-blog

Im soooo sorry for the wait guys! Iv had an unexpected work load recently along with my friends wanting to meet more than usual. Not used to socialising so much! I hope this made up for it tho! 🖤

[thebiggerbear]

Writing Updates - Dec 2023

Here's what I've got currently going on amidst the holiday craziness (meaning, yes I'm working on ALL of these):

Beau Arlen x Female Reader:

The Ghosts Are Coming For You Chapter 2

Only Ever Holding Onto You Chapter 4

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #1)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Unnamed (TBD) AU short story

Unnamed (TBD) AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) AU Prompt Response (which is looking like it may turn into either a one shot or short story depending on how long this continues to get)

Unnamed (TBD) s3 AU short story

Soldier Boy x Female Reader:

Keep Me Inside Chapter 1

Unnamed (TBD) post-3x05/AU one shot that I previewed in November here

Unnamed (TBD) post-3x04/AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) post-3x08/AU story that I previewed in November here

Unnamed (TBD) s3 AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #1)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Dean Winchester x Female Reader:

Follow Me Into the Dark s15/AU short story Part 1

Unnamed (TBD) s15/AU Prompt Response

Unnamed (TBD) s15/AU one shot (that may turn into a short story)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #1)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Unnamed (TBD) s10 one shot

Sam Winchester x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) s14 ficlet (may turn into one shot)

Alec McDowell x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) short story

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Tom Hanniger x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) post-movie short story

Unnamed (TBD) post-movie story

Jenny Hoyt x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) story that I previewed in November here

Unnamed (TBD) 3x11 AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response

Anael/Sister Jo x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) one shot

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #1)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response

Rachel Gatina x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) short story

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

SDV Leah x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Multiple Pairings:

Beau Arlen x Female Reader x Jenny Hoyt:

Unnamed (TBD) story

Beau Arlen x Female Reader x Jenny Hoyt x Cassie Dewell:

You Know What You're Here For (still determining if this will be a short story or full story but one thing it will be is absolutely filthy - I'm not much of a smut writer but I used this to practice with so yeah, absolutely filthy, I feel like I don't know if I need a shower or Confession or a cigarette, preferably one of the former two)

Breakdown of the Multi-Character x Reader Prompt Response Project:

Prompt 1:

Soldier Boy - Complete

Beau Arlen - Complete

Dean Winchester - in progress

Jenny Hoyt - in progress

Tom Hanniger - in progress

Jason Teague - Complete

Anael - in progress

SDV Alex - in progress

Prompt 2:

Soldier Boy - Complete

Beau Arlen - Complete

Dean Winchester - Complete

Jenny Hoyt - Complete

Tom Hanniger - in progress

Jason Teague - Complete

Alec McDowell - Complete

CJ Braxton - in progress

Anael - in progress

Rachel Gatina - in progress

SDV Leah - in progress

I haven't posted the completed ones yet because I want to post them altogether so they can all be linked together since they're responses to the same prompt.

As far as ships go here's what I've got in the works:

Beau x Cassie:

Their Silent Thunder Matches Mine Chapter 3

What Happened Last Night Prompt Response

No Warning Prompt Response

Traditions Prompt Response

Santa Beau Prompt Response

Unnamed (TBD) post-3x13 one shot

Unnamed (TBD) Halloween/AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) one shot

Cassenny (Cassie x Jenny):

Unnamed (TBD) pre-series/s1 AU one shot

Dean x Cassie Dewell:

Unnamed (TBD) s15/post-s3/AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) later season/post-s3/AU one shot (previewed here)

Destiel (Dean x Castiel):

Unnamed (TBD) later-season ficlet

Unnamed (TBD) post-15x19 ficlet

Unnamed (TBD) post 13x01 ficlet

Unnamed (TBD) AU/post-finale ficlet

Buddie (Buck x Eddie):

One Last Time s4/AU one shot (it's been in the works for the last two years at least but I'm getting that much closer to where I want it and can finally post it; we're on final approach, folks)

Unnamed (TBD) post-4x05 one shot (that may turn into a short story)

Unnamed (TBD) post-3x18 one shot

Jonsa (Jon x Sansa):

Unnamed (TBD) AU story

Unnamed (TBD) post-s6 one shot (that may turn into a short story)

Unnamed (TBD) post-s6/pre-s7 AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) one shot

Unnamed (TBD) AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) post-finale one shot

Unnamed (TBD) post-finale one shot

Unnamed (TBD) post-finale short story

Daensa (Daenerys x Sansa):

Unnamed (TBD) modern/AU short story

Unnamed (TBD) s7 AU short story that I previewed in November here (that may turn into a story)

Unnamed (TBD) mid-finale one shot

Unnamed (TBD) s8 ficlet

Unnamed (TBD) AU Prompt Response

Bella x Jacob:

Take What You Need (possibly mid or) post-NM/AU one shot (I haven't decided which time frame fits the events better)

Unnamed (TBD) post-BD imagine

Unnamed (TBD) Thanksgiving/post-BD one shot

Other Things:

Game of Thrones story (post-finale) - contains OC's along with canon characters

The Walking Dead story (post-TWDDC season 1) - contains OC's along with canon characters

Dean Winchester x Female!OC story (post-finale)

Alec McDowell x Female!OC story (post-finale)

I'm currently outlining projects for the following:

Edythe Cullen x Bella Swan

Edythe Cullen x Jacob Black (one shot)

Rosalie Hale x Female Reader

Carlisle Cullen x Female Reader

Sebastian Sallow x Female Reader

Rip Wheeler x Female Reader

Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle (one shot)

Maribel Garlick x Female Reader (one shot)

Sam Uley x Female Reader

Leah Clearwater x Renesmee Cullen?

Sam Uley x Renesmee Cullen (one shot)

Max Goodwin x Elizabeth Wilder (one shot)

Jenny Hoyt x Dean Winchester (one shot)

Jenny Hoyt x Soldier Boy

Clarke Griffin x Lexa (prompt response to a Clexmas '23 prompt that I won't make in time to post the response to but I'm still writing it!)

Dean Winchester x Buffy Summers (one shot)

Buffy Summers x Faith Lehane

[noaoats]

Adrien Learns How to Ride a Bike

cross-posted on ao3 here

“Marinette learns that her boyfriend can’t ride a bike. She decides to fix that.”

Chapters:1/?; Words: 3,452; pure Adrienette fluff

---

Ladybug knew that her powers and identity were based on the concept of good luck, but sometimes she just felt really lucky.

She was currently on a beam near the top of the Eiffel Tower with her head in her boyfriend’s lap. The two had ended patrol early and were content to spend time together before each had to return to their homes. Ladybug’s eyes were closed as she rested. Chat was humming a song and dragging his fingers through her hair while looking down over the city.

His claws scratched gently on her scalp and her toes wiggled in bliss. “What are you humming?” she asked.

“A song my mother used to sing when I was younger. I was afraid of storms, so she’d sing to keep me calm if it began to thunder. I don’t remember the words, but the tune gets stuck in my head from time to time.”

“It’s beautiful. Maybe we can try to look the song up sometime.”

Chat separated a portion of hair and began to braid it. “I would love that.”

She willed herself to stay awake. She had despised going to bed as a kid and her mother had always played with her hair to help her fall asleep. During sleepovers she loved to play with Alya’s hair, but occasionally the other girl would braid hers and it would knock her out. The comfort of being with Chat coupled with the warm afternoon sun was making it difficult not to drift to sleep hundreds of feet above Paris.

Chat’s voice roused her as he continued talking. “We still haven’t planned our date for Saturday. My father confirmed again that I could take a few hours off so I’m free until evening. And the weather is supposed to be nice. What do you want to do? Hang out up here?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure,” she said. “We haven’t gone on many dates as ourselves, you know? We’re always transformed. We could… watch a movie. Or go swimming, since cats love the water so much.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“What about a bike ride along the Seine? We could go until we find a nice spot for a picnic. I’ll bring a blanket for us to sit on and some food. Or we could try to cook something together beforehand if you have time! My bike has a basket.”

He paused while braiding her hair. “Um… what about a picnic at the park near your house?”

“I mean, we could, I just figured it would be nice to try something new. That’s where we always eat lunch during school, plus bike rides are fun! I haven’t ridden mine much since I was a kid, and even then I really only ever used it to bike over to Nino’s house for playdates.”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s just that…” His voice sounded strained, and she opened her eyes to see if he was okay. His forehead was creased in thought and his cheeks were pink. “Um. We could just walk, instead. And not go as far since I can’t stay for too long.”

She giggled. “What, don’t tell me you can’t ride a bike.”

When he grimaced again the smile dropped from her face. She had made a major mistake. “Oh. Oh, Chat, I didn’t mean to-”

“No!” he interrupted. His face turned red as he realized that he had cut her off, and he patted her forehead awkwardly as if to apologize. “No, don’t feel bad, it’s okay. It’s just kind of embarrassing, is all. What kind of kid our age doesn’t know how to ride a bike?”

She pushed his hand aside and sat up next to him. “Lots of people! It’s nothing to be embarrassed about!”

“Yeah, I bet. Name one other person.”

“I… Alright.” Ladybug looked around dramatically as if to ensure no one could hear them way up on the tower, making Chat laugh. She leaned closer to whisper. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? I was sworn to secrecy, and I know for a fact that this person will hunt me down if they find out I told you. We made this blood pact back in CE 2. You mean a lot for me to break a promise like that.”

“Blood pact?”

She shrugged. “We were wrestling and gave each other bloody noses. We wiped the blood on our hands and then made a pinky promise. It was very serious when we were eight.”

His nose crinkled. “That’s disgusting.”

“Eh, we were kids. More importantly, do you swear to take this secret to the grave?”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes. Please. Tell me this life and death secret. What other poor soul can’t ride a bike?”

Her voice dropped even lower. “Kim. Kim can’t ride a bike.”

Chat looked stunned. He stared at her for a few moments. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. And not even Alix knows that.”

“Huh.”

“So you see!” She bumped shoulders with him. “If even the great Kim can’t ride a bike, it’s obviously not that big of a deal. Did it scare you as a kid? Or did you forget how to do it?”

“Well, firstly, it is a big deal if you literally exchanged blood over it. Seriously, that’s just wrong.” He looked down at his hands in his lap. “And secondly, no. I just never learned. My parents were going to teach me, but then my mom disappeared, and my father… The Gorilla tried once but he obviously didn’t know how to teach. He just told me to put on a helmet and go, and I didn’t know what to do with that. Then I was banned from ‘dangerous activities’ that could ruin my modeling career.”

Ladybug fell silent, processing her partner’s words. Knowing how to ride a bike wasn’t the most important skill a person could have, but it was one that had brought her a lot of joy. She also knew how much Adrien loved being able to transform and race around, and biking could bring a similar sense of freedom in his civilian form. He was also rich enough to buy a bike without any hassle if he ended up loving it.

Her mind was made up.

“Alright, that’s it. This Saturday, I’m teaching you how to ride a bike.”

-

“Marinette, I don’t know about this.”

Adrien was sitting uncomfortably on her bike, tilted to one side as he shifted around on the seat. She had switched the bike’s gears and elevated the seat to accommodate him but the whole thing felt awkward. He did like the bike’s design, though- it was a pretty light blue with small gold bells on the handles. Clinking them had been fun at first, but now that he was actually about to ride they felt like they were in the way of his hands.

“Don’t be a scaredy-cat.” Marinette handed him a matching blue helmet. “I promise to help you, and I’ll run alongside you when you go, okay? If you begin to panic just… fall on me and I’ll catch you.”

“I’m not going to crush you with a bike!”

She flipped a hand. “Whatever, I’ve been through worse. You’re the model that can’t get banged up. Alright, so put this on your head. It clicks under your chin; you want it to be tight but not uncomfortable.”

Adrien followed her directions. He had assumed that the helmet would feel strange on his head, but he was used to so many weird head pieces from modeling that he barely noticed it. His girlfriend rapped on the side of it once it was in place and he rolled his eyes. “It’s on, Mari.”

“Just checking. Okay, so getting started… I’m actually not sure what the best way to explain this is.” Her eyes darted back to the bakery across the street. “Wait! I have an idea!”

He knew that look. “Don’t leave me here on the bike!” he hissed. It was too late, though. She had already sped off in the direction of her home and left him stranded in the middle of the park. He still didn’t know what he was doing, but having her there had made him feel less awkward. He avoided the looks of other groups strolling past and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Was it weird for people to just stand around on a bike? He had never noticed, but he also had never paid attention to it. He was sure that he looked stupid.

Just as he was about to climb off and walk the bike back here was a thump to his right and he turned to see Marinette sprawled on the ground. She just jumped back up and kept going. In her hands was a giant, empty box. “We have so many of these from all the ingredients we order. I thought this might be easier.” She plopped it down next to him and sat down on it, lifting her hands to grab onto imaginary handlebars. “See?”

He snorted. “Love your bike.”

“Thanks, cardboard is in this season.” She winked. “Okay, so you move forward by pushing the pedals like this.” Her feet rotated next to the box in a circle, and he looked down at the real pedals near his feet. That seemed simple enough. “You have to do some balancing at the start, but once you get going the bike just takes off.”

“What if I start to tilt?”

“Well, you either fall or you don’t. But seriously, once you get some momentum you’ll be fine. And you steer with the handles, like this.” She demonstrated and he copied her with the real handles, twisting the front wheel against the pavement. “To stop…” She leaned back and bit her lip. “Hmm. Normally there are brakes on the handles you can squeeze to stop. It’s those small silver things there. But mine don’t really work that well ‘cause they’re so old. You’ll need to start pedalling slower and squeeze the brakes, and then I usually slide my feet on the ground to help myself slow to a stop.”

He blinked. “What do you mean, your brakes don’t work? I thought this was supposed to be safe!”

“It is! A lot of people have broken or missing parts. Riding a fully functional bike doesn’t count as a true biking experience, don’t worry.” The box was thrown in a nearby recycling bin before she stepped next to him to put her hands on his shoulders. “Alright, so at first you’re going to pedal slowly and I’m going to help you stay upright. I won’t let go, okay? We’re just going to go around the park.”

“Wait, what? Now?”

“Uh, yeah? When else, silly?”

This was happening too quickly for Adrien, but he reluctantly nodded. “You promise you won’t let go?”

“I promise, chaton.”

“Alright.” His foot hesitantly pressed down on a pedal and the bike squeaked, rolling forward a few inches. Marinette helped him balance himself so that he could lift his other foot off the ground and push the other pedal. The bike jerked forward but he stayed upright, gripping tightly. “Whoah!”

“You’ve got it! Keep going!”

He smiled at the encouragement and pressed again with his first foot, and then again with his second. Marinette was still mostly responsible for keeping him from falling, but he slowly began to circle the perimeter of the park. A part of him was anxious that others would be watching, but the thrill of the bushes and trees passing by him was too exciting to let himself get distracted. He was riding a bike! “I’m doing it!”

“You’re doing great, Adrien!”

The smooth walking path made pedalling easy, and he started to pedal faster. Marinette shuffled, then began to jog to keep up. “If you go faster I can’t hold on,” she yelped, stumbling over her feet as he went around a bend.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it! Let go!”

She laughed and finally released his shoulders. Without the resistance the bike flew forward. Adrien was filled with glee as he spun around the last curve in the park and began making his way back toward the entrance. Marinette had been right, it was easy enough once he had built up some momentum. He could hear her running behind him now, still cheering.

“Look at you! You’re riding a bike!”

“I’m riding a bike!”

He took one more lap around the park and then decided to stop before he pressed his luck too far. He shifted his hands to reach the brakes and pressed them. Like Marinette had promised, his bike began to slow but didn’t jerk him to a stop. The handles tilted wildly under his hands for a moment from the grab, but he quickly righted himself. Marinette had caught up at this point and was gesturing toward his feet. “No brakes!”

“Right.” His feet hit the ground harder than he meant for them to, but the friction of his sneakers against the pavement helped him slide to a quick stop. The bike came to rest right before a bench where a couple was sitting. They smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up. He returned it.

“Adrien!” There was a tight squeeze against his abdomen and he looked down to see Marinette giving him a strong hug. He smiled and awkwardly patted her arms while extracting himself from the bike. It loudly collapsed to the ground, but neither of them cared. “That was so awesome! How did it feel?”

“It was… really nice! I definitely need to practice more before going out on the roads or anything, but I’m glad you convinced me to try this. You were an excellent teacher. Can we try again some other time?”

“Absolutely! Now are you ready for our picnic?” She flashed him a mischievous look. “I want to introduce you to one more thing.”

-

Marinette whooped as they flew down the path lining the Seine. Adrien’s grip was almost painful on her shoulders, but she could hear him laughing behind her as well. They had dug up her mother’s old helmet to double-up on the bike. Marinette was steering and Adrien was holding on behind her with his feet on the back wheel hub. He had been anxious at first, but now they were both dizzy and elated as the river sped past them.

“Up there! Up there!” Adrien yelled in her ear. His fingers were still tight on her shirt, and she assumed that he didn’t feel sturdy enough to lift a hand and point. She scanned the area ahead and found a small bench and grassy area right next to the river bank on their right.

“I see it!”

The bike zoomed over and she began to squeeze on the brakes as they rolled down a slight hill. Adrien held her closer as the momentum shifted but was silent as she slammed her shoes down to break their slide. The bike tilted dangerous to the right as they turned, but it gradually rolled to a stop in the grass. Adrien slumped over her shoulder. “Marinette, oh my god. That was so much fun. Why don’t we do that all the time?”

She booped his nose. “Because of a certain mothman we hate. But we can do it more often! I didn’t know if you would like it or not, and honestly I had forgotten I had a bike. I should really start riding it to school again.” Their food had somehow remained in the basket, and she passed the bag to Adrien as he hopped off the back of the bike. “It would keep me from having to sprint after sleeping in.”

“You know, you could just not sleep in.”

“Yeah, but what’s the fun in that?”

They spread the blanket out on the grass and set up their lunches- plain baguettes, small salads, and an orange to split. Plagg and Tikki were content to stay in the bike basket and hang out, and Marinette didn’t disturb them. She enjoyed being alone with Adrien. Well, as alone as they could be with two tiny gods always keeping them company.

Adrien had already scarfed down half of his lunch, moaning in delight. “I don’t understand,” he grumbled, mouth full of food. “Why would you ever leave your place to get food? You could eat this great all the time. I’d never stop eating.”

Crumbs trickled down his shirt and she reached over to shake the fabric and knock them off. “You have a chef. And you’re going to choke if you keep eating like that.”

“At least I’d die doing what I love. Eating food made by the Dupain-Cheng’s.”

She swatted playfully at him before digging into her own lunch. They mostly ate in silence, taking in the moment. The sky was beautiful and the park they had found was surprisingly clear of tourists. They were sitting near a bush of flowers she found absolutely lovely, and they had sat as close to the river as possible. It would have been nicer without the gates blocking them from falling in, but she still appreciated being near it. Adrien seemed to catch her gaze. “Wonder if it’ll ever be clean enough to swim in?”

That made her laugh. “I’d say when pigs fly, but that might actually happen with some of the weird akumas Papillon has made. Still, it’s pretty. If it wouldn’t definitely give me E. coli, I’d jump in.”

“I’ve never gone swimming anywhere that wasn’t a pool,” Adrien admitted. “Not saying that I’d swim in the Seine- that’s nasty. But it would be cool to find a lake or something and get in. Nino’s family goes rafting a lot at Cergy-Pontoise. It sounds fun.”

Marinette felt a pang of sympathy in her chest. “You didn’t get to do much fun stuff as a kid, huh? Or now.”

“I mean, I hung out with Chloe some. We would go shopping together or goof off during big social events. That was fun.”

“Yeah, but that’s not…” She sat up straight, grabbing his hands. “Have you ever used roller blades? Tried using a pogo-stick? Jump roped? Climbed something you weren’t supposed to?” He frowned and wiggled his ring finger. “Obviously not as Chat Noir. Like I used to try and climb this giant tree in the park across from my house. I wasn’t supposed to but I did it anyway, and I ended up falling and breaking my arm. Anything like that?”

He paused to think. “Hmm. I was allowed to go ice skating some, but not much. And I did fencing. That’s about it.”

“That’s it, then.”

“What is?”

She stood up and brushed fake dust off her pants for the dramatic flair. Her hands slammed on her hips and she puffed out her chest. “I have decided what our next few dates will be. You and I will be giving Adrien Agreste a childhood. And we’ll start with rollerblading.”

“Really?” Adrien didn’t get up, but he looked overjoyed. She really did get lucky. He was so cute. “Can we really?”

“Really really. Hold on, I have some paper in my purse.” The notepad was resting next to the two kwamis in the bike basket, and she waved at them before reaching in to grab it. “Let’s come up with a list of things you’ve always wanted to do but never got the chance to. We can go ahead and write down riding a bike, and put a check next to it.” She sat down next to him and started scribbling in her lap. “What else would you like to do?”

“I love you.”

“Okay, I love y-” She stopped writing, realizing what he had said. Her cheeks were probably burning. It didn’t matter how long they dated, he always took her breath away when he said that. And he was giving her such a soft look, how could she not turn into a romantic puddle in front of him? She smiled. “I love you, too. What was that for?”

Adrien scooted closer. “Nothing. I just love you, and I like to say it.” The peck on her cheek was unexpected and she felt her face grow hotter. “Plus you’ve been showing off all day; it’s fun to make you blush.”

“I’m not-!” He was already laughing at her. “Okay, hot-shot. For real, we need to make this list.” She pushed forward onto her stomach so that she could write on the ground, and she used her legs to shove him over. “What do you want to add?”

He wriggled over next to her and leaned closer to see what she was writing. “Alright, alright. I was thinking we could add…”

[andromedablacc]

Electric Storms

Of all the things that could happen after being kid-napped by his brother, Sirius didn't think he'd ever be standing with a locket in his hand that supposedly contained a piece of Voldemort's soul and James telling him he was in love with him, but apparently, that's how life was going to go.

- - - - -

Chapter 1 | AO3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 6

- - - - -

Sirius sat at what was supposed to be his dining table that had long since become overrun with paper work from the Order, clothes, both fresh and otherwise, and empty beer bottles, and peered at the map Dumbledore had given him several days previously. It was impressive in its size and detail, even noting the thickness of the walls, but was completely muggle. That, Dumbledore had said, was Sirius’s task to fix. He hadn’t mentioned his previous experience of making magical maps, yet Sirius was certain he knew of it from the sparkle in his piercing blue eyes. Sirius’s hadn’t done it alone then though, and he wasn’t so sure he could do it alone now. He knew the charms to track the Death Eaters of course, and more to boot now he was several years older but gathering that many magical signatures across so many miles would be near impossible for one man.

Lightning flashed, miles away, and lit up the otherwise dull room in white-purple light that made Sirius’s blood freeze in his veins. Several seconds later, thunder rumbled and Sirius found himself hugging his arms in close to his chest, his concentration shot and he knew he wouldn’t return to the map that night. Astraphobia, the muggles called it, his bone chilling fear of thunder storms. Normally he could deal with it, a few beers settled in his stomach and his best friend beside him, a constant distraction from everything out with his four walls. James wasn’t here now, and Sirius was feeling it.

The living-kitchen-diner lit up again with the electrical light, the thunder almost immediately after, drowning out the sound of a voice yelling and banging on the front door. Sirius stood, guessing that without James his best bet of getting through the storm would be to curl up in bed and try to ignore it, and just as he was about to enter his bedroom, he heard the voice cry out again.

“Come on Pads, open the door!” James’s voice flooded him with such relief that he didn’t even notice how wet it sounded, as if the other man had been crying and was trying to stave off more tears even then. Sirius rushed to the door, and threw it open as James began to knock again. His dark brown skin was soaked, his hair so wet even the bit that perpetually stood up at the back of his head was flattened against his skull. For a second James looked at Sirius with the most broken expression he’d ever seen on his face, worse than when his parents had died and Sirius felt anger surge white-hot within him at whoever had made look like that. He watched as his face shifted suddenly as the other man looked at him and his hazel eyes filled with guilt.

“Oh shit Si, I’m sorry.”

Déjà vu swept over Sirius as James dropped the case and wrapped Sirius in his arms, like he had on the night Sirius had shown up at the Potters, scarred and scared, a terrified grin twisting his face and his own case in hand. He breathed in the scent of his best friend, flying leathers and that crackling smell of frequent magic use, like a match being lit or the calm after a storm, and he felt his heart slow a little, a little less like a hummingbird. He would have stood there for hours, days, safe in James’s arms, if it weren’t for the silent sobs that began to shake James’s shoulders, and suddenly Sirius remembered the case.

“What happened, Prongs?” he asked gently into James’s hair, shifting from taking his strength from James to giving it as much as he could. James’s arms drew him closer still and he buried his face into the space where Sirius’s neck met his shoulder.

“Lily.”

Fear, ten times greater than his terror of lightning, gripped Sirius, and he put his shaking hand to James’s cheek, pushing him back and tipping it slightly so he could look at his best friend’s face. His eyes were red rimmed and raw, he’d clearly been crying for some time.

“What’s happened to Lily?” He tried to keep his voice smooth and calm even as he felt his dread rise again as James shook his head and pushed back to be close to him.

“She left me.”

Sirius didn’t think he would ever be relieved to find James heartbroken, yet here he was, his rapid breathing slowly to something close to normal knowing Lily was safe. He wrapped his arms closer around James and kicked the door shut, whispering soothing words into James’s hair until he calmed his crying and simply breathed him in.

- - - - -

Living with James was as easy as it ever was, and within days it was like he’d never left, the year he’d spent with Lily in their little house in the countryside no more than a bad dream lingering in the back of Sirius’s mind. Sirius didn’t hear from Lily or Remus, or anyone he cared about, and in the current climate, no news was always good news, and so Sirius basked in having his best friend with him again until the second Monday of October rolled around, and it was time for the monthly Order meeting.

James flicked his wand lazily and their dinner dishes floated over to the tiny sink, beginning to wash themselves. Sirius had expected him to have tried to run to Lily at least five times by now, begging her to take him back, but after the first day of grieving he seemed to settle into a sort of contentedness. Sirius suspected he was in denial, but every time he tried to bring up the subject James changed the conversation to something else entirely and eventually he gave up trying. James would tell him when he was ready, and no sooner.

Sirius stood and Summoned his favourite leather jacket along with James’s woollen winter cloak and slipped his on, handing James’s to him. His best friend stayed sitting and winced.

“I’m, eh, not coming tonight,” he said, sounding apologetic. He took the cloak all the same and played with the beginnings of a fray at one sleeve. Sirius got the feeling he was just avoiding looking at him. “Just can’t face her yet, y’know? I haven’t spoken to her since she… Since I left.”

Sirius knew that, of course he did, he just hadn’t expected it to stop James.

“Dumbledore wants me to just continue with what I’m doing, and I’ve been helping you with the map, and there’s nothing new going on so.” Sirius waited to see if James would continue, but he seemed to be finished.

“Alright,” he said and pulled on his boots. “I’ll see you after anyway.”

James smiled at him, finally looking in his eyes, and Sirius could see the relief there plain as day. He suspected James wasn’t so easy to read to everybody, but Sirius never had an issue with it and he knew whatever had happened with him and Lily, James hadn’t really accepted it yet.

He apparated straight out of the flat and into the house the Prewett twins owned between them. It was small but cosy, and every time they had an order meeting there, completely packed with wizards and witches of all backgrounds, many in robes, but some in muggle clothes, both in and out of style. One of the few in muggle clothes was Remus, sitting alone across the room in an overlarge armchair Sirius knew he could force himself into alongside him.

Remus did not look impressed as he did just that, huffing as Sirius squashed him. Sirius loved Remus, he did, but since the war had taken over their lives, they’d grown further and further apart, he didn’t think they’d been this close in years. Sirius couldn’t remember the last time they’d spent time together outside of Order meetings or James and Lily’s occasional parties to desperately try and keep the group together, it’d been months since any of them had seen Peter at all. They still spent every full moon together, but barely spent minutes together without being in their beastly forms. Even now, Remus looked uncomfortable being so close to him and it wasn’t just that they were squashed together.

For a moment, there was silent between them, more awkward than even after the Incident in their fifth year.

“How’s James doing?”

Sirius hadn’t expected Remus to know about James and Lily breaking up, though really he should have. Remus and Sirius didn’t talk much anymore, but it wasn’t surprising that James was still in frequent contact with him, he’d always been the glue that kept their group together, had been less guarded with his affections. It’d made Sirius infinitely jealous as a teenager, and though he could look back at his possessiveness of James now and laugh, there was a small part of him that still coveted the entirety of James’s love.

“He’s doing okay. In denial, I guess, he won’t tell me what went wrong.”

Remus looked at him pointedly for a moment, like he though Sirius was lying, before he shrugged his shoulder that wasn’t crushed against Sirius’s.

“He’ll tell you when he’s ready. Or you’ll figure it out before then.”

“What was it then? Since apparently you already know,” Sirius said, sharper than he’d expected. It hurt him that James would tell Remus what was going on with him but not Sirius, who he spent all his time with, who was his best friend, a tiny betrayal.

“He didn’t tell me, you know, I worked it out. No need to get that look on your face.” Sirius tried to relax his face into something softer, more neutral. He’d forgotten that Remus could read him almost as easily as James could. “And I won’t tell you what it was, before you ask. It’s James’s business to tell, not mine.”

There was no point in arguing with Remus once he’d made up his mind, so Sirius stayed silent and watched as more people filed into the room. Everyone looked tired, exhausted in fact, like they hadn’t gotten enough sleep in days, months maybe. Fabian himself was half asleep on one of the couches nearest the fire, the orange and red light flickering across his face and making the dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced.

He might have gone over to speak to him if Lily hadn’t walked into the room that very second, her auburn hair up in a high pony tail that he could see pulled too tightly at her temples, and Sirius felt a familiar guilt settle in him that he hadn’t even written to her since James moved back home, she looked worse even than everyone else, heartbreak plain still in the edges of her mouth. He didn’t bother telling Remus where he was going as he stood, pushing free of the confines of the armchair and making his way across the room.

“Lily, I’m sorry.”

She held a hand up to stop him before he continued, a small, sad smile pulling at her lips.

“It’s fine Sirius, I get it,” she said, and moved to wrap her arms around his waist when he hugged her. “You and James have to look after each other first.”

She probably meant it to comfort him, instead the guilt grew. He and James had promised tucked up in bed together when they were sixteen and Sirius had left his family that they would always look after each other, but that didn’t mean it was okay for him to ignore his other friends who were hurting too.

“I should have at least written to you,” he admitted, and she didn’t correct him on that one.

“Has he told you why, yet?”

Before Sirius could answer, Dumbledore stepped into the room, all attention immediately on him. Lily and Sirius drew away from each other as the old wizard looked around the room, meeting each Order member in the eye.

“Thank you, each and every one of you, for risking your lives coming here tonight. I wish I didn’t need to ask it of you. However, as I’m sure you’re all eager to get home again, to be back with your loved ones, I will keep things brief.

“Voldemort is relentless in his pursuit of extra warriors. He is noted to have been trying to sway the giants to his side recently and is known to have swathes of warewolves already joining him, including the notorious Fenrir Greyback, of whom I’m sure many of you will have already heard.”

Sirius shoved his hands into his jeans pockets so no one would see them shake with rage at the very mention of Greyback’s name. He glanced over at Remus, he looked the picture of righteousness, how he managed to keep so calm at the knowledge that the monster who’d ruined his whole life was now with Voldemort, he had no idea, but he admired him for it. If it had been Sirius or James, both of them would have been ready to kill him there and then.

“Therefore, I request that everyone be extra vigilant, both in their missions and their everyday lives. We cannot let Voldemort and his Death Eaters gain more ground in this war.”

With that final message, Dumbledore seemed to shrink back into the crowd of people, human instead of godly once again. Several more people spoke to the Order at large, Moody and Alice Longbottom both having information they thought important be shared. Full plans were never laid out to everybody at once so that no one knew absolutely everything, there were even things Sirius suspected Dumbledore himself didn’t know.

No one stayed long to chat, as was becoming more and more common as the severity as the situation grew more and more apparent. A myriad of people were dying, muggle borns were starting to be attacked in broad daylight, and as the Death Eaters grew more numerous, even half-bloods and so called blood traitors were starting to be targeted. Sirius hugged Lily tightly and made to go, wanting to speak to Remus quickly before he did, but he watched from afar as McGonagall touched his friends arm and drew him aside, speaking in hushed tones. Remus nodded to whatever she was saying, his brow furrowing, and apparated away before Sirius had so much as a chance to call his name.

It could wait, Sirius decided, and went back home to tell James the more important updates.

- - - - -

Marlene McKinnon was funny and clever and pretty in a hard sort of way, all short blonde hair and strong jaw, and Sirius had liked her even before James had started seeing Lily, and so he didn’t complain to James too much when he received a coded message from Moody telling him to meet her at six o’clock sharp the following morning on a muggle street near to where he’d grown up. James had been sent on a mission of his own that night anyway and was safe and sound asleep in his bed when Sirius left the flat.

She sat on a bench overlooking the Thames, her black cloak wrapped around her and two cups in her hands, breathing onto one of them. Sirius sat by her side, taking the second cup and sipping at the tea inside it without saying a word to her, content to sit in companionably silence until she was ready to tell him what they were there for.

“Is it strange, being back?” she asked without looking at him. She sounded as exhausted as he felt, he could see the dark circles under her eyes when he turned to look at her that probably matched his own. In truth, being anywhere in muggle London never felt too close to home. His parents would never have set foot among the muggles, would certainly never have let Sirius speak to them and so he associated it mainly with his later teenhood, running amok with James and his motorbike. Instead of telling her all this, he asked a question of his own.

“How’s Dorcas?” At that, she turned to face him, a cheeky little smile pulling at her mouth. Sirius reckoned, if either had them had just been a little less gay, they might have worked together, but he was glad in too many ways to count that they were. Even in the height of this war, Dorcas made Marlene so happy.

“She’s great,” she replied brightly, and then seemed to think better of her enthusiasm. “Well, as well can be expected given the circumstances, anyway.”

Sirius had been about to reply that it was good that Dorcas was doing so well, when something dark moved across the white houses on the other side of the river, not quite human in shape, and he stood.

“Marlene, what are we actually here for?”

Marlene stood with him, her eyes catching onto the creature as Sirius stared at it. “There’s muggles in that house over there. Rich ones, with a witch daughter. She works at the Prophet, has been speaking out against You-Know-Who there. Dumbledore thought the Death Eaters might target them for it.”

It certainly looked like it. With a quick glance at each other, and then at the surrounding areas to check to muggles were looking at them, Sirius reached out and took Marlene’s hand. He apparated them to just behind the suspicious looking creature. This close, it was obvious it was a witch or wizard with some kind of illusion cloak on them to distort their figure, still stark black against the bright white buildings in the grey morning light. The person didn’t turn around, but they’d clearly noticed them and quickly shot a stunning spell over their shoulder towards Marlene. It occurred to Sirius immediately that it was an unusual spell to use in a real fight, but he didn’t have time to ruminate on it as the spell careened towards him. They both shielded quickly, and Sirius was blasting out a binding spell before the stunning spell had even dissipated fully against Marlene’s shield where it’d hit near her stomach. The person shifted just as Sirius’s retaliating spell hit, missing its mark and glancing off their shoulder.

Before they even had a chance to raise their wand, Sirius sent off another spell, this time meant to wound. He kept running, almost making pace with the spell before it rebounded against the person and came flying back towards him. He flung himself to the ground, motioning his hand for Marlene to do the same, and felt his chin hit the ground. Blood filled his mouth as he bit his tongue, the metallic taste sharp against his tongue. Sirius hated street fighting.

The fight had barely begun and already Sirius was panting hard, his breath coming out in sharp bursts. Beside him Marlene was in a similar state, both of them pushing up hard from the ground and scrabbling to get to their feet. The person was well ahead of them now, but Marlene had always been good at long distance spells, sending one their way. This time it hit fully and the person clattered to the ground. Sirius was beside them in an instant, turning them over to see an ornate Death Eater mask staring up him, but up close even with the mask and the illusion cloaking spell, he knew exactly who it was.

Regulus and Sirius were barely a year apart, born one after the other much to the rage of their Aunt Druella, who she had only been able to produce girls, and were almost identical, barring where Sirius’s eyes were grey and Regulus’s were blue. As they’d grown older, Sirius had grown taller, broader, elegantly slender as James always said, rather than Regulus’s undeniable scrawniness.

Sirius took one look at the tense, narrow set of the shoulders, the familiar blue eyes gazing triumphantly out of the mask and knew his brother had laid a trap for him. Regulus reached up and grabbed his leather jacket, and with a sickening tug below his naval, he was apparating them away.

[javistg]

Strawberry Swing - The End

This is it! The last chapter of Strawberry Swing, the fic I sent to this year’s @mores2sl collection.

I want to thank everyone who’s followed, liked and commented on this story. Your kind words and support mean the world to me. 

For those of you who donated in August, thank you for being a part of MoreS2SL. Your contributions make change possible. I’ve added a couple of scenes here that didn’t exist in the original version. Hope you like the changes. 

@everlarkingjoshifer. Thanks for all the love, support, and trust; and thank you for this beautiful banner. 

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5. AO3 and FF.net.

“Want to come with me tomorrow?” Gale asked on Saturday as they watched the transmission.

Katniss and Peeta were stuck in their cave sharing a picnic basket their sponsors had sent. A thundering storm raged through the arena keeping the other tributes in place.

Madge nodded. “Same time?”

“Yeah.”

XXXXX

Madge hugged her legs to her chest and turned towards the sky. The pale rays of the sun’s first light kissed her cheeks, flooding her spirit with warmth.

Next to her, Gale stretched his long legs, settling himself comfortably on the flat rock ledge where he’d taken her on their first visit to the woods.

A small smile turned up his lips as he gazed at the horizon.

She still didn’t know what had made him invite her to the woods on that warm summer night or why he had decided to ask her again, but whatever it was, she was grateful for it.

Madge had spent years wanting to go under the fence. She had always been curious about the world which lay so close to her and yet was so out of reach.

She had considered asking Katniss if she could come along more than once, but she knew her friend didn’t visit the woods for fun. Katniss needed to hunt and gather to feed her family, she didn’t have time to take Madge out on a tour.

Come to think of it, neither did Gale. Between his job at the mine, and his missing partner he was probably busier than he’d ever been. Still, the idea had come from him so, who was she to argue?

“I could come out here every day,” she sighed.

“Yeah, me too. I think this is the only place where I can really breathe.”

As if to prove his point, Gale took a deep breath. Madge watched the slow rise and fall of his chest and mimicked his motions; filling her lungs with the smell of damp earth and ripe berries that clung to the air.

A comfortable silence settled over them. Madge relaxed onto the rock and looked around as she tried to take it all in; the murmur of the distant stream, the reflection of the sun on the leaves, the rustling of birds’ wings.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” she asked.

Gale cocked his head. “Plan?”

“Yeah. Are you going to hunt, gather, fish…” she trailed off uncertainly.

“I should check my snares,” he said, pointing somewhere behind him. “I haven’t been out here all week, they’re probably full. Wanna come with?”

Madge’s eyes widened, but her face remained neutral. “Sure, lead the way.”

The next few hours went by quickly as they walked along narrow paths. Gale’s silent footsteps left a trail of prints Madge used as she followed.

Whenever they stopped, Madge held her breath and watched, mesmerized. For someone so rough and surly, Gale was surprisingly gentle when it came to the wires and hooks he used in his snares. The delicate dance of his long fingers as he released his pray, while efficiently resetting his traps, captivated her.

They were already walking back to the district with a full hunting bag and the relentless summer sun warming their backs when she asked, “What’s it like down there?”

Gale stopped short and turned around. His eyes were dark as lead. “You’ve taken the tour. Haven’t you?”

“Of course, I have,” she answered, still surprised at herself for bringing the subject up. “But I’m not stupid enough to believe that what they show us on those visits is the actual truth.”

Gale nodded. His eyes found hers, they were sad and pained. Madge found herself wishing she could wipe all his worries away.

With a shuddering breath, Gale explained, “It’s dark and damp. Suffocating. It’s the worst place in the world.”

Swallowing back her tears, Madge bobbed her head. She wanted to hold out her hand, stroke his cheek, comfort him in any way. But she knew he was proud. He was willing to open up to her, but that didn’t mean he was ready to accept her comfort.

Straightening up, Gale cocked his head towards the fence. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Gale stepped to the side and motioned for her to catch up to him.

They walked in silence for a while, side by side as they made their way back to the district.

They were about to go under the fence when Madge spoke again.  “Thanks for bringing me out here.”

Gale smiled, it was warm and bright, the joyful kind of smile she’d only seen him use when he was around Posy.  

“Anytime, Madge,” he said, using her name for the very first time.

XXXXX

The loud howls of angry mutts filled the town square.

Gale watched with baited breath as Katniss and her district partner ran madly through the woods.

Next to him, Prim found comfort in her mother’s arms while a stoic Madge wrapped her arms around herself to keep the biting cold from seeping into her bones as she followed the transmission.

The dark night stretched on as Katniss, Peeta, and everyone else in Panem waited for Cato to die.

Quietly, almost instinctively, Gale leaned his weight towards Madge’s side, gently resting his arm against her shoulder. Her body stiffened with surprise, but she didn’t pull away. Relaxing into his touch, she accepted his warmth and comfort instead.

“You ok?” he whispered into her ear as Cato’s pitiful whimpers rang through the loudspeakers.

Keeping her eyes on the screen, Madge shook her head. “I’ll be ok when they’re back home,” she admitted.

After what felt like an eternity, Katniss decided to take the arrow from Peeta’s leg and use it to put their last rival out of his misery.

Gale watched, his body as tense as the string on Katniss’s bow, while his hunting partner aimed straight at Cato’s heart.

The parting words he’d told her in the justice building rang in Gale’s ears. You know how to kill.

He honestly hadn’t believed that killing a few kids to stay alive would be any different from killing the animals in the woods. But now, watching the anguish reflected in Katniss’s eyes as she followed her arrow’s trajectory, he knew he’d been wrong.

Cato died.

A ripple of nervous energy ran through the town square as Panem waited for the Game to end.

Katniss and Peeta abandoned the cornucopia and reached the stream.

As seconds stretched into minutes, Madge’s words bounced against the walls of Gale’s skull filling him with dread. Wait until they revert the rules and tell them that only one of them can survive.

As if hearing his thoughts, Madge slid her hand into Gale’s and gave it a light squeeze. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her forehead, wrinkled in worry as she waited for the Game makers to make their next move. He squeezed back.

Declare them victors, he pleaded silently.

Claudius Templesmith’s voice came crackling through the loudspeakers, “The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rulebook has disclosed that only one victor may be allowed.”

The entire crowd gasped.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark argued on the screen, neither of them willing to let the other one die.

With mounting dread, Gale tightened his hold on Madge’s hand; impatiently waiting for the tributes to make up their minds. He didn’t dare look in Prim’s direction. He was much too afraid of the sorrow in her eyes.

Finally, Katniss pulled out a handful of poisonous berries and dropped it on Peeta’s waiting hand.

A cold chill ran along Gale’s back as he saw his hunting partner popping the dark fruit into her mouth. He could see her eyes closing as she got ready to say her last goodbye.

Claudius Templesmith’s frantic voice broke through the sound of blaring trumpets, “Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen, and Peeta Mellark. I give you –the tributes of District 12!”

The crowd gathered around the town square erupted in cheers.

Without even thinking, Gale pulled on Madge’s hand, bringing her into his embrace. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and buried his face in her hair.

She laughed, trembling like a leaf in his arms. “They made it!” she whispered excitedly into his chest. “They’re coming home!”

Gale nodded. His hunting partner was safe, and she would soon be back where she belonged.

Smiling, he pulled back just enough to look into Madge’s eyes. The happiness he saw reflected in them matched his own, but there was an edge of uncertainty there which made him pause.

They had spent weeks worrying about Katniss, wishing for her safety, hoping she’d come back. Well, she was finally on her way. She was a victor now, and she wasn’t coming alone.

As he looked into Madge’s deep blue eyes, Gale realized he wasn’t alone either. Somehow, Madge had ended up in his arms. She had wiggled her way into his mind and his heart, and he wasn’t willing to let her go.

Slowly, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her temple. “They’re coming home,” he repeated with a smile.

The world around him continued its celebration. Gale closed his eyes for an instant, allowing the happiness of the moment to run through his veins.

Something momentous had just happened, to his country, to his life.

It didn’t matter that the arena was miles away, change was in the air. He couldn’t wait to see what it brought.

[a-mad-scientist-approaches]

Multiverse is a Curse Word (2)

Again, no idea how to describe this AU, other than as some sort of Frankenstein-y mash of @the-subpar-ghost‘s Adrift AU, and @hntrgurl13‘s Dimension Jumper AU and Drifting Dimensions AU. Adeline Marks is also the latter’s lovely OC. Although the Addiford ship has not yet sailed, I’m still going to credit it to @scipunk63. 

@deadpool-demon-diva and @thejesterlyfictionista I refuse to NOT inform you when I post an update. 

AO3  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11

Chapter 2: Hand Signals to Befuddle Your Enemies

The scenery whipped past silently, and sunlight streamed through the transparent walls of what Mabel had dubbed The Trainbulance. It had docked over the market place shortly after Ford had passed out. Apparently, fights were fairly common in that place, and medical help was permanently stationed nearby to pick up the pieces.

Her uncle jolted awake right next to her, shooting from horizontal to sitting upright almost instantly. His right hand automatically reached for the gun that Mabel had, with wise forethought, temporarily removed from its holster.

“Whoa! Grunkle Ford! It’s okay!”

Eyes wide and breathing hard through his nose, Ford focused on her after a moment of taking in his surroundings.

“Are you alright?”

“Me?” Mabel laughed worriedly. “What about you?”

“I’m-” Ford looked down at the recovery bed he was lying in, and then at his newly re-located shoulder. “Fine, actually.” He sounded surprised. “Where are we?”

Grinning so wide she thought every one of her braces must be showing, Mabel joyously exclaimed, “The Trainbulance! It can fly! And we don’t even have to pay for it or anything, Addi’s settled it all with the driver. I think she’s magic,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Addi?” Ford inquired.

“Right here.” Adeline said, stepping into the compartment. “Adeline Marks, your saving grace.” She introduced herself with a playful smile.

⃝

Adeline wore tattered clothes in brown and grey, and her wrists and hands were wrapped like a boxer’s. Ford knew immediately that he should not get on the wrong side of the sword strapped to her back; he had seen how fast it could be drawn. Her choppy blonde hair had a few grey streaks, and her right cheekbone wielded a couple of horizontal scars. Ford estimated that she was perhaps a few years younger than himself and had seen at least as much action, if not more, judging by the confident way she held herself – like she knew she was more than a match for anyone she crossed.

“I think she can hypnotise people with sign language, too,” Mabel supplied. Ford was suddenly aware that he had done nothing but stare at Adeline since she had walked into the room, and cleared his throat.

“Thank you for your help,” he said sincerely.

“Anytime,” she replied easily, “but Mabel’s the real hero here. She came and got me.” Adeline directed another warm smile towards his niece.

Mabel hesitated. Frowning slightly, she eventually took a breath and said to Ford again, “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have cheated.”

Ford swung his legs off the recovery bed and took her hands, making sure to look into her eyes. “Don’t blame yourself.” He said firmly. “Nobody’s hurt, that’s the important thing-”

“But you were hurt-”

“And you saved me,”

Mabel sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, still upset.

“Mabel, you and Stanford did not deserve to be attacked over a dice game, regardless of whether you cheated. If anyone’s to blame, it’s that jerk of a gambler. I mean, who goes after a kid like that?” Adeline put in. “Next time, only cheat if the other guy isn’t going to notice.” She winked.

Mabel nodded slowly, mollified.

“Where are heading?” Ford wondered.

“This, um, trainbulance is going to drop us off at a place I know, run by some … colleagues, I guess, of mine. At the very least it’s a place to shelter for the night.” Adeline prompted, seeing his obvious reluctance.

“Adeline, it’s not that I don’t appreciate all that you’ve done,” he began, “I would just prefer not to take any more risks than absolutely necessary.”

“It wouldn’t be a risk.” Adeline said quickly and eagerly. “I mean, not by our standards, right?”

Ford ran a hand through his hair, glancing at Mabel, who erupted into a coughing fit.

“I’m good,” she choked out. He really hoped she had not caught something from that alley. He should have tried harder to find a more sanitary, not to mention safer, sleeping place. It was hard to remember how much more careful he had to be now, especially with a child as uncomplaining and resilient as Mabel. That being said, no matter how guilty he felt it was impossible to find suitable living conditions all the time.

It would be best to take it where he could get it then.

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding to Adeline.

⃝

Trying hard to contain her delight and not freak out the others, Addi was suddenly reminded of something.

“Oh! A thing you may find useful …” She rotated her wrist around and flicked her fingers out.

“I think she’s trying to hypnotise us,” Mabel stage whispered, looking strangely keen.

“No, this is a hand signal.” Addi laughed. “It, well, it sort of means ‘I don’t want to hurt you, I’m on your side.’” She rolled her eyes at Stanford’s raised eyebrow. “At the very least it’ll confuse your enemies into stopping attacking, y’know, if you decide to just stand there and wave at them. But they’ll probably recognise it. It works in many of the dimensions I’ve been to.”

“You said ‘side’ as in side of a war?” Stanford picked up, perceptive as ever.

“No. Not yet anyway,”

“So, a resistance effort? Against what? Are you a part of this?”

Addi shifted uncomfortably. She’d want Wesley around to explain this. “I help out where I’m needed. I’m not officially a part of anything. If they need assistance they call me in, like with-”

“Recruiting?” Ford’s voice was suddenly as hard as steel.

“No, well yes, but not you, not Mabel. I don’t involve kids.” Addi became aware that the conversation had made a sharp turn off road.

“You don’t. However, in my experience resistances are often just as brutal and cruel as the institutions they overthrow,”

“I’m not trying to get either of you involved.” Addi raised her hands in a placating gesture. “I just think we could help you out.”

“We don’t need help,” Stanford said coldly.

Mabel doubled over coughing again. As Addi steadied her with a hand, the medical transport shuttle, which had been slowing imperceptibly, rocked to a halt. The cease in motion caused all three of them to sway, and Addi distinctly heard Stanford’s breath catch in his throat when he looked back at her. He froze up, and Addi knew, she just knew that her necklace was showing. In the following moment of silence and stillness, Mabel’s mouth dropped open as she saw it too.

“It’s not-” Addi tried desperately to say, but then her two, well she couldn’t call them friends anymore, heard footsteps thundering towards them from the door behind her.

Things happened very quickly after that.

Mabel tore herself out of Addi’s hand and ran to the exit hatch in one of the viewing walls. Stanford kicked the chair she had vacated into Addi’s knees, making her hiss in pain. With a blast from the man’s gun, Mabel shot the emergency hatch off, and then they were gone.

“Damn it!” Adeline shouted in mingled anger and despair. The two resistance members she had notified to escort them to their base in this dimension hurried into the room.

“Why were you running? There was no rush!”

“The driver was getting impatient,” the blue, three-eyed, spiny one said uncertainly.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm down, Addi reached up and removed her necklace.

“Shit,” she whispered, gazing down at the little golden triangle.

“They freaked, huh?” asked Kot, a green, tentacled, octopus-like person. Their words were filled with sympathy.

“Yeah,” Addi tried to keep her voice from cracking.

⃝

Three days and two dimensions later, Mabel’s cough was only getting worse. She felt unsteady on her feet, and her temperature was stubbornly increasing. She’d also noticed Ford starting to cough.

They could not afford to be sick.

They were both interdimensional outlaws – Mabel by association, Ford by intent – and any wrong move could draw attention to themselves. A one-eyed, yellow, demonic kind of attention. Their encounter with Addi had given them no choice but to keep moving.

“How far away’s the next portal?” she murmured. On the other side of the fire pit in the desert floor, Ford looked up from his calculations.

“Not far.” He said. “It will open in a few hours.”

Mabel nodded and shivered. She was too tired to speak. She was cold, even though she was wrapped in all the blankets they had. Even though she was next to a fire. Even though they were in a desert.

This sucks, she thought miserably. Hey, never had an alien virus though! This didn’t cheer her up as much as it had two days ago.

Ford’s smothered cough almost escaped her notice as the crackling of the fire. A pang of guilt went through her and she sniffled. Worry painted all over his face, her uncle came and sat next to her, rubbing her back.

“S’ry,” Mabel said.

“No, I shouldn’t have let us stay in that alley,”

“Meant for bein’ a hassle,”

“You’re not. You never are,”

Mabel was pretty sure that was a lie. Ford was always counting their rations to make sure there was enough for two. He was more focused on earning money so they could stay in actual dwelling places whenever possible. He always kept a secure grip on her hand when they walked into civilisation, and had gone out of his way to get her proper travelling clothes. Most regularly though, he took the time to teach her about the calculations he used, the most common social customs he’d found, and how to operate what technology they had. To her, it was obvious how much of his attention she took up. It was nice of him to lie though.

Mustering up some last dregs of energy, Mabel asked what had been weighing on her mind.

“Do you really think Addi was working for Bill? I mean, the necklace didn’t have an eye. It was just a triangle,”

“I don’t know,” Ford said tiredly. It must have been the millionth time she had asked that question.

“I really liked her,” Mabel said sadly.

“I know. I’m sorry,”

After a moment Ford drew the blankets around her tighter. “Get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

He’d said that every night since she’d gotten a fever. She never did, but thankfully it was always easy to fall asleep. Waking up was the difficult part.

⃝

Ford woke up to the click of a weapon two sand dunes over. Quietly and quickly, he shook Mabel awake and checked that the smouldering coals of the fire were not bright enough to give away their position. Then he stuffed all their possessions into their bag, leaving one blanket around the girl. They were ready to move in under a minute.

When he took Mabel’s hand she was shaking. Not only her fingers, but her legs were trembling as if they were unused to the strain of lifting her, and her shoulders were heaving with the effort of suppressing violent coughs. Feeling his mouth go dry, he looked into her eyes. Their brown usually full of life, it was shocking to see how exhausted they were now. She seemed only half aware of what was going on.

Enough was enough. Once they were through the portal he was getting her to a hospital.

They made it across three sand dunes before their pursuers caught sight of them. Breaking into a run, Mabel was forced to stumble forwards with him as best she could. Unable to hold it in anymore, she dissolved into a full-blown coughing fit.

When the blue disc of the portal burst into brilliance ahead of them, the pursuers started shouting. A variety of languages met Ford’s ears, those that he understood phrasing questions.

“Stop! Who are you?”

“What are you doing here? Who sent you?”

“This is a warning shot!”

The sand next to them exploded, red lasers leaving afterimages across the dark sky. Ford instinctively threw himself in the opposite direction, cannoning into Mabel. Then he was on his feet and drawing his own gun, only to have it magnetically ripped out of his hands.

“Do not move,”

Ford reached out to push Mabel behind him, but the only resistance his hand met came from air. Ready to dive at the nearest assailant if they had so much as singed his niece, his head snapped around to see her on her hands and knees coughing so hard into the sand it sounded painful. He started towards her but another warning shot flew between them. He froze.

For a few seconds, all Ford could hear was the pulse pounding in his head and the agonised gasps for breath coming from his niece. Then the two pursuers began their interrogation.

“Tell us why you are here!”

“You were armed. That does not suggest a benign intention,”

“Are you affiliated with Wikert Expansion Enterprises?”

Mabel tried to say something, but all that came out was a croak, quickly overtaken by more coughs.

“We’re just travellers, we’re only passing through-” Ford tried.

“Travellers do not live like criminals,”

“What is wrong with the child?”

“I don’t know,” Ford said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Mabel was trying to get their attention. She waved an arm out ahead of her in lieu of words, or so Ford initially thought. Her coughs were coming harder and faster than ever, leaving her with barely enough time to breathe. Her condition was rapidly worsening. Could she be hallucinating? Was that why she was waving like that? Various thoughts presented themselves to him with lightning speed, but no solutions were among them.

With a huge rattling breath, Mabel gave one last cough. There was a muted splat as something dribbled out of her mouth and hit the sand. Ford’s heart seemed to stop as the portal gave one last flare before it disappeared, showing him clearly the red blood his little girl had choked out.

She shakily wiped her mouth and stood up, swaying. Then she made the hand signal she had been previously struggling to: a wrist rotation, followed by splayed fingers. After a very still moment, the two others echoed it.

Right then, the words “Come with us. We can help,” were the only ones necessary to convince Ford to trust them.

⃝

The structure was a monumental block in the middle of the desert. It was as big as a town, and twenty stories tall. Ford was not sure how they had missed it when they had arrived.

Another cough brought his attention back to Mabel. The following sob caused his throat to close up. More on edge than he had been in years, he hurried them both through one of the entrances, their two guides signalling the guards to let them in.

There were only a few people in this section, all wearing a black symbol on their clothes identifying them as medics. A small wave of relief flowed over him, and he looked down at Mabel as –

- as her eyes rolled back into her head and her legs finally buckled. Catching her before she hit the ground, Ford barely registered the panicked shout that left him, inducing the medical personnel to all hurry towards the commotion.

Ford swiftly checked Mabel’s breathing and heart-rate, neither of which were good. Her skin was clammy when he had been sure it was feverish only earlier that day. She was twitching slightly, but not seizing, which was indicative of –

A green, tentacled being started to pull his niece out of his arms. Instinctively, he jerked back, attempting to tighten his hold on her, but the stranger was already rushing away with the girl. Another swell of panic caused him to lash out, to try to stop them from moving out of his sight, even though he was dimly aware that it’s okay, they’re a doctor, they know what they’re doing. The hands of the guides closed around him for restraint, which only made him struggle harder. There was shouting, a call for help, an unintelligible reply, and a sharp prick in his right arm.

Fuck, was his last thought before he slipped into unconsciousness. Again.  

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Fan Novel (Book 2, Chapter 4)

The Watchers surround those of us who have just emerged from the burning temple, grabbing us to bind our hands in front of us, and shove us into the huddle with the rest of the group.

“Alodia!” Jake struggles to my side. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. You?”

“Not hurt.” He takes my bound hands in his and presses his forehead to mine. “...Not liking how this is turning out, though.”

“...Me neither,” I confess. I glance over at Quinn. She still looks far too pale, but she's standing under her own power. “...Is Quinn okay, do you know?”

“Not sure. She can breathe better anyway. Let's just hope they let Michelle look after her wherever they're taking us.”

The Watchers escort us back to their village, to a vast chamber within the massive central tree. A large crowd of blue and green bodies is gathered inside. Golden eyes watch us from behind gleaming masks. None of them speak.

“Silent treatment, huh?” Jake murmurs. “I guess I can handle that.”

A throne of woven roots sits on a dias at one end of the chamber, watched over by massive faces carved into the wall like the Presidents at Mount Rushmore. An elderly female watcher sits on a throne, dressed in a flowing white robe, with a sheer veil like lace covering her face. Auburn hair falls past her waist, decorated with blue flowers.

As the tall Watcher enters the hall beside Diego, his jaw drops.

“What is this?” Diego asks. “What's happening?”

“...The Tribunal has assembled to judge your fate,” he murmurs. “Three will speak for our tribe, and three for your group.”

“Bring them forward!” the Watcher on the throne commands.

Aleister, Lila, and I are freed of our restraints and pushed towards the throne.

“Get your hands off her!” Jake snarls.

“Allie!”

“Hey, wait!” Craig yelps. “I'm goin' up there, too!”

The others strain towards us, but they're forcibly held back by a contingent of Watcher guards.

“Good luck, Alodia!” Quinn calls.

“Yeah, apparently we're all counting on you guys,” Zahra says. “No pressure or anything...”

The shaman hobbles forward, stopping in front of me.

“Crystallized destiny, idol of hope,” he chants in a low, resonant voice, bringing a hand to my forehead. I hold my breath and screw my eyes shut, bracing myself for whatever his touch brings. “Crystallized destiny, idol--”

In the distance, the sound of thunder cracks like a whip, and my eyes fly open. The shaman's eyes go wide. His hand trembles as he lowers it from my face. The shaman turns to the other Watchers.

“It is a proven truth! They are the Twelve Catalysts of legend!” A scatter of astonished murmurs rises from the crowd. I set my jaw, drawing myself up to my full height...which is admittedly rather unimpressive, but I hope I'm selling it.

“Correct!” I say. “Now kneel and offer us tribute!”

“Yeah!” Jake chimes in. “How about showing us a little respect?”

But my demand is met with blank stares. The shaman chuckles, the polite laughter of someone who has just heard a cringeworthy joke, but who doesn't want to hurt the teller's feelings.

“We respect your power, Catalyst, but we do not give worship. Does the apple admire the beast who comes along to devour it?” He chuckles again, more amused by his own joke.

“Hilarious,” Aleister mutters. “Release us immediately!”

“What is going on here?” I demand. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Of course,” the shaman says. “Forgive me. I am called Uqzhaal. Perhaps one of our oldest legends might shed a little light on your understanding. Long ago, our tribe was visited by one who moves unhindered among the branches of the Great Tree of Time. The Endless, as we call this one, foretold of twelve individuals whose arrival would herald Raan'losti, the unmaking of the world. Inspired by the visions of those who would come, our ancestors crafted the twelve idols of flawless amber. These vaalta pleased the Endless, and for many tranquil years they were kept in a temple deep in the forest.

“But peace is inevitably followed by strife. Conflict among our people saw the idols stolen and scattered across the island. The Endless consoled us, announcing that when the vaalta are finally reunited, the power to protect the island will be within reach. Clearly, you are the Twelve Catalysts, and Raan'losti is upon us!”

“...And...that's a good thing?” I ask hopefully.

“Some would say no. But I believe it is, for there is time yet to stop it.”

The Watcher on the throne speaks up. “If this is true, Uqzhaal, then we must proceed carefully.”

“...Since when can all of you speak English?”

She smiles placidly at me. “We learn quickly, young one. Catalysts, I am Ximaedra, Elyyshar of the Vaanti. I would know your purpose on this island.”

Our purpose? I think bitterly. We just thought we were coming for a good time. A vacation. And yet, I already know we're long past that. That was never what we were really brought here for.

“...I...I think our purpose is to help save the world,” I say slowly.

“Of course we'll help!” Lila agrees. “This is a can-do group, and one of the best I've ever had.”

Ximeadra turns her golden eyes on Lila. “Uqzhaal, who is this? She wears the mark of the Hydra.”

Lila blinks. “You...you mean the logo on my shirt?”

“Unexpected indeed,” Uqzhaal agrees. “The Endless said nothing of another alongside the Twelve.”

“So the Endless was wrong.” A Vaanti woman in armor of leaves, leather, and bone, with the muscular body of a warrior and a battle-scarred face to match scowls down at us. “Perhaps about other matters as well.”

“War Chief Seraxa,” Ximaedra says, turning to the woman beside her. “What say you of the Catalysts?”

“The Twelve have brought great upheaval with them, yes. Not only did they reject their sacred journey, they've waged war upon our people at every opportunity! If we do not stop them here and now, Raan'losti will be our doom!” She pulls out a ceremonial knife, its obsidian blade glistening in the firelight. “As war chief of Elyys'tel, I declare the Catalysts blood enemies of the Vaanti!”

The crowd erupts into a chorus of piercing war cries. As the din crescendos, Seraxa cuts a gash in her arm and raises the bloodied knife above her head with wordless battle cry.

“Madness!” Uqzhaal protests.

“Such unnecessary theatrics,” Aleister mutters beside me.

“On what grounds do you invoke this?” Ximaedra demands.

“They violently resisted Prince Varyyn's escort! They attacked the Shore Guardian and irresponsibly manipulated the crystals of Vaanu! Now they've burned the Valley of Tombs! Not to mention endangered the life of our dear Keeper of the Old Faith.” She sneers at Uqzhaal, but the old shaman shakes his head dismissively.

“Shore Guardian?” Lila murmurs. “I don't remember any guardian...”

“She speaks of the great crab,” Uqzhaal explains. “One of the four mighty beasts who guard the island.”

“For generations, we've known the appearance of the Catalysts signaled great destruction. Now we know they are the destruction!” Seraxa shouts. “We have also been taught what we must do to save the island. The time has come. The Twelve must die.”

She lowers the knife, glaring unblinkingly at us. Ximeadra nods solemnly.

“...I see. Putting our faith in the Catalysts is clearly a great risk. But you would have us extinguish that risk and face Raan'losti on our own.” Her eyes find the tall Vaanti, standing amid the crowd. “And what do you think, Varyyn my son? Would you have us aid the Catalysts or sentence them to death?”

The tall Vaanti—Varyyn--looks up sharply, then quickly looks away. “I...It...is not my place to speak before the tribunal.”

...Varyyn. I think I always knew that was his name. From the moment he touched me on the beach, letting me into his mind and gaining access to mine. An idea occurs to me. I close my eyes, seeking out his presence in my mind. I breathe deeply, blocking out everything except Varyyn.

I find myself atop a looming cliff, overlooking the Vaanti village.

“Varyyn,” Ximeadra says gently in Vaanti. “Come. We are going to be late.”

Varynn turns to his mother, alarm in his eyes. “Mother, you should be resting! You've been ill for days!”

“The village depends on me, my son. When Elyys'tel's troubles rest, so shall I.”

“That is what Grandfather said before he died...” His expression turns to anger. “Our people just stood and watched as he gave his life!”

“Varyyn...”

“Leave me be, Mother.” He turns away sharply. Ximeadra sighs and departs, leaving him alone on the cliffside. Suddenly, Varyyn seems to notice my presence. He turns sharply. “You! What are you doing in my head, mind-talker?”

“I didn't mean to intrude. But I need to ask for your help.”

He is quiet for a moment, perhaps taking the time to let the memory I am intruding on catch up with the present. “...With the Tribunal?”

“Yes. I know we've had our differences, but do you think you could speak on our behalf?”

“...Only my mother's advisors speak at court. And others who seek to manipulate her.”

“She seems interested in your opinion. ...Are you really gonna stand by while they sentence us to death? Sentence Diego?”

That makes him stop. He swallows. “I...very well. If the judgment does not go in your favor, I will do as you ask.”

I open my eyes again in the audience hall. I meet Varyyn's eyes in the crowd, and he gives me a subtle nod.

“Uqzhaal,” Ximeadra is saying, “did the Endless not speak of the Catalysts' capacity for salvation and destruction?”

“This is true, my elyyshar.”

“Then we may in fact be enemies after all. That is what we must determine here. Catalysts, do you strive for harmony or change?”

I consider the question carefully, looking around at each of my friends. Although harmony feels like the correct answer, something tells me it isn't right. It would be a lie. And something tells me they would quickly see through a lie.

“...It would seem clear to me that we are agents of change.”

“So you admit it!” Seraxa bellows. “You are here to disrupt the balance of Vaanu!”

“Perhaps your people have resisted change until now, but you have to admit that the island itself is in a constant state of flux.”

“Wisely spoken,” Uqzhaal says approvingly. “Truly, they are the children of the stars in body and spirit both!”

“Claq shen zarvii!” Seraxa snaps. “This means little. Our predetermined duty remains before us.”

Murmurs of dissent pass among the gathered Vaanti. Even with their faces hidden by masks, I can sense their distrust, their doubt, their fear. I sidle over to confer with Lila and Aleister.

“This isn't looking good for us,” Lila murmurs, for once looking truly unhappy.

“What if I just told them this was all a misunderstanding?” I suggest uncertainly. “We didn't know about their values or laws...”

“Or maybe I can vouch for what good kids you are? We can show them we're really not all that bad!”

“They won't care about that,” Aleister says with a snort. “I say we go on the offensive and push their own hypocrisy in their faces.”

I consider for a long moment. Then I sigh. “I think Aleister's right. The fact that we didn't know anything about their values or laws isn't likely to sway them. And call me stupid, but I don't really want to try groveling. I don't think I could pull it off, anyway.” I look at Aleister. “I'll leave it in your hands then. I trust you know what to say?”

His eyes flash. “I absolutely do.”

I nod. “Let 'em have it.”

Aleister saunters to the top of the audience hall's dias, looking every inch his father's son, confident, capable, and powerful.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and what have you...what we have here is a farcical excuse for justice!” He looks condescendingly around at the Vaanti with eyes that judge them and find them wanting. “I haven't seen such a poor appraisal of facts since Craig tried to convince me that Keanu Reeves was a vampire!”

“Have you looked at the dude?” Craig protests. “He hasn't aged a day in twenty years!”

“What foolishness is this?” Seraxa snaps, but she looks a little uncomfortable. “Get to the point!”

“In every encounter, it has been your people who've waged war on us, beginning with a certain 'follow or die' ultimatum on the beach. As for enemies of the island, Alodia and Estela discovered an amber arrowhead in the shell of the giant crab. Apparently, you call this creature the Shore Guardian? Judging by the resinous weaponry around me, it's obvious we weren't the only ones to have defended ourselves against that thing. Like you, we've sought to survive in an environment where all of nature seemed bent on killing us! But alas, it appears civilization is the most dangerous predator.”

With that, he steps off the dias, leaving the crowd utterly silent. Diego catches my eye and grins, miming a mic drop. I smile back.

Ximeadra clears her throat. “Seeking answers for what came before is less urgent than preparing for what will yet be. Given all that I've heard today, I can't help but agree that the Catalysts represent a major threat to the island. Catalysts, if you have anything else to say on your behalf, please do so now. Otherwise, I will be forced to sentence you accordingly.”

“These kids are just trying to get home!” Lila cries. “You can't punish them for that!”

“Such utter tripe!” Aleister snarls. “If this is the extent of your judicial system, your society is doomed with or without us!”

I should be more scared, with the lives of me and my friends in the balance, but I am too exhausted to be scared. I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired of having to be brave. I'm tired of having to be clever against an island that always seems to be one step ahead. I am tired of being a pawn. I have been on this island for six goddamn months, having experienced ten days of that time. Everything of fear or courage or cleverness is being quickly burned out of me. And what's left is boiling, bubbling anger. I wheel on Seraxa.

“The only person who really seems to have a problem with us is the cranky one that looks like a pin cushion!” I snap.

“Mind your tongue!” she barks back. “As war chief I speak in defense of all Vaanti, Catalyst.”

“And you're such a model citizen? You really think you're so typical, you can speak for everyone else?!”

“Seraxa is most unusual,” Uqzhaal confirms mildly. “She lives alone. Has many cats.”

“That is of no importance here!” Seraxa replies indignantly.

“She also cares little for the Old Faith.”

“One wonders how someone who shirks tribal custom is able to invoke it against us,” Aleister remarks.

“Enough! You...question my faithfulness to my people? I fought and bled in the War of the Three Tribes! I was there when Quarr'tel burned!” Many of the Vaanti nod, murmuring in agreement. “The only thing I have no faith in is you! And I will not make the mistake of entrusting our future to oursiders, prophesied or otherwise!”

From somewhere in the crowd, a Vaanti calls out, “Death to the Catalysts!” Other voices rise to join the first, and suddenly the entire room is chanting as one, “Death! Death! Death!”

I look for Varyyn, my eyes pleading with him. He has already stepped forward, shouting to be heard.

“Mother! Members of the Tribunal! I would speak on the Catalysts' behalf!”

“Silence!” Ximeadra barks. “Let my son speak!”

The audience rapidly quiets. All eyes are on Varyyn now.

“The prince has never contributed his voice at court!” Uqzhaal murmurs.

“Varyyn,” Seraxa growls, “you may be the elyyshar's son, but you're also a warrior under my command. Consider your next words very carefully.”

Varyyn swallows. “I...I do not seek to sway the Tribunal's judgment. Instead, I would merely share the truth as I have witnessed it. I've had more dealings with the Twelve than any other who has testified today. While they are worthy opponents, they have also avoided battle whenever possible. On many occasions, I've observed them treating Vaanu and those who dwell here fairly and respectfully. Whether they herald Vaanu's destruction is yet uncertain. What makes it certain is if we deny them our help.”

Ripples of discussion pass through the hall as the Vaanti react to the prince's testimony. Ximeadra is silent, considering the matter carefully. She rises from her throne.

“I have reached a decision regarding the charges against the Twelve Catalysts.” She looks at us. “Catalysts, the threat you pose to the island and our way of life is unquestionable. However, I believe that the fate of the Vaanti may yet depend on you.”

“You...you're letting us go?” Lila asks hopefully.

“No. For our safety and your own, I must order your immediate imprisonment on Sharktooth Isle.”

“Imprisonment?!” I cry.

“It may be of little comfort, but at least you will be safe there while we seek to bring Raan'losti to a peaceful end.”

“You have no right to imprison us!” Aleister cries. “As travelers, our right to safety and agency are protected by international law!”

“...This might be the best we could hope for,” Lila says mournfully.

“Mercy?!” Seraxa snarls incredulously. “Mercy for the agents of our destruction?”

“You question my judgment, Seraxa?” Ximeadra asks calmly.

Seraxa knows the correct answer to that question. “...As you would have it, my elyyshar.”

Uqzhaal sighs. “Ah, natala dril arkharu. Such a grievous day.”

Guards begin to forcibly escort us out of the audience hall, once again placing bonds on me, Lila, and Aleister. Even Diego is bound again. I keep my head down as they lead us out, exhausted and heavy-hearted. A bit of pale blue directly beside me catches my eye.

I look down to see a male Vaanti child with pale, shaggy hair walking directly beside me. If I had to guess his age based on human children, I would put him at seven or eight.

“I'm not afraid of you,” he says. He smiles when he says it, and it sounds more like a reassurance than a challenge. I smile weakly back.

“You're not? Well, that's good to hear...”

He waves after us as we're brought down a winding staircase. I stick out my tongue, rolling it into a hot-dog bun shape. He giggles and sticks his tongue out at me.

“Bye-bye! Come back soon!”

* * *

At the shore, our bonds are cut, and we're loaded into a Vaanti boat large enough for all of us. I sit quietly between Jake and Diego, clutching both their hands. Jake bends to kiss the top of my head. Varyyn and Uqzhaal join us in the boat, and the Vaanti on shore push us off. Everyone is quiet as we drift through the moonlit waters towards a distant inlet. Finally, Sean speaks up.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Sharktooth Isle,” Uqzhaal says solemnly. “It is a place of exile. Those who set foot upon its shores will never return to Vaanu.”

“And so we reap the folly of island justice,” Aleister says bitterly.

“Allie, look at this!”  Diego points to the water where a school of large, dark fish are visible swimming alongside the boat. Varyyn gently reaches out to pull Diego's arm back into the boat. Diego looks at him questioningly.

“They're fish,” Zahra mutters. “It's not like they're gonna get offended.”

“No,” Varyyn says gently. “It's dangerous. Watch.”

He pulls a long feather from his braided topknot and drops it off the side of the boat. In an instant, the fish are upon it, tearing the feather to shreds with razor-sharp teeth.

“Woooah, okay. My hand was almost a supporting cast member in a remake of Piranha 3D... Thanks, Varyyn.”

Varyyn smiles sadly. “Of course.”

“The klaawyi eat anything that crosses these waters,” Uqzhaal explains. “The wood of our boats is coated with a rare sap that they find poisonous, else this vessel would soon be torn apart.”

“Of course there are wood-eating barracudas here,” Jake sighs. “Why wouldn't there be?”

As the shaman turns to gaze out across the sea, I glimpse a strange tattoo on his back. Like a

mountain with a face jutting out of the side.

“What's the story with your back tat?” Zahra asks.

“A symbol of the Old Faith. It would be difficult to explain to you, Catalyst.”

“Does it have to do with the Endless?” I ask. At that, the old shaman's eyes brighten. He begins to recite something in Vaanti, his voice reverent. In my head, I can hear the words translated. I'm not sure if that's through my connection to Varyyn, or if Uqzhaal himself has found a way into my mind.

“Twelve before the door, standing silent guard. At the base of the mountain, the One begins.” He continues in spoken English. “It is the legend of the Threshold, a place I've etched into my skin.”

“The Threshold...is a place? On the slope of the volcano?”

“It is indeed! But it no longer matters. Now that we may never see the prophecies of the Endless fulfilled...”

The shaman abruptly stands and hobbles towards Quinn. She blinks at him, confused.

“...Mm...no, no, not good,” he murmurs. “I sense that a withering has taken root in you. If left untended it may soon claim your life.”

“I don't...I don't know what you're talking about...” Quinn mumbles.

“...I think you do,” Michelle says gently. “The way you collapsed in the rainforest earlier? Something's going on, Quinn.”

Quinn swallows. “...Promise me you guys won't be...shocked...or sad...”

“Is it that bad?” Diego asks worriedly.

“I...have a condition called Rotterdam's Syndrome. It's an autoimmune disease. There's no cure.”

I feel my heart freeze and sink into my belly. A heavy silence hangs over the group.

“...When were you diagnosed?” Michelle asks softly.

“When I was four. My parents tried everything. My dad spent the last of his savings on an experimental treatment, which actually made it go away...until a few weeks ago. ...Just before I left on this trip.” She clutches her left hand in a vain attempt to keep it from trembling. She blinks and a few tears trickle down her cheeks. “...I'm going to die. In the next six months. Maybe sooner.”

“Oh, Quinn...” Michelle draws her into a hug.

I press my lips together, trying for Quinn's sake not to look as shocked or sad as I feel.

“...You won't go through this alone,” I say at last. “Whatever happens, we're going to be here for you. You can count on it.”

She smiles. “...Thank you. I...needed to hear that. I just don't want to burden you with all this...”

Jake shakes his head. “It's a burden we all want. You're one of us, Red. We all got into this together, and we're getting out of it together.”

“We would never turn our backs on you,” Diego adds.

“...Thank you...”

About then, two Vaanti leap into the shallows and guide the boat ashore.

“We have arrived,” Uqzhaal says sorrowfully. “This...is Sharktooth Isle.”

One by one, we climb out of the boat onto the sandy shore.

“This is where you guys put prisoners?” Craig asks incredulously. “It totally looks like--”

“The final level of Dino Melee!” Zahra finishes. “Graphics on ultra.”

“Exac...” Craig catches himself, clearing his throat. “I mean...I was gonna say something else.”

“...I am sorry, Diego,” Varyyn says softly. “I must leave you here.”

“It's not your fault.” Diego shifts awkwardly, looking down at the sand. “Um...your English is getting really good, by the way. Keep working on it.”

“Yes. I promise to do so.”

They lock eyes as Varyyn grips Diego's shoulder in a sad farewell. Uqzhaal leans heavily on his staff and gazes down at us from the boat.

“It has truly been an honor, Catalysts. Perhaps one day, upon another branch of the Great Tree, we'll meet again. Stars guide you.”

The Vaanti guide their ship back into the sea. I come up beside Diego to watch it drift into the distance.

“So...tell me. Are you and Varyyn an item?”

“What? Me and Varyyn?” He blushes. “I mean, he is easy on the eyes, but...please don't tell me you've gotten into Aladdin/Genie fanfiction again. Is that what you've been doing for three days?”

“...All I've been doing for three days is trying to get you back,” I say softly.

“Aw, Allie...” He pulls me into a fierce hug. I cling to him, letting all the tension of the past three days come spilling out of me in a flood of tears. He holds me gently, rubbing my back. “I'm okay, Allie. We're all okay.”

“...I was afraid I'd lost you,” I whisper.

“Yeah, same,” he admits. “I knew you wouldn't forget about me, but...after six months, it was really hard not to be scared that you weren't coming back. ...I was terrified that you'd gotten lost or hurt...or worse...”

“Nothing like that,” Jake says, coming up beside us. “She has been crazy grumpy since you went missing.”

Diego chuckles, but when he pulls back to look me in the eye, his expression is clouded with concern.

“Allie, sweetie, you look exhausted.” He looks around at the rest of the group. “Frankly, you all do.”

I wipe at my eyes. “...I don't think any of us has slept more than a few hours since...God, since before the marina...”

“Which was how long ago for you guys?!” Diego cries.

“Three...no...four days? Maybe five?”

Diego sighs. “...Goddammit, Allie...”

I dissolve into helpless, exhausted giggles. Jake puts his hands on my shoulders to steady me.

“We should probably find a place to set up camp. Get some real rest.”

“Um...how about there?” Grace points to an imposing three-story manor house overlooking the shore. It has clearly been abandoned for some time, and it's walls are covered in vines, but it looks like  sturdy and solid shelter.

“It's beautiful,” Quinn breathes. “Or at least, it was...”

“What exactly is this place?” Michelle wonders.

“Looks like the set of a soap opera,” Diego remarks. “Or maybe Jack Sparrow's hideout.”

“I think it's our new home,” Jake murmurs, his tone unreadable.

We make our way inside. Within thirty minutes, we're gathered in the manor's once-resplendent foyer, the ancient oil lanterns casting a soft, warm light. A small fire burns in a cleared area of the floor in the center of the foyer.

“Is this place for real?” Sean wonders, staring in awe at the intricate designs on the banisters of the ornamental staircases. “Who do you think lived here?”

“This is a jail cell built for a king, bro!” Craig says with a grin.

“It's Rourke who belongs here,” Estela mutters. “Not us.”

Aleister rises abruptly, wandering off to the corner of the room. Grace watches him, concerned.

“He looks really upset...Alodia, do you think we should talk to him?”

“...Maybe...”

We get up and wander over. “Aleister...? Alodia and I...we just wanted to see how you were doing...”

“I can't believe I trusted my father. After everything he's done. He's been playing us since before we even landed on La Huerta.”

“I can't imagine how you must be feeling right now,” I say softly.

In a sudden burst of rage, he picks up an old chair and hurls it against the wall. Grace jumps, squeaking.

“Bastard! The next time I see him, I'll--” He notices Grace trembling, looking at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Grace, I...I didn't mean to...”

“Aleister...this is exactly what your father wants. We're all furious with him.”

“Very,” Grace agrees. “But Alodia's right. Based on his actions so far, he probably wants us emotional and out of control.”

“Astute observation, Grace. I've...we've been pawns in his game for long enough.” Grace reaches over and rubs Aleister's back.

“We're here for you. Always.”

“I can't imagine why. But thank you, Grace.” When Grace clears her throat, he looks at me. “And you, Alodia.”

“No problem. You guys were here for me when I needed you. I'm just happy to return the favor. ...Come on back to the fire now, okay?”

He comes back with us, sitting down beside Grace. Sean sighs.

“All right, crew, we need a new plan. There's gotta be some way off this isle, right? Diego? Did you ever hear any talk about this place?”

“You know, Varyyn once told me about something really unusual on this isle. It's called the Singing Cliffs. He says the Vaanti go there to hear the voice of La Huerta itself.”

“Great,” Jake says. “Maybe it'll have some ideas on how to outswim a straight full of bloodthirsty fish.”

“You never know,” Diego replies. “The Vaanti believe that the island speaks a unique message to each individual who visits the area.”

“If the cliffs are half as pretty as their name, I'm in,” Quinn says. “Maybe it'll even inspire me to do some painting.”

“I could come with you,” I offer. “If you'd like some company.”

“I would love to have you along, Alodia.”

“If I remember correctly, it's supposed to be just south of here through the trees.”

“Stay within shouting distance, you two,” Sean warns. “We don't know what else is on this isle...”

* * *

Quinn and I make our way southward through a forested region of the isle.

“This is exciting,” Quinn says brightly. “For all of the dangers we've faced on La Huerta, there are just as many amazing sights to see...”

“You manage to find a bright side in almost anything. Do you feel more inspired to paint?”

“Absolutely. To be honest, even though I love painting, I have been able to in awhile. It's been hard to get my mind off everything. ...I came here hoping the island's beauty would shake me out of  this slump.”

“...Did it?”

“No...but you did.”

“You flirt,” I say with a grin. Then my smile slips. “...I know it must have been hard, telling everyone about your illness...”

“Actually, I'm really glad I did. It's like I finally put down this great big burden I've been dragging around since we got here. I...didn't mean to be so secretive. I just knew that as soon as I told anyone, my illness would define me. But you've shown me different, Alodia. You taught me that no one thing could ever define me.”

I open my mouth to respond, but then an ethereal melody reaches my ears, carried on the wind.

...Ennnnnnnnnnnnn...

Quinn gasps. “Alodia! Do you hear that? I think it's coming from this way!”

She grabs my hand and pulls me along the path. Ahead, the trees finally give way to a stunning expanse of beach. Wind races ashore from the sea, creating harmonic tones as it passes through hollows in the eroded cliff face.

...Leeeeeeeeee...

“It really is like voices singing,” Quinn murmurs.

As the winds drone on, I try to make out specific words.

Ennnnnnnnnnnnnn...leeeeeeeeee...

“It's pretty, but I don't know if it's actually saying anything,” Quinn murmurs.

I don't answer. I close my eyes and let the winds speak to me.

Across the seeeeeeeeeeaaa....iiiiit comes....Crruuuuuuushing everything....in its path.....to youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu....

I gasp, my eyes flying open. “Well that's...eerie...”

“What did it say to you?”

“Something's coming across the sea to reach me. Something dangerous.”

“I think I heard the words, 'our destined union'.”

“I guess we'll have to wait to find out what it means.”

The bright moonlight shines into a cave in the cliff face. We make our way across the beach toward it.

“Oh, look!” Quinn kneels next to a cluster of tide pools beside the cave mouth. Each one contains a different color of wet, glistening clay. She carefully dabs her finger into a pool and proceeds to paint an orange streak across a flat section of rock. “These make pretty decent paints.”

“I guessed it worked well enough for cavemen.”

“Would you like me to paint something for you?”

“How about painting this beautiful seaside view?”

“Ohh, yes...Maybe looking out across the sea with the moonlight on the water.”

“It could be your own 'Starry Night'.”

“I don't know about that, but I'll give it a shot.”

“Just don't cut off your ear.”

Quinn giggles. Dipping her fingers in the clay, she creates several lines on the rock face,

“What subjects do you usually paint?”

“All kinds of things. People, animals...Sometimes I just start putting paint on the canvas and let it take me somewhere.”

“You mean you start to envision a place?”

“Not always an actual place. Sometimes I end up painting...an emotional place. I think there are things you can say with a painting that can't otherwise be expressed. You can show someone how something really feels.”

“I hadn't thought of it that way, before.”

Quinn steps back from the rock wall, and I step up to observe her work. I gasp a little. The sea has been painted in soft, cloudy colors on the rock wall. Staring at it, I feel a lump rising in my throat.

“Wow...you're really good...”

“Really? You like it?”

“It seems kind of...sad...forlorn...”

“You can see that?”

“The sea is relinquishing its hold on the shore. It feels...final.”

“Nothing lasts forever, right?” she says softly. I look over at her. The moonlight catches in her copper hair and reflects off her porcelean skin. I impulsively pull her into my arms, cradling her head against my shoulder. She holds me back.

“...I like being in your arms,” she murmurs.

“...I like having you here,” I reply. ...And I do. More than I like the idea of being naked in bed with her. A part of me still wants to kiss her, to fondle her breasts and the softness between her legs...but it seems that if given the choice between holding her and doing more, I would sooner choose just to hold her. To feel the way she fits in my arms, to stroke her soft red hair. I pull back, suddenly realizing how warm she feels in my arms.

“...Quinn?”

She turns a flushed face upward towards me. “Hmm...?”

I put a hand to her forehead. “...You feel warm...”

She sighs. “...Yes...Rotterdam's causes fevers...”

“We should get you back to the manor. We could both use a good night's sleep.”

“I suppose you're right...”

By the time we reach the manor, Quinn is leaning heavily on me, breathing hard. Sweat runs down her face in rivers. Michelle and Sean immediately leap up to take her from me, easing her into a spot near the fire and covering her with whatever they can find to keep her warm. I start to go with them, but then I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to see Jake.

“...They've got her, Princess. Come get some rest. I've claimed a nice soft spot for us.”

I hesitate a moment, then I nod. Jake leads me into a corner and curls up with me. I lay my head on his chest. “...I'm scared, Jake,” I confess. “...I don't want her to die...”

“Neither do I,” he says softly. “...To be honest, I don't think I can accept it yet. ...This island is so crazy, why couldn't we find something to cure her here?”

“I hope you're right...”

He sighs and kisses the top of my head. “...But ain't nothing gonna get done if we're all too exhausted. You know, you're turning into quite the mama bear when it comes to this ragtag bunch of misfits.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah. You're the mama grizzly, and we're all your cubs. Just be careful, or you'll develop a bigger hero complex than Sean.”

I snort. Somehow, it turns into a yawn. “...Don't you worry about that...I...I'm gonna...”

“...Sleep?”

“Yeah...”

I close my eyes, and I am asleep within moments. I awake in the early daylight hours. Everyone around me seems to still be asleep. As I sit up, Jake grunts beside me, rolling over. I stand, careful not to wake him, and stretch experimentally. I wince. My head feels clearer after the night's rest, but my body is still aching. I need to have a proper stretch.

I wander out of the manor, exploring the grounds, and come across a felled tree. After warming myself up, I mount it like a beam. I take a deep breath, and move slow-motion through my favorite routine.

The log isn't high enough for me to safely do a real dismount, but I let myself back-walkover off it. That's when I realize I have an audience.

“You know when I first noticed you,” Sean says, “you were doing something pretty similar on the bleachers by the football field.”

“...I remember you mentioned that once.” I blot bit of sweat off my brow with the sleeve of the camo gear I'm still wearing. Though the Vaanti took the three idols, they did allow me to keep the rest of my belongings. But I only brought a couple changes of clothing. “How did you sleep?”

“All things considered, okay. I guess at some point, exhaustion just gets louder than your racing thoughts.”

“Got a lot on your mind?”

“...Too much.” He sighs. “Things have gotten steadily worse since we arrived. I hate feeling so helpless. A part of me just feels like I should be able to do something...and if don't it's because I failed.”

“You've been nothing but a source of strength for us all, Sean.”

“Well...not nothing...”

“Okay, so you got off track a little once. It doesn't change the fact that this nightmare is not your fault.”

He smiles wearily. “...Thanks. ...How are you holding up?”

“Now that I've got Diego back, I'm much better. ...I'm scared about Quinn, though.”

“We all are. ...That's one thing that really makes me feel helpless...”

“Yeah. Something none of us have the knowledge or skillset to really fight...the idea that all we can do is sit beside her and watch her die...” I shiver. “...I'm glad she trusted us enough to tell us, though.”

“...Trust is a very fragile thing...” he murmurs. He goes quiet for a long time, staring into the jungle.

“...You okay there?”

“...Just...thinking about trust.”

“In what way?” When he hesitates, I press him. “You can tell me.”

“...I once trusted someone I cared deeply for...”

I swallow. I have a feeling I know who he's talking about. “...I take it that didn't end well...”

“I was the last to know,” he says softly. “We'd been together for two years, and somehow everyone except me knew that she'd started seeing someone else. ...Her closest friends finally told me out of pity. When I confronted her, true to form, she made it a huge production. ...And then it was over.”

I can't bear it any longer. “Sean, if this is about Michelle, there's something you should know.”

He shakes his head. “I don't want to talk about her anymore. I don't know why I'm even thinking about her...”

“...Because she's trapped here with us?” I sigh, giving up. Maybe it isn't my secret to tell anyway. “...Whatever happened, I know you'd never do that to someone. You're probably the most caring person I know.”

“I appreciate that.” He pauses. “...I do trust you, Alodia.”

“...I trust you, too, Sean.”

“Alodia! Sean!” Lila comes jogging up to us, looking a bit frantic. “Come quick! I think Raj is about to do something foolish!”

Exchanging a glance with Sean, I hurry after Lila. Several of the others are also drawn out by the commotion. We run down to the beach to find Raj dangling precariously from the prow of an old shipwreck.

“Raj!” I yelp. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I see a barrel in the ship's hold! It's gotta be Caribbean rum!”

“Please come down!” Lila pleads. “You're going to get hurt!”

Sean and I move to the water's edge near the ship. Raj tries to swing closer to the deck. The desiccated wood of the prow groans in protest.

“There's something else...I see something else!”

“What is it?”

“I think it's one of those idol things! Alodia, if I come down and boost you up, do you think you could reach into the window of the ship?”

“...All right, let's give it a shot...”

“Sweet!”

Sean helps Raj down from the prow. Raj wanders ankle-deep into the water beside the hull of the ship and hoists my small form onto his shoulders. I wobble as his shoulders shift under me.

“Eaaasy...”

“Sorry! I'm ticklish!” He struggles not to laugh without much success. A swarm of dark shapes writhe in the deeper water, way too close to Raj's feet for my comfort.

“Oh, god! Please try to keep still!”

“I'm...trying...!”

I grasp the frame of the window in the ship's hull. Poking my head into the window, I can see the amber idol of a rearing centaur with a bow and arrow just inside. I reach for it.

“Got it!”

“Sweet! Let's get out of here!”

“No need to tell me twice!”

I dismount off his shoulders, landing gracefully on the shore. Raj splashes out of the water, and I turn to hand him the idol. His fingers brush the crystalline surface...

… There's a party raging at a frat house on Hartfeld campus. Party lights pulse in time with the pounding dance music. Hartfeld students, exhausted after a week of classes and activities and heady with cheap beer, bump and grind with abandon. The front door opens and Raj comes barreling through.

“Guess who's off academic probaaaaaation!” he sings.

“That's my dude!” Craig cheers, coming to give him a high-five.

“Way to go!” Michelle says with a grin.

Sean claps him on the back. “Nice! Congrats, man! I knew you'd win the case.”

“Time for a celebratory keg stand!” Raj vaults onto a nearby keg and inverts himself. The whole party chants as Raj guzzles beer. He gets up and raises his fists in triumph. “I'm back dudes!”

“So what ended up happening at the hearing?” Sean asks.

“Professor McCarty dropped the charges. He couldn't prove I cheated.”

Craig raises his hand for another high-five.

“Good job,” Michelle says. “Seriously, I hate Professor McCarty. Screw him. ...How did you cheat without him catching you, anyway?”

“What are you talking about? I didn't cheat...”

“Dude, it's cool. They can't get you now. Double jeopardy.”

“...Not sure that applies to college ethics proceedings...Seriously though, I didn't cheat.”

“You, Raj Bhandarkar, the guy who accidentally burned down Pi Omega...”

“...The guy who made a goat tackle Camden State's quarterback in a live game...”

“...The guy who jumped off the library roof into the Meyer fountain...”

“...You got 100% on the econ final, where the next highest score was a 73%?” Michelle finishes.

“Well...yeah!” Raj insists.

There is a moment of silence. Then everyone bursts out laughing.

“Dude, you are hilarious!” Sean cries.

“I love you, Raj,” Michelle says. “Kinda pissed that you blew the curve, but I still love you.”

“You play it close to the vest,” Craig says. “I feel ya. One day, I'm gonna find out how you did it, though.”

“Heh...yeah...” Raj mumbles. Then he forces a bright smile. “Who wants to see me do another keg stand?!”

The crowd roars in approval, and then everything folds inward on itself as time rockets me forward.

… I'm in the kitchen of The Celestial. Raj stands behind the counter, slicing vegetables and dropping them into a pot of simmering water. He swallows hard, wiping tears from his eyes that might not have anything to do with the onions.

“Pies...make peace...” he mutters to himself, drawing in a shuddering breath.

Rourke saunters into the kitchen. There's something noticeably off about him. ...Perhaps it is the fact that he's totally naked.

“Splendid lunch, Raj. Truly outdid yourself.” He picks his teeth with the jagged edge of a broken femur bone. “Who knew grilled sabertooth could be so incredibly savory?”

“This kinda stuff wasn't in the job description, dude,” Raj mumbles. “And you might wanna lay off the time crystals. They're turning you into a full-on Dr. Moreau head case.”

“Nonsense. Each time I get just a little bit closer to the one I seek.”

“You're never gonna find that red spacesuit person.”

Rourke snarls, but his attention is suddenly drawn to a small drone hovering into the room. “Ahh, Iris! Have you brought the special ingredient for this evening's dinner?”

“As you requested, Mr. Rourke.” A cable attached to the drone tows a wheeled cart to the center of the kitchen.

“Very good. Let's show our head chef what he'll be preparing!”

Rourke reaches for a box on the cart, carefully prying open the lid. Inside, Murphy whimpers, quaking with fear. Raj reaches back to untie his apron and whips it off.

“No! You've pushed me too far this time!”

“Oh come now. It's just one teeny, tiny, freezy, sneezy fox.”

“Murphy is my friend! You don't eat friends!” Rourke sighs irritably and turns away, but Raj isn't finished. “Besides, I've prepared something else for you tonight...”

“Oh?”

Raj twists the apron in his hands and wields it like a whip, striking a hanging rack. The rack swings free of one of its supports, and a pile of pans and heavy cookware suddenly tumbles onto Rourke. He cries out.

“Murphy, come on!”

Raj and Murphy race out of the kitchen. Whatever consciousness I have follows them outside, where alarms are blaring across the courtyard.

“Hurry! He's coming!”

Rourke, battered and bruised, shambles after them, hefting a harpoon gun.

“I have had enough of your insubordination, Head Chef Raj!” He gains on them, aiming his weapon. Murphy scampers ahead, then stops and looks back for Raj, whining.

“Just go! Run, little guy!” There is a loud blast as Rourke fires the harpoon gun. “Run for your li--” …

I suck in a sharp breath as I find myself back in my own body on Sharktooth Isle. Raj passes the idol back to me.

“Why don't you hold onto this for now, Alodia? I'm gonna go get lunch started! Hope you're hungry!”

I blink at him. For a moment, I have an almost overwhelming urge to stop him. But I just smile weakly. “Yeah...I am pretty hungry...”

I turn to head back to the manor with the others.

“Uh, guys?” Diego says suddenly. “Someone's coming!”

I turn to look, shading my eyes against the glaring sunlight. I can just make out a small Vaanti sailboat racing over the water towards us.

“The Vaanti are coming back!” Michelle exclaims.

“What are they gonna do to us now?” Grace wonders fearfully.

“Uh...I don't think that's the Vaanti...” Craig says slowly.

As the ship races closer, I see he's right. A woman—a human woman—with ruddy skin grasps the mast of the sailboat. She wears old-fashioned breeches, knee-high leather boots, and a leather bodice over a billowy linen shirt. A bandolier over her chest holds a knife, and a wheellock pistol hangs at her waist. Under an elegant tricorn hat, a shoulder-length mane of dark hair dances in the breeze.

“...Someone want to explain why a woman who looks like Jack Sparrow's girlfriend is heading this way?” Diego asks.

As the outrigger skids up onto the shore, the pirate woman leaps off, landing gracefully on the sand. She looks us over, dark eyes glittering.

“It would appear the captain has sent out a welcoming party. Tres, tres gentil,” she says in a thick accent. In one swift motion, she pulls out her pistol and aims it at me. “Take me to Malatesta!”